This was a most important measure to the comfort of the people and the

commerce of the country. The government was logically and politically

right; and the Whigs left the impression upon the country, by the bill

itself, and the arguments by which they conducted it through the

house, that they had been of late successful students in the important

department of economics. A considerable stir among the wealthy and

influential body of English citizens, the Society of Friends, was

created, by the support which Mr. Bright, Mr. Crewdson, and others of

the Quakers of the north of England, gave to the sugar bill. The body

at large considered that support inconsistent with their professed

principles. Mr. Bright, and those who took his views, eloquently

defended themselves against the criticisms of the Friends, and Mr.

George Thompson, the celebrated anti-slavery lecturer, espoused their

cause with great ardour. Mr. Bright and his fellow-labourers of the

Quaker persuasion were in a minority. The great body of the Friends

disapproved of his conduct, and the old anti-slavery party throughout

the country joined in the disapprobation. Mr. Bright was not a man to

be deterred by friends or foes from pursuing a course which he thought

right, and he persisted in giving to the government a very hearty and

efficient support. The Manchester school accepted the bill with great

favour, and upheld the ministry in carrying it. Large assemblages were

convened in Manchester and the manufacturing districts, but especially

in South Lancashire, Cheshire and Staffordshire, on behalf of

the measure, and the various chambers of commerce and commercial

associations passed resolutions or sent petitions in its favour. It was

a good beginning for Lord John as premier, and conduced to the tenure of

office which he was enabled to maintain.

THE CONDITION OF IRELAND.—DISTURBED STATE OF THE COUNTRY.—DISAFFECTION

OF THE POPULACE.—FAILURE OF THE POTATOE CROP.—DISTRESS.—AGITATION BY

THE YOUNG IRELANDERS.—DECLINE OF O’CONNELL.

Some notice has been taken of the condition of Ireland as leading to the

dissolution of the Peel ministry. It is appropriate to resume here the

thread of Irish history. The affairs of that country, politically and

socially, became rapidly worse. From day to day the people of England

were startled with tidings of fierce conflicts which faction waged, the

disloyalty of the great majority of the people, the relentless cruelty

with which the Ribbon Society exacted its victims, and the continued

pressure of famine and sickness upon the physical life of the people.

Ireland, so long conversant with misery, was still to taste the cup in

all its bitterness. Everything meant for her good by the legislature

brought with it some new form of evil, or aggravated some that existed.

She had sought and obtained emancipation, but while her arms wore no

longer a manacle, she still clanked her broken chain, and with it smote

her benefactors or wounded herself. The removal of restrictions from

commerce, effected by Sir Robert Peel, she regarded as an injury; the

majority of Irishmen believed that the repeal of the corn laws was

designed to enrich England at the expense of Ireland, and that it

was the most fatal blow ever given to her agricultural and commercial

prosperity. There were many enlightened Irishmen who advocated the

repeal of the laws which made the food of the people dear;—of seven

men who met in Manchester to form the anti-corn-law association, out of

which sprang “the League,” at least two were Irishmen. Perhaps the man

to whom that cause was originally indebted, more than to any other, was

Archibald Prentice of the city just named, a native of Scotland; but

among his earliest and most earnest coadjutors were Irishmen. The

merchants of the three principal cities in Ireland—Dublin, Cork,

and Belfast—favoured Sir Robert Peel’s law, especially those of

the enlightened and enterprising town last named; but the Irish

agriculturists, and the inhabitants of the country generally, resented

it as a new Irish grievance! Lord George Bentinck did not misrepresent

the feeling of the Irish people towards the free-trade movement, when he

claimed the country, with some exceptions only, as on his side. Even the

educational boon, so recently accorded by parliament, