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MILITARY SERVICE

AND

ADVENTURES IN THE FAR EAST:

INCLUDING

SKETCHES OF THE CAMPAIGNS

AGAINST THE AFGHANS IN 1839,

AND THE SIKHS IN 1845-6.

BY A CAVALRY OFFICER.

IN TWO VOLUMES.

VOL. II.

LONDON:

CHARLES OLLIER,

SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND.

1847.

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

MILITARY SERVICE

IN THE FAR EAST.

[CHAPTER I.]

THE COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF RETURNS TO ENGLAND—DISASTROUS INSURRECTION THROUGHOUT AFGHANISTAN—JELLALABAD HOLDS OUT, AND GENERAL POLLOCK ADVANCES UPON CAUBUL.

After the breaking up of the army of the Indus, Sir John Keane proceeded down the Indus, and shortly afterwards embarked for England, where those honours, titles, and pecuniary rewards awaited him, which would have entitled him to the appellation of one of the most fortunate soldiers who ever acquired laurels in India—had he survived long to enjoy the distinction.

Fortunate, indeed, may Sir John Keane be termed, in having brought to an apparently successful conclusion a campaign which was founded in error and injustice, and placed in the hands of the commander-in-chief with the fullest assurance of the directing arm of Providence leading the small band through a country of which the little that was known should have induced a supposition that an army provided with an insufficient amount of supplies must meet with enormous difficulties. By some unaccountable fatality, the Afghans neglected the advantages thus afforded them, and thereby induced a supposition that the warlike spirit of the tribes who had overrun and conquered Hindostan had departed for ever; and that a handful of British soldiers would be sufficient to maintain possession of a country inhabited by a nation whose hands were fitted at their birth to the cimeter, and whose eyes, when capable of distinguishing objects with accuracy, were directed along the barrel of a rifle.

Trusting, doubtless, in the resources of their monarch to repel the British invasion, no coalition was formed amongst the mountain tribes; but when the abhorred Feringhee had seized their king and established himself in the land of their fathers, and when, moreover, they beheld him, lulled into security, break up his forces and march the greater portion of his army homewards through the jaws of the tremendous portals of Afghanistan, the lighted torch flew with resolute speed from the valley of Quetta to the mountains of Kohistan. The Ghilzie, whose heel had been bruised, but whose arm was not unnerved, roused his brethren to vengeance, and the eloquence of Akbar, pleading for the diadem which had been snatched from his ambitious hopes, found a responsive echo in the heart of every true Barukzye.

A tribe of insolent plunderers had established themselves in the Khoord Caubul, and had the audacity to interfere with the letter-carriers. The gallant Sale, with his brigade, hastened to brush these intruders from the surface of the mountains, but the band of robbers had swollen to an army; and though, by desperate valour and unwearied exertion, a passage was forced through every obstacle, yet the passes closed upon the isolated brigade, and the communication with the ill-fated garrison of Caubul was cut off for ever.

Red with the slaughter of their enemies, and faint from their own wounds, the wearied band of soldiers, under Sale, threw themselves into Jellalabad. Then burst the startling intelligence over the plains of India that an insurrection had broken out amongst the far-distant mountains of Afghanistan, and that our fellow-soldiers were ill provided with sustenance, short of ammunition, and enveloped amongst countless swarms of enemies. I will not enter minutely on the details of that insurrection, which shook the fabric of our Eastern power to its centre, brought unmerited obloquy on the British name, and entailed the most harrowing series of disasters on the hapless army in Afghanistan that England's history can record in her military annals.

The task of recapitulating the succession of horrors which took place in Caubul has been undertaken by eye-witnesses and sufferers from the small remnant of the Caubul garrison who escaped.

Amongst that catalogue of miseries and massacre we have the consolatory reflection that the Afghans found no grounds to assert that the British, though worn with toil, and pierced by incessant cold, derogated in aught from their national fame. From the first struggle on leaving the entrenched camp at Caubul, unto the final catastrophe at Gundamuk, the Afghans were cautious of meeting our fellow-countrymen at close quarters. When they tried the experiment, led by the alluring satisfaction of revelling in Feringhee gore, they found that, although heart-broken and disorganized, the Briton was ever ready to die facing his enemy. Peace to the manes of those maligned and hapless warriors, whose bones are bleaching on every height and valley of that rugged desolation (fit scene for such a catastrophe) which disfigures the face of the country, from the gates of the Bala Hissar to the walls of Jellalabad! And, peace to the ashes of the worthy and amiable Elphinstone! It rested not with him that, suffering under bodily weakness and worn by mental anxieties in his arduous command, he should have lived to end his honourable days in an enemy's camp. The soldier has no choice but to obey the authority which places him in command, and those authorities are answerable to their countrymen for the selection.

But the British power fell not with her general and his army. Kandahar was held with security in the iron grasp of Nott.[1] The little garrison of Khelat-i-Ghilzie held resolutely their post against the repeated and determined attacks of their blood-thirsty foe; and the haughty Akbar, with the bravest of his mountain tribes, was checked in his murderous career under the walls of Jellalabad. The "illustrious garrison" maintained their isolated post against cold, starvation, the overwhelming mass of vaunting Afghans, and against the convulsions of nature when an earthquake cast down their fortifications and left no artificial barrier, beyond their weapons, between the hordes of Afghanistan and Sale's devoted band.

Vain were the efforts made by the Native Infantry Brigade, from Peshawur, to force the passage of the Khyber, for the spirit of those savage mountaineers was roused; every hill was watched with untiring vigilance, and the two regiments which penetrated to Ali Musjid had little cause to congratulate themselves on their undertaking. At length, the "avenging army," under the guidance of General Pollock, having traversed the Punjaub with rapid strides, arrived at the gorge of the Khyber, and joyfully received the tidings of Jellalabad being still in the hands of Sale.

Resting awhile to give breath to his soldiers, and to see his army properly equipped, the gallant general (armed with full discretionary power from the noble and sagacious Ellenborough, whose strong arm now guided the helm of India) prepared to advance. From every village and fastness of the gloomy Khyber the gathering call had gone forth, and the ready mountaineers hastened to the defence of their hereditary defiles; but their haste was of no avail, for the Britons were advancing to save their gallant countrymen, to retaliate on the authors of the Caubul atrocities, and to rescue their countrywomen from captivity. Advancing, with his main body in the jaws of the defile, whilst his two wings spread over the flanking mountains, General Pollock drove the reluctant Khyberees from hill and sungahe[2] of their mountain chain, and, with a trifling loss, stood inside the barriers of Afghanistan, and within a few marches of Jellalabad; but Sale's daring band of warriors had provided for their own safety. Their bastions had sunk into dust before the earthquake, which rolled from the mountains of the Indian Caucasus across the Punjaub and into the heart of India; but, undaunted in heart and resolution, the garrison of Jellalabad opposed their breasts to the enemy, whilst the workmen repaired the damages: and let Akbar Khan (the treacherous and cold-blooded assassin) and the remnant of his twenty thousand companions in arms, bear witness to the unimpaired energy and courage of the garrison of Jellalabad. Heedless of the approaching reinforcements from India, they sallied, scarce two thousand in number, from the gates of their fortress, piercing the centre of the Afghan hosts, where the flashing sabre and deadly bayonet inflicted a partial retribution on their enemies, still reeking with the blood of the Caubul Tragedy.

That victory was purchased with the life of the heroic Dennie.[3] But where, save on the battle-field, should the soldier hope to fall, and when can the dart of death be more welcome to the warrior's breast than when, falling in the arms of victory, he feels the immortal laurel wreath rest lightly on his brow? Maligned by those who were jealous of his fame and acquirements, he fell in the vigour of manhood, and we may sadly concur with the panegyrist of Moore, in exclaiming—

"Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone,
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him;
But nothing he'll reck if they let him sleep on
In the grave where a Briton has laid him."

I can neither envy nor estimate the feelings which must have occupied the hearts of his invidious traducers, (and one especially, high in rank and authority, though ennobled only by name,) when the deeds and fate of the talented and lion-hearted Dennie wrung from the senate of England, after his death, that well-merited tribute which had not fallen to his lot during a life of gallant exploits, hardships, and sufferings.

The simultaneous advances of Generals Pollock and Nott from Jellalabad and Kandahar, were almost daily marked by the defeat or flight of the savage tribes who had aided in the massacre of the ill-fated garrison of Caubul. Ghuzni was not defended a second time, but evacuated on the approach of Nott, who dismantled its blood-stained fortifications, and thence moved, unopposed, to unite his army with Pollock's at Caubul. The tribes under Akbar Khan were more resolute in their defence; but light mountain troops, without artillery, and ignorant even of the most simple methods of rendering their passes more difficult of approach, present but a contemptible barrier to a well-organized and effective army. Marching over the heights, which were strewn with the mangled corpses of their ill-fated comrades, peals of British musketry rung a tardy death-knell to their memories, but wrote the epitaph in the blood of their assassins.

Leaving Khoord Caubul, the most formidable barrier to the metropolis, undefended, Akbar and his forces fled from the field of Tezeen, and left the country again in the hands of the British conquerors.

The capture of Istalif closed the three years' tragedy enacted amidst the rugged defiles of Afghanistan.

The unexpected release of the prisoners crowned the successes of this fortunate expedition; and it now remained only to retire, with as good a grace as possible, from a country where the most extraordinary vagary which had ever invaded the head of civilized man had originally conducted the army of the Indus.

As a last memento of the British invasion, the arched bazaars of the city of Caubul were destroyed, and buried in a confused mass of blackened ruins. This has always appeared to me rather a wanton mode of exciting the hostility of the harmless bunneahs[4] of Caubul against us: for the insurrection and its concomitant disasters arose not amongst the mercantile community of Caubul, but amongst the warlike mountain tribes. To punish the unfortunate house-owners of the bazaars, was not a dignified retaliation for our losses.

In November, 1842, the united forces quitted the metropolis of the Afghans, leaving the inhabitants of these barbarous regions to their wonted occupation of cutting each other's throats ad libitum. That soil can surely never flourish, which is eternally watered with human blood. The earliest records of Afghan history present to us the same prevalence of murderous tastes, from the days of Sinkol, the contemporary of Romulus, throughout the Middle Ages, down to the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and forty-two, when the British Government wisely resolved to have nothing more to do with Afghanistan.

Were the invasion of that country a measure conducive to our interests, it follows that the occupation thereof must have been necessary, in order to render it a bulwark against the nations lying to the north-west, of whom, in 1838, such unnecessary apprehensions were entertained. As this measure required a large subsidiary force to be maintained in the country, entailing a consequent augmentation of our army in the East, which was not convenient to the wishes or coffers of the Anglo-Indian Government, there cannot exist a doubt of the wisdom of Lord Ellenborough's administration in correcting the errors of his predecessor, and withdrawing the army from a country which was never likely to become a profitable territory.

The question of its advantages as a military position, may form a theoretical subject for discussion; but practically, the utter inability of the country to pay and maintain a large subsidiary force, and the impracticability of the exhausted revenues of India furnishing the sinews of war, sets the question at rest.

The finishing stroke yet required to be put to the Afghan policy, in disposing of Dost Mahomed, who had remained for some time in our hands; but now that his country was no longer an object of interest, of course the ex-king was less so. The release of that monarch, and his return to the throne—to hurl him from which had impoverished India, besides draining it of some of its best blood, was the practical and final satire on the Caubul campaign.

I have not been diffuse in entering on minute details of the losses experienced on our march into that country, because I cannot flatter myself that the subject possesses sufficient general interest; but should any one have any curiosity regarding the number of men, camels, horses, bullocks, and asses that died during the first campaign, together with the minutest particulars, more than the most inquisitive disciple of Hume could require, let him not languish in ignorance, for are they not written in the Book of Hough?

Our questionable allies, the Sikhs, having been a cause of some disquietude, it was thought prudent to assemble a large force on the north-west frontier, at the close of the year 1842, which was denominated the "Army of Reserve." This force, encamped on the banks of the Sutlej, in the vicinity of Ferozepore, awaited the return of the victorious troops from Afghanistan, and Lord Ellenborough was present in person to welcome the arrival of the Caubul warriors under a triumphal arch which he had caused to be erected at the extremity of a bridge of boats thrown across the Sutlej. The united forces, when Generals Nott and Pollock had joined us, exceeded forty thousand men; and thus the nations of the East were shown that Afghanistan was not abandoned owing to any weakness in a military point of view.

After two reviews of the army on the frontier, at which some of the Sikh Durbar were present, in the beginning of January, 1843, the army was broken up, and marched to their cantonments in Bengal.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Ghuzni, with its garrison, under command of Colonel Palmer, fell into the enemy's hands.

[2] The sungah is a stockade of loose stones, thrown up on the hill-side, or crest.

[3] Colonel Dennie, of H. M. 13th Light Infantry, was killed by a matchlock ball from a fort which he stormed when this sally was made.

[4] Shopkeepers.

[CHAPTER II.]

VISIT TO AGRA—JOURNEY THROUGH CENTRAL INDIA VIA GWALIOR, AND INDORE TO BOMBAY.

All chance of active service in India being apparently over, I availed myself of leave of absence, and began preparations for my journey towards Bombay. The route through central India, from Delhi or Agra, was at that time rarely travelled, and presented numerous attractions from the accounts I had read of its wild country and inhabitants. I was fortunate enough to find four acquaintances, who were also about to proceed homewards, and desirous of taking the nearest road, as the season was now far advanced, and the heat a little later becomes severe. Having appointed Agra as our rendezvous, I proceeded, with my valued friend L—— in advance. Our marching establishment to Delhi consisted of our riding-ponies and three camels, to carry our baggage, which, on arrival at that city, we agreed to reduce to the least possible compass. Having traversed the rich tract of country lying between Kurnaul and Delhi, we arrived on the fourth morning at that city. We now reduced our baggage to a pair of light boxes each; and leaving our tents, ponies, and other encumbrances, got into our palanquins, and at the usual rate of about four miles an hour, were jolted into Agra, and safely deposited under the verandah of our hospitable entertainer, Mr. A. Plowden, of the civil service.

During my sojourn in India, I had hitherto had no opportunity of visiting Agra, much and anxiously as I had wished to see its numerous objects of interest, but above all, the far-famed Taj Mahal.

The town itself presented little to interest the traveller; and having ridden through its narrow bazaars, we made a point, during the remainder of our stay, to avoid their unalluring precincts, even at the expense of an extra mile or two of ground.

The second evening of our residence, we petitioned our friend to delay no longer the visit to the Taj; and in accordance with our request, the dog-cart made its appearance, and I mounted beside our host, while L—— took up his place behind, to take charge, as he professed, of the whole concern. As we wound about the rocks in the suburbs of the city, the Jumna lay winding its tortuous course beneath us, and the summit of the glorious Taj suddenly opened on our view from amongst its graceful garland of thick cypress groves.

We had no time to express our admiration of the sight, for L——, who had been, as usual, overflowing with spirits the whole way, now exclaimed, as we were tearing along towards the monument at a pace which did credit to our little hack, "It matters more to you men of weight, physically speaking, than to me; but I do think there ought to be a linch-pin in the wheels of this uneasy machine."

Our host was turning round to make some rejoinder, when away spun the wheel in right earnest, and each occupant took involuntarily a line of country of his own. Fortunately for us, the road was some two feet deep in very fine dust, and we rested unharmed, though rather bewildered, on its woolly surface. After a few seconds, we all wheeled about, and meeting face to face, burst into laughter at each other's ludicrous appearance.

In the midst of our merriment, a britzka drove rapidly round the corner, and pulled up beside us, when we were rejoiced to find that its fair tenant was our hostess. Having committed the damaged cart to the charge of two sable attendants, we proceeded to our destination in the britzka, though not before L—— had carefully inspected the linch-pins of the carriage.

The shades of evening were thickening fast around us as we drew up at the archway, where it is necessary to dismount, and proceed on foot into the gardens of the Taj. Strolling on through avenues of cypress, speckled occasionally with basins of white marble amongst the evergreens which surround them, we arrived at the foot of the square platform on which the monument rests, at each angle of which rose an elaborately carved minaret.

The Taj itself is built entirely of white marble, and conveyed to my senses the very poetry of architecture. A good drawing might convey a better idea of its exterior than any amount of description could effect; but I have never seen one which at all satisfied me. The interior of the edifice, which is octagonal, and inlaid with mosaic of precious stones representing fruits and flowers, no drawing could ever do justice to. In the centre, surrounded by a screen of exquisitely-wrought white marble fretwork, stand beside each other the tombs of Shah Jehan and his sultana, Mumtaza Zemâni. As we gazed with solemn and mute admiration on the glorious objects around us, feeling that she who had stood unrivalled amongst the favourites of the East while living, had prevailed even beyond the grave in tenanting a resting-place which asserts an easy superiority over the handiworks of the children of men, a low strain of music arising from the waters of the Jumna poured its soft melody through the gratings of the edifice, and echoed in gently-repeated harmony along the roof.

As the last faint notes died away, we gradually awoke to the world around us, which we had long before quitted for the realms of imagination, and were almost startled by the tones of a human voice informing us that the music was of this earth, and had been provided for the occasion by our considerate host.

Never will be obliterated those happy hours from my memory, which I passed wandering amongst the groves and terraces of that type of symmetrical beauty. I have often thought, that should any immoderate afflictions fall to my lot in after life, I would make a pilgrimage to this spot; and there, though oblivion might be denied, yet, under the soothing influence of such a scene, the mind must be rendered more qualified to ascend from the highest and most perfect works of men to the throne of Him who controls their destinies.

Never having been a very enthusiastic admirer of architecture, and cordially admitting that "God made the country, man the town," I approached the Taj, dishonestly prejudiced against it, especially as I had heard the united voices of men raised in its favour; but no sooner had sufficient time been allowed for the mind to comprehend all its beauties, than I succumbed, and became a most passionate admirer of the Eastern sultana, so lovely in death.

Afterwards, we visited many other beautiful structures in the vicinity of Agra, especially the tomb and gardens of the Emperor Akbar; but we ought to have visited them first, for it was now too late; my affections had been engaged, and were ever recurring to, and dwelling with, the absent beauty on the banks of the Jumna.

Nearly a week having now elapsed since our arrival at Agra, and the whole of our travelling-party being assembled, a council of war was called, to debate on our future proceedings. It was ascertained, that in Agra barely a hundred men could be mustered to accompany us, as palanquin-bearers, across to Indore; and as thirty were required for each palanquin to carry it and our baggage an average rate of thirty miles a day, it became necessary to divide our party, two procuring horses and ponies for the transport of themselves and impedimenta, as the Romans appropriately termed it; and three, including Colonel L——, my friend L——, and myself, proceeding with the main body of Palkee bearers. We could only procure one servant to accompany us, (for the natives of Bengal seldom migrate to Bombay,) and the restless and untiring Dereah undertook that arduous office on the understanding that we provided him with treble wages, and a pony for the transport of his almost imperceptible person.

All arrangements having been completed, we left the sacred city, on the evening of the 10th of February, accompanied by as yelling and motley a crew of gentlemen in black as ever followed the track of a roving band of Pindarrees.

After numerous stoppages during the night, and angry expostulations with our detainers for the delay, and waste of strength by thus interrupting our rest, we arrived at Dholpore, a distance of about thirty-five miles, early next morning.

The Rajah of Dholpore, who resided near the stage bungalow where we halted, very politely sent us a present of rice, milk, fowls, and sweet-meats, for which we returned our hearty thanks, having nothing more valuable to offer, and we hoped few things could have been more acceptable.

At Dholpore we held a council to arrange plans for directing, with some regularity, the movements of our numerous forces, which, in their present state of anarchy, were not so effective as could be wished. Colonel L—— was unanimously elected as our commander-in-chief. Captain S—— was appointed quartermaster-general, and I was nominated to the united duties of adjutant-general and military secretary. Major L—— was appointed to superintend and represent the infantry, and, being unhappily very badly off for cavalry, Captain U—— undertook to represent that important branch of the service, and forthwith assumed command of the cook, Dereah; but to this an immediate objection was made, the commander-in-chief claiming him as a private orderly.

It now occurred to us that a most material omission had been made in neglecting to provide any artillery; but, after much deliberation, this difficulty was removed by Major L—— kindly volunteering to officiate also in that capacity. This offer was accepted by universal acclamation, as that gallant officer wore in his belt a pistol in proportion to his own stature, and was moreover known to have made as much noise since he came into the world as qualified him to compete, in that respect, with the artillery of the whole British army.

Leaving Dholpore in the evening, and walking most part of the way, for the road was very wild and rugged, we arrived, late at night, on the banks of the river Chumbul. After a detention of many hours, in consequence of no notice having been sent to the ferry, we were, early in the morning, transported across under the auspices of a boatman, who we agreed must have been Charon's representative on earth, for a more grim and ungainly looking savage I never beheld. He either could not or would not use his tongue, answering our inquiries about the road with impatient gestures. Giving him the benefit of the doubt about the use of his tongue, he escaped chastisement.

We reached the city of Gwalior about mid-day, and were kindly entertained at the house of the British resident, Colonel Spiers.

A few days before our arrival, the King of Gwalior had died, and, as usual, in states not completely under British control in India, this event caused a great commotion, which did not subside before they had been embroiled with the British government[5] and taught to be quiet.

In the course of the day a Vakeel arrived from the Gwalior-court at Colonel Spiers' residence, and, hearing that we were about to proceed across the Gwalior territories, he volunteered to send with us an escort of Native Cavalry, who, he informed us, would be of use in procuring supplies from the villages, as also in acting as guides. We gladly accepted his offer, and, in the afternoon, quitted the residency with our savage-looking escort of Mahratta cavalry, dressed in flowing robes of cotton or silk of various colours, confined at the waist, with a coarse shawl or cotton kummurbund,[6] bound closely round the body, and furnished with an armoury of crooked knives and long pistols. Their legs were ensconced in long deerskin boots, and their heads in steel semicircular helmets, with a loose piece of chain armour attached and hanging over the shoulders. In the heat of the day a part of the silk or cotton round the waist was detached, and bound over the helmet to protect the wearer from the rays of the sun, which, striking on the polished steel, would have rendered it nearly intolerable. Behind their backs were slung matchlocks of great length of barrel; and in their hands, or thrown loosely on the hollow of the shoulder, were lances, calculated to reach an enemy at about ordinary pistol-shot range. We now really began to feel that we were an army, and, on entering on the duties of office, I received orders from the commander-in-chief, of the most peremptory nature, to take care that he was always provided with milk for breakfast. This duty I assigned to the most brawny looking warrior in our escort, and he received the order with as much gravity as if I had desired him to charge a host of Pindarrees.

Passing the fortress of Gwalior, constructed on a rocky eminence, we wound about the city, which is prettily situated beneath a semicircle of low hills, and appeared to have been built with more attention to substantial comfort and cleanliness than is generally bestowed on eastern cities. In the north-western quarter, where the cantonments are situated, the ground was laid out in large squares for parades, and shaded by rows of fruit trees fronting each side.

Having walked nearly five hours, enjoying the beautiful and temperate night, in company with my friend L——, we ascended our palanquins, and woke not till the sun was high next morning, when we put up, during the heat of the day, under the friendly shade of a banyan tree, and beside a small village, where, alas! no milk was procurable for the commander-in-chief's breakfast. My Mahratta friend brought two of the chiefs of the village at the point of his spear, who, after numerous salaams, protested most earnestly that there were no goats in their village to afford milk; and, after earnest protestations of their poverty, they were silent, and looked like condemned criminals. I told them it was a most grave offence they had committed, in not having or procuring any milk; but, being disposed to leniency, I would overlook the offence if they brought immediately some fresh eggs. This was at once complied with, and the village delinquents, having received payment for the same, retired overjoyed at this unexpected munificence. The commander-in-chief's resentment was in some measure appeased by using a fresh egg as a substitute for milk; and a young peacock and a brace of partridges, which I shot in time to be placed in Dereah's hands for breakfast, earned a full pardon.

We continued to traverse a bare rocky country for many leagues, travelling all night, and putting up, during the heat of the day, under some friendly tree or shed, where, with the produce of my gun, and the assistance of collections made by our escort in the villages, (when any were met with, but here they were few and far between) we reached the cantonment of Sipree on the 15th of February. The Sipree contingent were absent on active service, in the jungles of Bundelkund; but we put up at the house of one of the officers, which was situated on a hill commanding an extensive view over the bare country, and where the breeze whistled most musically along the verandahs.

The character of the country we now traversed was the opposite to that of Bengal: high and rocky hills skirted us on each side, and occasionally crossed our route: now, we plunged into a dense and apparently endless jungle, from which we suddenly emerged on a tract intersected by ravines, which nearly broke our palanquin bearers' hearts.

The most unaccountable animals of our party were the cook, Dereah, and his little Agra pony, which was rarely known to feed during our toilsome journey. The cook, his master, was certainly never found napping except during one hour previous to our evening meal, whilst the pea-fowl soup was simmering on the embers, and both readily and cheerfully resumed their route, as if that was the only really important object of their lives.

At the frontiers of Scindiah, our escort was relieved by another cavalcade of similar strength, who proved equally useful; and the commandant seemed much offended at our tender of money for their services. He requested we would give him a note to testify that all had faithfully discharged their duty; which was, of course, done.

At length, we reached Indore, which was about half-way to Bombay, and had, by this time, become thoroughly weary of our narrow palanquin abodes.

On our arrival at Indore, we found that Sir Claude Wade, the British resident, was absent on a tour of inspection in the jungles, but we were taken charge of by Dr. Bruce, the medical attaché of the residency, and we required much at the hands of our kind host.

I do not remember having seen any place in India bearing a resemblance to Indore. The residency is a magnificent building, situated on a rising ground, and overlooking a country which resembled an English park, in its pastures, trees, and evergreens. The trees looked thoroughly English; the turf, though something of a bilious hue, deserved the name; and the deer which speckled it completed the picture we had been drawing in our imaginations of some English grandee's residence. Nor was there anything to interfere with the comparison, until, arriving at the hall, you were greeted by a challenge from the Sepoy sentry, an incident decidedly at variance with an English landscape.

Having remained two days at Dr. Bruce's house, we proceeded to Mhow, about fourteen miles distant, the frontier station of the troops in the Bombay Presidency, where we put up at a stage bungalow built by Government for the convenience of travellers. Bungalows are shortly to be constructed at regular intervals along the whole road which we have traversed. Our palanquin bearers refused to proceed any further, save at an exorbitant rate, whereupon L—— and I quietly paid our people their demands, and requested them to depart in peace, adding that we would seek more useful and expeditious means of proceeding. Colonel L——, unfortunately, had suffered much from fatigue; he consequently retained all his people, and proceeded with the other half of our party, who were provided with ponies, whilst L—— and I started off to the bazaar to see what means of conveyance were procurable. We found a Parsee merchant, with whom we made friends by making some purchases, and were by him introduced to a great proprietor of ponies, who engaged to carry all that was required by us, ourselves included, as far as Dhoolia cantonments, whence, we were informed, bullock-carts might be obtained to take us on to Kirkee, which was our destination for the present.

We continued our journey, mostly on foot, over the wild and beautiful Ghauts, on this frontier, and in a few days came to a regular chain of stage bungalows, which afforded us comparative luxuries, after our long sojourn amongst sheds and native serais. After a weary journey in bullock-carts, we reached Ahmednuggur, from whence one night's ride, with relays of horses furnished by our friends at the latter station, brought us to Kirkee, where I met with a friend, to visit whom had been the principal object of my expedition to this part of the world.

To this meeting I had long looked forward with much delight, for there is no happiness to which this life has treated me, surpassing, in my estimation, that of meeting with a dearly-loved friend after a long separation. Upwards of seven years had elapsed since we parted. We had each been wandering in various parts of this beautiful world; we had passed from the embryo period of life to manhood; and I firmly believe our friendship had lasted untainted by experience and intercourse with the rough edges of the world; an attrition which is apt to render the patient too callous to understand the true meaning of friendship.

I dwell with fond but mournful reflection on that meeting, for, alas, it cannot be repeated on this side of the grave! A few months after I had quitted India, my noble and highly-gifted friend met with a sudden and tragical death. The trigger of a pistol, incautiously handled, was touched, and the fatal slip of the thumb off the hammer, destroyed, in a few seconds, one of the noblest of mankind. Possessing a mind of gigantic natural ability, aided by an accurate and retentive memory, and great power of application, he was qualified to be an ornament to any profession or country. With pride and confidence I looked forward to a future brilliant career, when his capacity should be known to those who might have the means of serving him and his country by its development. But in the enjoyment of robust health, and unrivalled bodily strength, the irresistible arm of Destiny interposed and led him to the grave.

"Ω, πολυπονοι, πολυσονοι, γενος εφαμεοὡν
Αευσσεθ' ωζ παῥ ελπιδαϛ ἡ μοιοα ζαινει
Και βροτὡν πας ασταθμητος αιων."

Farewell, for ever, my fondly-valued, Sydney! Though in this world we shall not meet again, I yet shall never part with your image; in contemplating which I shall learn to admire and reverence a character in strange contrast with the result of daily experience—a character surpassing in reality those imaginative sketches on the monuments of the posthumous successors to virtue, or the titled inheritors of greatness they never earned, who are flattered into the presence of their God with a lying epitaph, when—

"On the tomb is seen,
Not what they were, but what they should have been."

If a life of stern and undeviating integrity, and a practice of the duties enjoined to man by Him who made the stars, afford hopes of immortality, Sydney, you alone, of those with whose characters I have been conversant, possess an irreproachable title.

FOOTNOTES:

[5] The war was decided, in one day, by the actions of Maharajpore and Punniaz.

[6] Waistbelt.

[CHAPTER III.]

ARRIVAL IN CALCUTTA—DEPARTURE FOR THE SOUTH-WESTERN FRONTIER—ARRIVAL AT MERUT—STATE OF AFFAIRS ON THE NORTH-WESTERN FRONTIER—THE SIKH MILITARY ESTABLISHMENT—THE BRITISH POSITION.

After two years' absence, early in October, 1845, I disembarked from one of those monster steamers at Calcutta, by whose assistance the months occupied in our former intercourse with India are reduced to weeks, and the probability of arrival, not only to a day, but almost to an hour. Not ten years ago I remember hearing an eminent lecturer in London prove to the complete satisfaction (apparently) of a crowded amphitheatre, that steam communication with India, via the Red Sea and Arabian Gulf, was impossible. We were told that the monsoons, the shoals in the Red Sea, and the tornadoes which rush from the gullies across its fatal waters, were too much even for the iron heart of a steamer to encounter; and should any fortunate passengers escape these evils, the sands of the desert between Suez and Alexandria were prepared to overwhelm the caravan of presuming adventurers.

The practical comment of 1846 and some preceding years, has reduced these imaginary terrors to their proper value; and a railroad across the Isthmus, if the Pasha have the wisdom to benefit his country and many others, by adopting the suggestions of British engineers, will bring India three days nearer to Europe. Steam has so far substituted time for distance, that I am sure I shall be excused for adopting the modern change of terms. Miles and other barbarous terms may continue to be used for many years to come in uncivilized climes, but who would think of talking of the number of miles between London and Bristol, when the Great Western authorities announce it to be, by express, precisely two hours and forty-five minutes.

When will this happy system of railroads be applicable to India? or, rather, when will it be applied? for a more favourable surface for operations could hardly be selected in the world, and the advantages to Government are incalculable. A British force, after defeating the Burmese on the banks of the Burhampooter, might be steamed up to the Sutlej in time to repulse the malignant Sikhs before supper the following evening, and then proceed on their tour of conquest as long as the steam could be kept up or an enemy found.

These may be termed little more than idle visions to the patient sufferer who is about to undergo a transportation to the upper provinces of Bengal, at the mournful average of three miles an hour, if the weather be favourable—considerably less if a heavy fall of rain should occur; and in October, 1845, the rain did come down in real earnest, as I left Calcutta.

I shall not pause to acquaint the reader with the latitude and longitude of Calcutta, neither will I expatiate on the beauties of Government House, or the relative numbers and merits of the Hindoo and Mussulman inhabitants. As the gazetteer can give that and much more valuable information on the same head, I will not rashly enter into competition with one possessed of so much general information, but refer the curious to its pages, whilst I invite the less particular to accompany me in a journey to the south-western frontier, and I will do my best to entertain my companions.

Hearing that there was no necessity for being in the upper provinces just now, inasmuch as the governor-general, and all India, except the Delhi Gazette, seemed bent to maintain the most profound peace ever known in Hindostan, I gladly seized the opportunity of paying a visit to a valued friend dwelling amongst the jungles of the south-western frontier.

In company with a brother officer, who was travelling the same road, I embarked in a palanquin amidst the torrents of rain which descended in streams, threatening to convert our sturdy little bearers into strong resemblances of water-rats.

We managed, fortunately, to ford the Damooda river before the storm had attained its maximum, or the journey might have been seriously interrupted, for during very heavy storms this river is subject to violent inundations, when a rolling column of water, several feet in height, and resembling the bore[7] on the Ganges, rushes down the river's course, flooding the neighbouring country, and causing many calamities. On the right bank of the Damooda was a shed, which afforded a partial shelter to our exhausted palanquin bearers, and here we rested in hopes of the tempest abating.

About midnight, a lull took place, and we proceeded, the bearers staggering with difficulty through the swamp, which the surrounding country had now become. Travelling that night, and the following day, with the tempest bursting in fitful gusts, we reached the dwelling of an indigo planter, in the lonely jungles, late in the evening, where we were hospitably received, and rested a few hours.

At midnight we proceeded en route, and arrived, as the day broke, on the bank of a swollen torrent. The primitive mode of crossing, which we were compelled to adopt, was by means of a raft, made of bamboos, bound together, crosswise, over a dozen large earthenware jars.[8] Trusting to the declared experience of our bearers, we embarked on this singular conveyance, the natives swimming alongside, and safely landing everything on the opposite shore in two or three expeditions. Whilst our bearers were engaged in this manner, I observed, a few yards above the raft, something resembling a rope being dragged across the torrent, and running down to the edge to ascertain what it was, an enormous serpent landed beside me, and departed, without any delay, into the woods. Although the stream was running with great rapidity, he had made nearly a direct course across the torrent.

We proceeded onwards, during the whole day, through a heavy jungle, scarcely meeting with any human abode—except the small sheds where our relay of bearers awaited us, at the end of each stage of ten or twelve miles—whilst the storm of rain continued with unabated vigour. At nightfall we reached another torrent, or nullah, as they are called in India, where our progress seemed altogether arrested, for it proved to be more than ten feet deep, was running like a sluice, and no raft of any kind was procurable; nor did our attendants seem disposed to make any attempts; they remarked that an indigo shed was close at hand, and that we should be all drowned if we attempted to cross. Then patiently seating themselves, they looked steadily in our faces to await the decision. The choice was not a matter of difficulty; we preferred the indigo shed to being drowned, hoping that by daybreak the waters might in some degree subside.

The ancients indulged their mirth at the simplicity of the

"Rusticus expectans dum defluat amnis."

Yet the inhabitants of India have been pretty often constrained to adopt the practice.

The indigo shed, after some demur on the part of the native in charge, was opened for the reception of our palanquins and travelling cases, which had long since been thoroughly soaked. We soon found that we were not destined to be the sole tenants of the shed, for the swarms of mosquitoes exceeded any display of the kind I had seen before. We obtained a jar of charcoal to boil the kettle for our frugal meal of tea and biscuits, which soon produced a suffocating sensation. We left, in hopes of being rid of our tormentors by this expedient; but they had not apparently the same objections as ourselves, and were buzzing with renewed delight and welcome on seeing us return. In vain we closed the doors of our palanquins, and nearly stifled ourselves with heat; our active enemies forced a passage through the crevices of the blinds; they would not be baulked of their rightful food, and it was evident that a white victim was no ordinary delicacy.

We anxiously watched for the break of day, and when the dawn was perceptible, arose from our restless mats, stirred up the sleeping establishment, and proceeded to the banks of the nullah. The weather had moderated a little, and, about mid-day, the water had sunk to about five feet, which gave rather a precarious ford. As the deep part was not very wide, though exceedingly rapid, our bearers consented to make the passage with the empty palanquins on their heads, and afterwards to carry each article separately, whilst we stripped and took the water in support of the sable army. This mode was practised, and successfully performed, though the passage of the palanquins was rather precarious: to have lost them in these wild jungles would have been an irreparable disaster.

From hence, our journey through the jungles and hilly country, which we afterwards entered, was slow, but unobstructed. In many parts, the country was eminently beautiful; especially so in the neighbourhood of Ranchee, where dwelt the excellent and hospitable friend, to visit whom had been the object of my journey.

The Kholes, who inhabit this tract of country, lay claim to be aborigines of Hindostan; nay, more: they designate themselves as the first people created, "except the English," added a polite barbarian, who was recapitulating the claims to antiquity, with this unfortunate exception, which tended to overthrow the whole fabric.

Early one morning, as we were sitting in the verandah of my friend's house, two inhabitants of a neighbouring village made their appearance, and began a most dolorous tale regarding the devastations committed among their kindred by a cruel ghost, to eject which they solicited the sahib's aid.

"It is well," replied the controller of spirits; "go, the ghost shall be caught."

With a submissive reverence due to such power, the two gentlemen in black took their departure, evidently satisfied with the success of their mission.

The ghost complained of was the cholera, which pays frequent visits to this country, but rarely resides more than a few days in a village, when he takes wing in search of fresh victims.

A chuprassie, or messenger, dressed in the belt and insignia of office, is sent to the village, and ordered to await until the scourge abates; and as imagination, beyond a doubt, has much influence in this disease, the arrival of the chuprassie, sent officially to catch the ghost, has no doubt a salutary effect on the superstition of the sufferers; and probably, on leaving, there is not a soul in the place foolhardy enough to doubt that the ghost has taken his departure under the chuprassie's belt.

In this part of India, a few years back almost unknown, and affording a safe asylum for the predatory tribes of Pindarrees until the wise policy of Lord Hastings' government uprooted those daring tribes of banditti, the most profound tranquillity now prevails. The natives have learned, not only to respect, but to love, the mild authority which has restored the golden era, enabling all to repose in security, and to lead the life of inoffensive simplicity for which the Hindoo is eminently qualified, but which the oppressive rule of the Mussulman conquerors long forbade him to enjoy.

The climate in this hilly district is temperate, presenting a favourable contrast to the execrable damp heat of Calcutta, at the close of the rainy season. The numerous conical hills, hinged with thick jungle, afford an agreeable change of view to one accustomed to the monotonous flat surface of the Bengal provinces from the Rajemal to the Himalayah mountains; and these belts of jungle merit the sportsman's attention, owing to the colonies of tigers, bears, and leopards which seek their shelter. In the thick forests and prairies, further to the west, is found a large beast of the bison kind,[9] whose courage and ferocity recommend him to the most adventurous of Eastern sportsmen; indeed, few would enjoy the daring toil and sport long, unless provided with a heart and eye correctly placed.

My visit to these alluring regions, and to the residence of my kind and valued friends, will always continue the most pleasing recollection afforded by my sojourn in India; but that happy time was curtailed by letters which reached me from Upper India. The aspect of affairs on the north-west frontier, upwards of a thousand miles distant from my present abode, was so warlike, that I felt it my duty to lose no time in prosecuting that long and tedious journey, as my regiment were cantoned in a neighbourhood which rendered the requisition for their service a certainty, in case of hostilities ensuing.

Sending on our palanquins and bearers in the morning, we followed, in the afternoon, on elephants, through the heavy jungles and deep, gloomy ravines; and, travelling at a rate of about five miles an hour, reached Hazarebaugh in the course of the next day.

Some of the Ameers of Scinde,[10] who had been recently deposed, were then residing at this deserted cantonment under surveillance, and we paid them a visit in the evening, accompanied by the officer in charge. They were living in spacious bungalows, under little restraint, and with many of their own people around them. Were it not that those who have once been possessed of power seem to languish under its loss—should the privation have been involuntary—I should have said that the Ameers had more reason to be contented with their present lot than when placed at the head of a lawless and warlike race, whom they were unable to control, and of whom they stood in constant dread.

But the recommendation of sages, and the advice of poets, "privatus ut altùm dormiret," have been alike disregarded; and although, from the reign of Commodus to the accession of Constantine, every Roman emperor, save Claudius, was assassinated, yet was there no dearth of candidates for the fatal purple.

On informing the Ameers that we had recently arrived from England, they eagerly questioned me as to the probability of their reinstatement.

They smiled incredulously, when I told them I was in no way connected with the India house, and unable to afford them any information. We then conversed upon Scinde, which I told them I had visited on a former occasion, when with Sir John Keane's force, and they politely declared that they remembered me well, an Asiatic façon de parler, for during my Scindian tour, I had not seen one of the Ameers of the present party.

After an exchange of trifling presents, we took our leave of the Ameers, and the same night left Hazarebaugh in our palanquins. After a hot and tedious journey along the main trunk-road, resting for two or three hours during the heat of each day at the government bungalows, erected for that purpose, we reached Cawnpore. At this place, we found that a great improvement[11] had taken place in the mode of travelling, by placing the palanquin on a truck drawn by a horse, which is relieved every ninth or tenth mile, and the traveller is thus enabled to proceed at the rate of eight miles an hour in lieu of three.

I accomplished the journey to Merut in about thirty hours, having had only one upset, and a few trifling bruises; for the horses seemed to have come to an understanding with each other that they were to take any direction, at first starting, but that of the main road. At almost every stage, this system of bolting was attempted; but when once impelled to a canter, they seemed generally to acknowledge the error of their former ways, and to atone for it by making the best and steadiest progress in their power. Though occasionally some headstrong novice would try the effect of a few rapid swerves, he generally got the worst of it in the end, receiving pretty smart chastisement from the native driver, accompanied by torrents of abuse bestowed on the delinquent and his whole generation, frequently intermingled with most opprobrious, and doubtless unmerited, epithets on his mother and sisters. This is, I am sorry to say, but too common a practice amongst the natives throughout India; whenever man or beast offends them, they are in the habit of retaliating immediately on his inoffensive female relatives. Thus, lovely woman is ever wont to become the meek and unsuspecting victim of him who should have been her protector; from Queen Pomare to Mrs. Caudle, in modern times, from Medea to Xantippe, in ancient, they are always right, and almost invariably suffer wrong. The main cause of this injustice may be attributed to their having neglected to maintain their undoubted right to a voice and seat in the legislature; and though, from amiable weakness, or more laudable modesty, they have hitherto refrained from urging their claims, it is base oppression to take advantage of such honourable causes of reluctance. If a type of power be wanting, it may be adduced at once; for did not the greatest political despot of these, or any other times, refuse to accept office until her Majesty would assent to change her female friends? A general revolt, especially if the fair rebels only held out long enough, would be certain of ultimate success. I speak only with regard to civilized countries; for in the East, there are reasons which might interfere most materially with the success of such a proceeding.

On my arrival at Merut, I found all parties deeply interested in the news daily arriving from the frontier; the question of peace or war decidedly held the next place in importance in the estimation of the European community after that of the impending race meeting.

As the Merut races may not afford matter of so much general interest elsewhere as they did in the north-western provinces of Bengal, I will enter first on the question of secondary importance.

Notwithstanding the hostile attitude assumed by the Sikh army, Sir Henry Hardinge continued to declare publicly his pacific wishes and intentions, though, as a precautionary measure, the British regiments had been drawn from the lower provinces of Bengal to strengthen the north-western frontier.

The Sikh soldiery had held the upper hand of power since the demise of Runjeet Singh, and, having elected their own Punchayut to legislate in all matters connected with the army, an increase of numbers and advance of pay had been the consequence, although the latter still continued some months in arrears. The Ranee had continued to hold the name of regent for her child Dhuleep Singh; and, being possessed of much address and natural cunning, she had contrived to retain some semblance of authority over the soldiery. Many of the sirdars, being possessed of considerable wealth and a proportionate suite of dependents, might, had they been united, have held a counteracting influence; but, in the present state of affairs, they were compelled to seek popularity with the soldiery as the most probable means of advancement. Those who of late had held the responsible office of vizier, had found little cause to exult in the precarious honour; for, when unpopular with the army or brought into collision with rival chiefs, a bullet or a cimeter had speedily ended their career. The last and recent victim had been the Ranee's own brother, Jowahir Singh.

The winter was now far advanced; the main body of the Sikh army assembled, as usual, at Lahore, or in its vicinity; and none of the sirdars having of late become particularly obnoxious,[12] the soldiery were at a sad loss in the selection of some victim to satisfy their thirst for blood and plunder.

The idea soon suggested itself (home being nearly exhausted) to look abroad for conquest and rapine. The most obvious and tempting prize for their cupidity was Hindostan. The wealth of Delhi, Agra, Benares, Calcutta, were proverbial; and the hateful Feringhees, what masses of rupees must lay hidden in their store-houses! The British troops were much scattered about the face of the country; many of the sepoys might probably be induced to desert by the promise of increased pay; and were not the Khalsas assembled together, ready for action, and irresistible? These reflections were carefully fomented by a representation that the governor-general was on his progress to the frontier, and had resolved to demand from the Sikhs a cession of all lands on the British side of the Sutlej.

What could be more conducive to the interests of the Ranee and many of the sirdars than these projects? What easier than to write to the British authorities a lamentation of her inability to restrain the licentious soldiery? Should they be repulsed, the British government must place them in a tractable and organized condition, but could never deprive an inoffensive child, and the hereditary successor to the throne, of its rights, for acts unauthorized by his advisers. The moderation of the Indian government, in its successes against the native powers, warranted such a conclusion. On the other hand, should the Sikh army be successful, they must look to the Ranee in authority at Lahore for numerous requisites to be supplied for the army in the progress of the campaign, and in case of success how faithfully they would have been supplied. Does the matter admit of a doubt? Her faithful and confidential adviser, her more than friend, marched with the forces, as second in command, Rajah Lal Singh.[13]

Of late, the Ranee had devoted herself much to intoxicating liquors, and had indulged so freely that, according to the accounts forwarded by the governor-general's agent, Major Broadfoot, she had lost much of the energy and intelligence which used to mark her character; nor was she by any means singular in this propensity, for the greater portion of the Sikh sirdars followed zealously in the steps of their mistress. The Shalimar gardens, a few miles distant from Lahore, have witnessed scenes of drunkenness and debauchery, unparalleled, perhaps, in any of the capitals of modern Europe. The letters from the governor-general's agent on the north-western frontier, from May 8th to August 10th, 1845, will throw as true a light on the occupation and morality of the court and army of Lahore as could be sought or desired.

Rajah Ghoolab Singh,[14] the richest and most powerful of the chiefs, having narrowly escaped the fury of the soldiery, on a recent occasion, at Lahore, and being, moreover, unpopular with the Ranee, remained in his own territories at Jamoo, in the hill districts, wisely resolving to watch the progress of events, now evidently hurrying to a crisis, and to play his own game in due season, which, in the sequel, it will be acknowledged, he executed in masterly style. He was continually invited and urged to descend and take a part in the impending hostilities, but was so earnestly engaged in making preparations on an extensive scale that it took him many weeks to reach the capital.

On more than one occasion the Sikh army had actually marched from Lahore towards the Sutlej, with the avowed intention of invading the British territories, but had, on second thoughts, returned to Lahore to discuss the matter once more.

The most effective branch of the Sikh forces were the Aeen battalions, whose discipline and formation had been the result of many years' exertion, in the days of Runjeet, on the part of European officers in his service. Their arms and uniform resembled much that of our native troops, except the peculiar Sikh turban; and, until the revolutions which succeeded Runjeet's death, their discipline had been strictly maintained. As the officers who had brought them to a state of efficiency and discipline had all either left the country, died, or been otherwise summarily disposed of, the general supposition was that these troops would no longer be very formidable, but this impression proved incorrect. The Aeen forces have occasionally varied in strength and numbers, but amounted at this time to sixty battalions, whereof about forty were with the army of Lahore, and the remainder principally quartered in the neighbourhood of Peshawur.

Six hundred men constituted the full effective strength of each battalion, and to each were attached its own four pieces of cannon with their complement of artillerymen.

The Sikh artillery we had seen at exercise on former occasions, and their fire was known to be rapid and tolerably accurate; they had, in fact, enjoyed the reputation of being, in all respects, the best appointed arm of their service. All had been done that lay in our power to render them effective, for, on previous occasions, when the governor-general paid his visits to the Lahore Durbar, it had been usual to present the best pieces of artillery procurable, which served for excellent models in the Lahore arsenal.

The Sikh Regular Cavalry had been abolished, and replaced by hordes of irregulars; and as no petty chief in the Punjaub appears on public parade without a band of armed retainers, generally well mounted and equipped, the irregular cavalry were almost numberless.

There were also some corps of irregular infantry or Bundookcheras; these irregulars, both cavalry and infantry, might, on emergency, be mustered to a numerical force at least double that of the regular troops.

With an enemy of this description assembled forty miles from the British frontier, and with fords innumerable along the line of the Sutlej, between Ferozepore and Loodiana, during the cold season, it must be acknowledged that the game was not an easy one to Sir Henry Hardinge, when desirous of appearing peaceably disposed.

By the treaty of 1809, Runjeet Singh bound himself not to cross any armed parties into the protected Sikh states, beyond what were necessary for the collection of revenue; and when any large body of troops were moved, an intimation of the march and the causes was always sent to the British political agent. The vizier, Jowahir Singh, insisted that this custom should be abolished, alleging that the Lahore government had a right to send over any body of troops they might deem requisite to suppress disturbances occurring in the lands in question, without awaiting for the permission of the British authorities. The protected Sikh chiefs, being mostly possessed of lands on both sides of the Sutlej, concurred in Jowahir Singh's views, which tended to establish their own independence, by permitting the passage of troops from their possessions on one bank, to those on the other—a measure evidently at variance with our interests and security, as it must render all efforts to ascertain the numerical force of armed parties in the Cis-Sutlej states abortive.

The actual assemblage of an army on the Sutlej was considered, by Sir Henry Hardinge, unadvisable, as tending to display hostile intentions on our part, and likely to cause a rupture with the Sikh forces in their present excited state; yet, by refraining from such a measure, our frontier was exposed, at any time during the winter and spring,[15] to the ravages of an army which might commit serious depredations before a British force could be assembled to oppose it.

The forts of Ferozepore and Loodiana were perfectly secure; the former, being constructed on modern principles, and garrisoned by British troops, might have held out as long as required; but both cantonments and native towns were exposed to the will of the enemy. This was a fundamental error in both positions, which, being thrown so far forward from any support, should have been actually fortresses only, constructed on the best modern principles, and unencumbered by large towns and indefensible cantonments.

On the British side of the river, the population in the protected Sikh states being intimately connected with that of the Punjaub, and many portions of the land actually the property of Sikh sirdars with the army, it is natural to suppose that we possessed but doubtful friends in case of their being called upon. On the other hand, it was maintained that the position of these lands would be a guarantee for the good behaviour of their owners residing in the Punjaub, whose interests would probably suffer in case of a rupture.

The Rajah of Puttealah, the most powerful chief residing in the protected states, had long been a firm ally of the British Government, but his power to restrain his followers was doubtful; at the best, no doubt was entertained that they would not act in offensive measures against their Sikh kinsmen.

FOOTNOTES:

[7] Though from a different cause, the bore of the Ganges proceeding from spring tides forced up the narrow gorge of the Bay of Bengal; that on the Damooda, from the inundation bursting its obstructions.

[8] If there happen to be rocks in the stream, a strike is apt to prove fatal to the raft.

[9] Known in India as the "gour." Those who may be desirous of reading an animated description of the pursuit of this noble game, will find an article in the first number of the "Indian Sporting Review," signed "Junglee," written by a sportsman who has few rivals and no superiors. He is the acknowledged monarch of the jungles, and long may he reign.

[10] The remainder resided near Calcutta, at Dum-dum, the artillery cantonment.

[11] The credit of this improvement is due to Lord Ellenborough.

[12] Some of the soldiers had suggested the murder of the sirdars, Lal Singh and Tig Singh (two chiefs of the army), as a temporary amusement, but the majority being indifferent to the measure, the subject was allowed to drop.

[13] Lal Singh's presence with the army was deemed, by the Punchees, (military delegates,) a politic measure, and a sort of security for the good behaviour of her respectable majesty the Ranee.

[14] Ghoolab Singh, Soochet Singh, and Dyan Singh, were three brothers who had risen to eminence in the time of Runjeet, from comparative obscurity. The two latter fell, during the wholesale massacres at Lahore, a short time ago.

[15] In the hot season, when the rains set in, the heavy floods and inundations are a sufficient protection to the frontier.

[CHAPTER IV.]

THE BRITISH FORCES—THE SIKH ARMY CROSS THE SUTLEJ—THE BATTLE OF MOODKEE—POSITION AND OPERATIONS CONSIDERED.

Under the circumstances thus briefly detailed, it would appear to have been expedient to bring matters at once to a crisis; for this annual threatening posture assumed by the gigantic incubus which Runjeet Singh had created on our threshold, could not be suffered permanently to draw the strength of the British forces in the presidency to guard their frontier. But it was generally understood that the wishes of Leadenhall Street were strongly in favour of a pacific line of conduct, and thus the governor-general had little choice as to the line of operations to be pursued.

No actual increase of numbers over the preceding year took place on the frontier, but nearly every British regiment in Bengal had been marched to the north-western provinces.

Umbala was the cantonment for the main body of the army, to which Ferozepore and Loodiana were the outposts on the Sutlej, distant respectively one hundred and ten, and seventy miles, whilst the base line connecting the latter places measured about seventy-five miles.

The reserve force remained at Merut, which, being one hundred and fifty miles from Umbala, and more than two hundred and sixty from Ferozepore, might appear the most defective part of the arrangement.

The whole of the Bengal presidency had been so drained of British troops to supply the north-western provinces, that from Merut to Calcutta (nearly nine hundred miles,) there remained but one British infantry regiment[16] to overawe the numerous independent principalities of India, to garrison Fort William, and to show the people of Hindostan that the British had not altogether forsaken them in their ardour to form new acquaintances on the frontier. No one will assert that the gallant 39th had not a handful of responsibility assigned them, and none were more capable of undertaking whatever Britons could effect, than the victors of Maharajpore.

The forces at Ferozepore, Loodiana, and Umbala, including the regiments at the hill stations of Kussowlie and Subathoo, amounted to about twenty thousand men, with seventy pieces of cannon, (six and nine-pounders, and twelve and twenty-four-pound howitzers.) This force having been warned some weeks previously to complete their marching establishment, were available for field service at a few hours' notice.

The regiments composing the above-named force were as follow:—H.M.'s 3rd Light Dragoons, and seven regiments of Native Cavalry; H.M.'s 9th, 29th, 31st, 50th, 62nd, and 80th Regiments; the Company's European Regiment, and fourteen regiments of Native Infantry, exclusive of the Sirmoor and Nusseeree battalions, which were destined to garrison Loodiana in case of emergency.

The reserve force, at Merut, amounted to more than four thousand men, including H.M. 9th and 16th Lancers, 3rd Native Cavalry, H.M. 10th Regiment, two corps of Native Infantry, and two troops of Horse Artillery. An elephant battery of twelve-pounders also moved with the reserve force. Other corps in the neighbourhood or on the line of march might complete the whole reserve force to a numerical strength of about eight thousand men.

Thus, within a month, the whole army might, when concentrated on the frontier, amount, in round numbers, to nearly thirty thousand men, with one hundred pieces of artillery. Nearly one-third of which force would consist of British troops, including the artillery, of which not more than one-third were natives.

With such an army at his disposal, Sir Henry Hardinge cannot be deemed guilty of having despised his enemies.

On the 20th of November, Major Broadfoot[17] communicated to the governor-general that the information which he had received from Lahore led him to suppose that the Sikhs had resolved on an advance towards the Sutlej, for the purpose of invading the British territories, and the next day's accounts tended to corroborate this statement.

On the 24th and 25th of November, a great portion of the Sikh army were on their march towards the Sutlej, openly proclaiming their intentions of crossing the river. On this news reaching the governor-general's camp, the Sikh Vakeel (ambassador) was called upon for an explanation of this hostile attitude, and being unable to give any satisfactory answer, was ordered, on the 4th of December, to quit the governor-general's camp at Umbala, and return to the Punjaub.

After the Vakeel's departure, Sir Henry Hardinge continued to advance peaceably towards the frontier, visiting the protected Sikh states; nor were orders issued for the movement of any portion of the army until the 8th of December, which order did not reach army head-quarters before the 10th of that month.

Sir Henry, in common with the primates in office, had unhappily so far misjudged the Sikh character, as to suppose it was the intention both of their government and soldiery to provoke, but not to commit, hostilities.[18] The attitude and operations of the enemy, when once the war broke out, evidently displayed the aggressive policy which guided their efforts. One cause of ill-feeling engendered in the Punjaub against the British Government, may be traced to a journal published in the north-western provinces of India, whose inflammatory articles had long-pointed out the Punjaub as a worthy object of cupidity, and such sentiments, when circulated amongst the proud and suspicious Sikhs, were doubtless mistaken for an exposition of the views of Government, and must have gone far to stir the national jealousy.

When the Sikh forces had actually quitted Lahore in progress to the Sutlej, there could remain no doubt of the object of their march, however sceptical many might be of the continuation of their humour; and had it then been decided to move the Merut force[19] towards the frontier, the features of the subsequent operations must have undergone a material change by such an accession of strength, and especially of cavalry, of which there was a sad deficiency. In lieu of being moved on the 26th of November, the main column of that force did not quit cantonments until the 16th of December, only two days before the action fought at Moodkee. In the governor-general's dispatch, it is stated that all troops destined for service on the frontier had marched by the 12th of December. Sir John Grey's division of the army were not all on the line of march before the 16th, as before stated.

When the Sikhs had moved six brigades towards the Sutlej, on the 25th of November, the most prudent and fastidious of the peace party could not have reasonably objected to the advance of the reserve to Kurnal, which would have brought them eighty miles nearer the scene of action, and within three or four days reach of Umbala.

The force at army head-quarters having moved, pursuant to orders, under the personal command of his Excellency Sir Hugh Gough, on the 11th and 12th of December, all doubt of the requisition of their services was cleared up on the 13th, by receipt of intelligence at the governor-general's camp, that the Sikhs, who had been assembled in great force, for some days, at Hureeka ford, about twenty miles above Ferozepore, had at length commenced the passage of the Sutlej. For two or three days previously to their crossing, their hostile spirit was fully evinced, by firing upon our reconnoitring parties from Ferozepore.

Sir John Littler, who was in command at Ferozepore, immediately occupied a defensive position, but was not in sufficient force to oppose the passage of so numerous an army as the Sikhs displayed, and amply provided with heavy artillery to cover their landing.

It was fortunate that this important news reached head-quarters so safely and expeditiously; for thenceforth a long farewell was taken of all communication between the provinces and the interesting field of operations on the north-west frontier.

On hearing that the enemy had actually invaded our territories, Sir Henry Hardinge hastened with the small force at Loodiana[20] to form a junction with Sir Hugh Gough, near Bussean, and issued a proclamation, calling on the chiefs in the protected Sikh states to be quiet and faithful, whilst the British army hastened to encounter and chastise their treacherous invaders.

The junction between the Umbala and Loodiana forces was effected without interruption; and all heavy baggage with the force having been deposited at Bussean, where a large depôt for commissariat supplies had been established, in case of the army being called into the field, the forces hastily advanced towards Ferozepore to encounter the enemy.

Worn and harassed by forced marches,[21] and a constant scarcity of water, the united forces, under the command of Sir Hugh Gough, advanced, on the morning of the 18th of December, towards the fortified village of Moodkee, pressing forward "with hot haste," lest the heart of the Sikhs should fail them, and no fight take place. At least, such appears to have been the object of these forced marches, for it is distinctly asserted that Ferozepore was not considered in any danger, as the fort could hold out for an indefinite time, and the town and cantonment could not have been entitled to more consideration than was bestowed on poor forsaken Loodiana.

On the memorable 18th of December, the cavalry and horse artillery reached the village of Moodkee, about one P.M., after a severe march of twenty-one miles, the greater portion of the infantry being still a considerable distance in the rear, and, of course, much fatigued.

The cavalry pickets were moving to their posts soon after arrival, as usual, when clouds of dust were discerned through the jungle, which announced the approach of the enemy. Previously to arrival at Moodkee, a small reconnoitring party of horse had been descried, who fell back forthwith; but the enemy had scoured the whole country in the morning, with their cavalry, and taken an officer prisoner,[22] and the probable time of arrival had been well calculated. Major Broadfoot, whose experience of native warfare had been gleaned amongst the rugged defiles of Afghanistan, where his gallantry and intelligence had earned him an undying fame, was firmly convinced of the enemy's vicinity, and had some hours before intimated his belief: but doubts were still entertained.

Moodkee is a small compact fort, situated on a mound commanding the country, which is open and sandy for a circle of about three quarters of a mile radius, taking the fort as a centre; thence, the country becomes close, with stunted trees and bushes at a few yards interval from each other, affording excellent shelter for irregular troops, but mainly obstructing operations of regular cavalry, or bodies moving in compact order from manœuvring with precision.

When the alarm of the Sikhs' approach reached camp, the cavalry and horse artillery moved forward towards the jungle, and the infantry, as each brigade arrived within reach of the scene of operation, hastened to take part in the fray.

The enemy, whose numbers and intentions were effectually masked by the nature of the ground which he occupied, opened a heavy fire of artillery, which crashed through the jungle with serious effect upon the advancing column, who received the deadly blows without perceiving whence the missives proceeded.

Our light guns were brought rapidly into play; but the advantage of position was with the Sikhs, added to which, they came fresh into the field. The struggle under these disadvantages threatened to be severe.

As each of the brigades of infantry endeavoured to fall into its place in advancing, they found themselves so much impeded by the number of stunted trees, that it was difficult to ascertain their relative positions or to form with their accustomed regularity, whilst the Sikh cavalry, hovering in the vicinity, threatened momentarily to charge.

The infantry, being ordered to deploy, effected that movement with as much regularity as the ground permitted, whilst the cavalry were directed to attack and turn the Sikh flanks, and to disperse the hordes of Goorcheras[23] who infested the jungle. The gallant 3rd Dragoons, sweeping the Goorcheras from before them, penetrated the heavy covert, and, riding through the Sikh artillery, silenced their fire for a time; but the enemy's matchlock men, from behind the hillocks and bushes, and many of them perched amongst the branches of the low trees, whence they could act with impunity, inflicted a severe loss on the Dragoons. When this fact was ascertained, the pistol and carbine were brought into play with some effect on these jungle fowl, but many a gallant fellow was stretched on the ground in this unequal contest.

The Sikh artillery, having again opened fire, continued to tell with murderous effect, and did material damage to our Light Artillery, whose horses, wearied with a long march, were not in the best condition for hard work.

Meanwhile, our infantry, having approached the Sikh position, poured in a steady rolling fire, which was, however, as steadily met, whilst the grape-shot from their battery in the centre caused fearful gaps amongst the British ranks.

The enemy, under cover of the hillocks and thick patches of jungle, maintained his post with the utmost resolution, whilst the declining light favoured this mode of warfare on the part of the Sikhs. Our troops continued gradually to advance, whilst the enemy, falling back, and having abandoned his heaviest battery, was not disposed to await the issue of the bayonet, when the choice rested on his side.

A bright December's evening enabled the contending parties faintly to distinguish each other's outline, but the Sikhs had now suffered severely; and, having failed in their main object of surprise, Lal Singh conveyed the orders to his troops to retire. The enemy therefore abandoned the field to the British, having been compelled to suffer a loss of fifteen guns and to cast others into the wells in the village in rear of his position.

When it was ascertained that the Sikhs had finally retired, the men rested themselves for the first time during that toilsome and eventful day; but bodily fatigue was a trifling evil when compared with the parching thirst from which all had long suffered, and from which there was yet no relief. But if those who escaped unharmed had undergone incredible hardships, the agonies of the wounded can scarcely be conjectured, as only partial relief could be afforded amongst the crowds of sufferers.

The enemy having made no demonstrations of renewing the attack, the troops were withdrawn, about midnight, to their encampments at Moodkee.

The forces engaged on the British side, during this action, amounted to something less than ten thousand men and forty-five guns. The return of losses gives two hundred and fifteen killed and six hundred and fifty seven wounded.

The enemy's force encountered at Moodkee was estimated, in the despatches, at fifteen thousand Infantry, as many cavalry, and forty guns.[24] Of course it is necessary to form some estimate of the enemy's force on such occasions; but though always a difficult operation with regard to native armies, in this instance it could be no more than mere conjecture, for the jungle prevented the chance of giving anything resembling an accurate judgment.

The enemy's loss was never ascertained; but, judging from the bodies scattered over the country, the number of killed may be set down at about three hundred. Their wounded were carried to Ferozeshuhur and the villages in the neighbouring country, so that the Sikhs themselves were, doubtless, never aware of the actual amount.

Amongst the officers who fell in this action was the gallant Sir Robert Sale, whose leg was shattered by a grape shot. The shock proved fatal to him in the course of the night of the 18th.

Ever foremost in the numerous actions in which he was engaged, it is only a matter of wonder that so fearless a soldier should so long have been spared. The battle-field was his element; and had the fates permitted him to select his last resting-place, he would have asked no other than the path of victory, beneath which he sleeps. The combined roar of eighty pieces of cannon saluted the parting spirit of the hero of Jellalabad on the field of strife; and though his remains rest on the far-distant eastern plains which have witnessed his warlike achievements, yet will his name descend to posterity bright in the ranks of England's departed heroes.

Sir Hugh Gough heartily congratulated the troops on their gallantry. Such an eulogium is valuable, coming from a veteran, whose undaunted bearing and personal example (on every occasion in the front, or "where death came thickest,") was the universal theme of applause in the army.

When we consider the position and the circumstances under which the action was fought, the principal difficulty that presents itself for explanation is the extreme alacrity manifested to commence the engagement before the whole army was prepared. It has long been the practice in India to hasten forward under all disadvantages, and attack an enemy when once within reach; but, although this system has often been successfully practised, under the impression that such active and bold measures inspire confidence and daring amongst our native army, it becomes a critical experiment when brought into play with a more enterprising foe.

After crossing the Sutlej, the Sikhs, leaving a small force to watch Ferozepore, advanced more than twelve miles into our territories, and occupied a position, which they speedily entrenched, at Ferozeshuhur. From the latter place a division of their army was detached to Moodkee, with the evident intention of surprising the Governor-general's camp, after a long march.

On the arrival of the Governor-general at Bussean, it is probable that the enemy's spies gave intelligence of the Loodiana force being at Bussean with the Governor-general; and the enemy, unaware of the junction which had been arranged with Sir Hugh Gough, conceived that when the force advanced to Moodkee a master-stroke might be effected, at the outset of the war, by surprising and capturing Sir Henry Hardinge, and destroying the force which accompanied his excellency as an escort. Had they imagined that the main body of the army were advancing on Moodkee, the enemy would surely have attached a larger force of artillery, on which arm, as before stated, they place their main confidence.

At two P.M. on the day of the battle—viz., at the time our troops turned out to attack, the cavalry and artillery had just arrived, much jaded after their long march, and the infantry brigades had not all arrived, but received their orders whilst on the line of march, to hasten forward with all possible speed, and take up their posts on the field of action. On riding over the ground, some time after the action was fought, it appeared to me that the fortified village of Moodkee would have afforded an admirable position to be occupied by such portion of the wearied infantry and artillery, as had arrived on the ground; and their numbers would have been concealed from the enemy. This would have afforded them rest, and water, of which there was an abundance around the village; and our cavalry pickets, falling back, would have drawn the enemy most probably upon the open ground, which he had then nearly reached; and, being emboldened by perceiving few of the British forces, and those not advancing, is it not reasonable to conclude that he would have become the assailant? Had the Sikhs attacked us while so posted, the force in Moodkee might have engaged the attention of the enemy, whilst our cavalry and rear brigades of infantry, by making a trifling detour in the jungle, would have taken the Sikh forces in reverse, and probably given them more cause to regret their advance from Ferozeshuhur than as matters actually befel.

Had the Sikhs not attacked when our cavalry pickets retired upon Moodkee, our forces would have been fresh, and better prepared for action the following morning; and the 19th of December ought to have yielded more favourable results, under such circumstances, than the 18th.

Taking, as a third supposition, that the Sikh force would have fallen back during the night on their main column at Ferozeshuhur, the conclusion is, that there would have been no battle of Moodkee, and that Ferozeshuhur might have been fought on the 20th, in lieu of the 21st and 22nd of December, in neither of which cases can I see any ground for supposing that our interests would have suffered.

I have heard it suggested, that if the enemy had not been engaged at Moodkee, there was a probability of his turning our flank, and threatening the provinces; if such had been his intention, it is probable that he would have taken another line of country, and not the road by which our forces were advancing, for the country affords anywhere a ready passage for troops, and they are not confined to any particular track, as in inclosed countries.

RETURN OF KILLED AND WOUNDED IN THE ACTION OF MOODKEE, DEC. 18, 1845.

RETURN OF ORDNANCE CAPTURED AT MOODKEE.

It was impossible to compute the metal in these guns; but it was evident they were heavier than those of similar calibre in the Bengal artillery.

The carriages all in good repair, except one or two, struck by our shot. The whole were destroyed, and the guns left at Moodkee.

Four guns, reported to have been dismounted, and left on the ground by the men of the Horse Artillery, for want of means to bring them away.

(Signed) G. Brooke,
Brigadier, Artillery.

FOOTNOTES:

[16] H.M. 39th. The 61st Regiment landed in December, and were immediately ordered up the country.

[17] Governor-General to the Secret Committee. Letter No. 9.

[18] Vide Governor-General's Minute, dated, "Camp, Umbala, Dec. 4, 1845."

[19] H.M.'s 9th Lancers were actually moved about this time, by mistake, but, three days afterwards, were counter-marched to Merut again, the commander-in-chief's measures being cancelled. Sir H. Gough's letter to Major Broadfoot, Nov. 20, 1845.

[20] The few men incapable of severe duty were left in the fort of Loodiana. The cantonments were unoccupied.

[21] Some petty chiefs manifested their hostility by shutting their gates and refusing supplies, but were speedily brought to submission.

[22] Captain Biddulph, who was taken prisoner at Moodkee, was restored, two days after the battle, having undergone great hardships.

[23] Sikh irregular horse.

[24] I was informed, at Lahore, that their whole force at Moodkee was under twenty thousand men; but it was only the bare assertion of a Sikh officer, and may be taken at its value.

[CHAPTER V.]

THE ARMY ADVANCE TO ATTACK THE SIKHS IN THEIR ENTRENCHED CAMP AT FEROZESHUHUR—THE ACTIONS OF THE 21ST AND 22ND OF DECEMBER—SIKHS RETREAT BEHIND THE SUTLEJ—OBSERVATIONS.

On the morning of the 19th, intelligence was brought by the spies that the whole forces of the Sikhs had resolved upon advancing to attack the British army at Moodkee. Preparations were made to receive them, and a more advantageous post than that of the former day was taken up, to act on the defensive, as reinforcements were hourly expected.

The spies' reports proved false, as is not unfrequently the case in Indian warfare, and on the night of the 19th, the arrival of H.M. 29th Regiment, and the Company's 1st European Regiment, from their hill cantonments, was welcomed with much satisfaction.

The 20th of December was given to the army to recruit their strength, after the toil they had endured, and to prepare for the approaching struggle.

Authentic accounts having been received of the enemy being in position at Ferozeshuhur, about nine miles from Moodkee, and twelve from Ferozepore, and on the direct line of communication between those places, orders were sent to Sir John Littler, commanding at Ferozepore, to move out, with his division, from cantonments, and unite with the main column in the attack on the enemy planned for the following day.

Early on the morning of the 21st of December, the British forces advanced from Moodkee, having left the wounded in charge of a small party in the fort, and marching slowly in order of battle, moved obliquely from the enemy's position towards Ferozepore. Having marched across about fifteen miles of country, covered mostly with the same stunted trees as at Moodkee, and in other places with a sandy soil, on which grain and wheat had been planted, Sir John Littler's division was descried advancing about one in the afternoon.

Sir John Littler having left two regiments of Native Infantry to protect Ferozepore, and eluded the vigilance of the enemy's cavalry, who were posted to watch his division, effected a junction with the main column unmolested by the enemy.

The position of Ferozeshuhur was then hastily reconnoitred. The Sikh camp, consisting of a dense and confused mass of tents, encompassed the village of Ferozeshuhur, which occupied a rising ground, and was armed with batteries of heavy guns. The entrenchments, which had been thrown forward to cover the village, were an irregular quadrangular figure, of upwards of eighteen hundred yards in length, and rather more than half that distance in breadth, and consisted of a ditch, about four feet in depth and from six to seven in breadth, the deblai earth from which formed a parapet, protecting the defenders from fire of grape or musketry. Batteries of the enemy's lighter guns were disposed at intervals in rear of the parapets, where the ground was uniformly flat, save in the centre of the position, where it rose gradually into the mound, covered by the mud-houses of the village, as before mentioned.

In front of the entrenchment, every obstacle to the range of fire had been removed, and a plain, mostly bare, or producing scanty crops, presented no shelter for the assailants; such trees or shrubs as might have afforded any cover, having been lopped or cleared away by the enemy.

The village of Ferozeshuhur is situated on the road between Moodkee and Ferozepore, but the road is rarely a matter of much consideration in military operations in India, where the country is usually flat, and unobstructed by fences.

It was past four in the afternoon when the British forces advanced to storm this position, defended, as it was conjectured, by an army of more than fifty thousand Sikhs. The investing force, numbering altogether about sixteen thousand five hundred men, with sixty-six pieces of artillery, (six and nine-pounders, twelve and twenty-four-pound howitzers, and two eight-inch mortars,) were formed in two lines; the first consisted of Generals Gilbert and Littler's divisions, and Col. Wallace's brigade, with the principal force of artillery in the centre, and one troop of horse artillery on each flank.

The reserve force, comprising the division of Sir Harry Smith, the cavalry, and a troop of horse artillery, formed a second line.

Sir Hugh Gough personally directed the operations of the right, and Sir Henry Hardinge, who had volunteered his services, as second in command, superintended the movements on the left.

When at a distance of about eleven hundred yards from the works, the oppressive silence was broken by the voice of our mortars hurling their loads of hissing iron through the air. The enemy's batteries opened forthwith, and soon enveloped the works in smoke. The light field batteries now began their part in the fray, at a distance of about eight hundred yards, to cover the advance, and shortly afterwards the whole of our artillery opened at a nearer range; but the Sikh fire told with deadly effect, and many of the British light guns were disabled, even before they were unlimbered. It soon became evident that the Sikhs had the range of their batteries accurately measured, and that our light guns were unable to cope with the enemy's artillery, which being of very heavy metal, though not of large calibre, they were enabled to use double charges of powder, grape, and round shot.

Under cover of the clouds and dust which wrapped the scene of contention, our line of infantry continued to advance, and the commander-in-chief, perceiving that the contest could only be decided by a hand to hand struggle, ordered the entrenchments to be stormed with the bayonet.

One incessant stream of fire continued to issue from the canopy of smoke which enveloped the works, and the deadly breaks in each regiment told with what murderous effect the enemy served his batteries; yet their assailants, though broken and checked, still approached the entrenchments with invincible resolution; but now, from behind the batteries, poured forth a rolling shower of musketry, which seemed to threaten utter annihilation to the daring and exposed force of Britons, now reduced from brigades to regiments.

Night was fast approaching; the Sikh army continued to pour death into our ranks, and received the roll of our musketry, under cover of their trenches, with comparative impunity.

With that unconquerable determination which has marked the British soldier in the hour of direst carnage, that gallant band rushed onwards, seeking only to close in hand to hand conflict with their galling antagonists, through the iron shower which tore their ranks at every step, checked only where death had made so wide a gap, that time was required to fill the deadly intervals, and give breath to the survivors.

At one point, on the left of the attacking line, where Sir John Littler's division was engaged, the incessant stream of fire from the batteries, and the rain of musketry from behind them, was such, that one British regiment (the 62nd) was nearly destroyed.[25] One-third of the regiment were stretched on the field, when the brigadier, seeing the utter hopelessness of carrying the enemy's strongest battery, defended by thousands of musketeers, with the shattered remainder of the 62nd, which had been left to do the work single-handed, gave orders to retire.

On the centre and right the attack was more successful, the enemy's entrenchments being penetrated, after a desperate struggle, at several points, by General Gilbert's and Colonel Wallace's attack; but so intermixed were the combatants, and so stunning was the din of battle around the entrenchments, which were enveloped in impenetrable clouds of smoke and dust, that it was impossible for the leaders to ascertain the success or even the position of other brigades. Cheering on his men, and just surmounting the enemy's entrenchments, fell Colonel Taylor, at the head of his regiment, the gallant 9th, which he had led so often to victory, but never before under such a fire as poured from the trenches of Ferozeshuhur.

Chafing under the obstinate resistance of the enemy, the rash Broadfoot, with his characteristic contempt of danger, charged, single-handed, one of the enemy's howitzers with countless defenders, and fell at its mouth.

Sir Hugh Gough and Sir Henry Hardinge were ever with the foremost in the fight, cheering all to renewed exertions, and affording personal examples of contempt for danger which were gloriously followed by their dauntless comrades.

Three batteries were captured, and on those points the enemy fell back from their entrenchments; but from the village and the inner trenches on the flanks still streamed forth the iron shower, rendered less deadly by the obscurity of evening. In the meantime, the reserve, under Sir Harry Smith, had forced their way through every obstacle, and, having penetrated the entrenchments, established themselves in the village, unaware of the post of the remainder of the army; but there, in the midst of the enemy's lines, stood the banners of the glorious fiftieth.

Hoping that yet, ere night had fallen, the Sikhs might be driven from all their entrenchments, an order was issued for Colonel White's brigade of cavalry to charge the daring front which was still presented for defence. With alacrity was the order obeyed, and the exhausted British infantry rested for an interval on their arms, whilst a rushing sound, as of a suddenly bursting tempest, was heard approaching the fray, and onwards came H.M. 3rd Light Dragoons to the charge. The entrenchments and the batteries were equally futile obstacles to oppose those gallant cavaliers, though the former brought many a horse and rider to the ground, and the latter tore a deadly gap through their ranks. Onwards poured the glittering squadrons, in spite of all resistance, over the entrenchments, past the batteries, through the very heart of the enemy's camp, the Sikhs falling back bewildered at this unexpected mode of warfare.

Though paralyzed for a time by the strange onslaught of these bold horsemen charging for a second time resolutely into the midst of their army, yet the Sikhs, recovering from their surprise, began to pour a destructive fire of musketry amongst the Dragoons,[26] who had been much scattered, owing to the ground over which they had charged; and, as each saddle was emptied, countless knives and tolwars awaited the ill-fated soldier who was dismounted.

Having ridden throughout the enemy's lines, and being much broken and thinned in numbers, they now charged back again, though scarcely bringing two thirds of their numbers unwounded out of the enemy's lines.

One officer, Lieut. Burton, having lost his charger amongst hordes of the enemy, and sought hopelessly for another, perceived a party of dragoons close to him, and, seizing the tail of a horse, was dragged by him at full speed through the camp, until, on arriving at the entrenchments, the trooper, bounding over the ditch, dashed the officer with such violence against the counterscarp that he lost the hold he had so desperately retained, but still lives to confirm the tale.[27]

Darkness now caused the fire on each side to slacken, part of the enemy's camp and field works being in our possession, whilst the Sikhs continued to hold the remainder; but darkness brought no rest to the brave and wearied soldier; for the enemy's expense magazines continued to explode in various parts of the works, the slow matches or burning cartridges falling amongst them, and several were blown up or scorched thereby. The main column of our troops were, in consequence of these disasters, ordered to withdraw outside the trenches, where they lay amongst the bodies of their dead and dying comrades, worn out with their almost unremitted exertions; faint from hunger, but, worse than all, parched with intolerable thirst, as few of the water-carriers who accompany an Indian army on active service had ventured to the ground where the Britons lay during that awful night.

The enemy had no intention of allowing the time to pass unprofitably while darkness prevailed, but, on ascertaining the position occupied by our soldiers outside the entrenchments, they sent spies who indicated the direction by tinkling a bell and running off, or by affixing a blue light to a stick, which was placed in the ground and lighted to serve as a direction for the Sikh guns, which forthwith opened a galling fire. One cannon of heavy metal was plied with such effect that H.M. 80th Regiment, and 1st Europeans were ordered to advance and take it, which duty they speedily accomplished.

The night of the 21st of December, naturally the longest of the year, seemed almost an eternity to the wearied "army of the Sutlej," and unhappily proved so to many, for the Sikhs lost no opportunity of inflicting injury.

The thirst which afflicted many was so oppressive, that it overcame all other considerations, and many of the soldiers strayed in search of water towards the village, heedless of the vicinity of the enemy.

A portion of Sir Harry Smith's division, which had occupied the village in the entrenchments, remained a great part of the night in that post, darkness preventing them from ascertaining the position occupied by the remainder of the army. In the pell-mell assault, regiment had become so intermixed with regiment, that it is difficult to particularize the exploits of an individual corps, as a portion of some other, in all probability, bore a share of the labour.

In the course of the night Sir Harry Smith's division withdrew from their advanced post, and, being unable to discover the commander-in-chief's column, retired to a village at about a mile and a half's distance from the trenches.

Sir John Littler's division was also unsuccessful in finding head-quarters during this awful night of errors, nor did either of these divisions reach the main column of the army till they had renewed the attack on the following morning.

The dawn of day on the 22nd of December served to restore some order amongst the troops, and to discover the enemy still occupying the entrenchments. The British soldier was again called to action, sinking with hunger, thirst, and toil, and responded to that call on which hung the fate of the British empire in India, with untiring devotion. A line was formed of our shattered forces, and Sir Hugh Gough, animating all around him by his zeal and example, pressed forwards to clear the entrenchments, and again began the work of death.

The enemy's position, the whole of which was again manned, was for the second time stormed by the British infantry; but, as they were assailed now from a nearer range, the struggle was on more favourable terms, though the overpowering numbers of the enemy rendered his losses comparatively trifling, whilst ours was most severe, considering the small band of warriors now opposed to the foe. The Sikh dead, intermixed with our own, strewed the face of the soil, and the footing of the combatants was slippery with blood. Never had so resolute an enemy opposed the British arms in India, and never had the aspect of British interests in the East rested on so slender a thread. But the Sikh powers of endurance had reached their limit; and, deeming the British indomitable, they fell back, leaving their camp and guns in the hands of the victors. Pressing forward upon the retiring enemy, the British line swept the Sikh soldiery from the whole position, and rested on the Sutlej front of the works.

The resolution and courage of the British troops had probably never undergone a more severe test than on the field of Ferozeshuhur, and when victory at length appeared to have crowned their efforts, a heartfelt cheer burst from the ranks. No thoughts were entertained of pursuing the enemy, for both strength and ammunition were expended.

Congratulations on the ultimate success of the day went round amongst the victors as they rested on their arms; and perhaps the sudden and successful result was hailed by none with more sense of thankfulness than by the two chiefs of the army.

But this satisfaction was destined to be of short duration; for scarce two hours had elapsed after the retreat, when the enemy were seen advancing again. The British troops were eagerly searching for water in the blood-stained village of Ferozeshuhur, having piled their arms outside, when the alarm was given of the enemy's advance. The column which now approached was ascertained to be the reserve force under Tej Singh, consisting principally of cavalry and horse artillery, with some of the Aeen battalions; this force had advanced from their position near the river, to take part in the fray, and were estimated at about twenty-five thousand strong.

Again burst the storm of artillery over our army, and apparently with a sure prospect of success for the enemy; for our guns were all crippled, the ammunition was exhausted, and the troops now advancing to attack were fresh, and doubtless well provided with all material for action.

There remained now only the prospect of allowing as many of the enemy's missiles to fly over the soldiers' heads as would take that desirable course, and to bring the matter as speedily as possible to the final issue of a hand to hand struggle. This the enemy also seemed resolved to expedite; for having altered his front of attack, he appeared desirous of turning the left of the British, and intercepting all retreat, while the main attack was directed on the village.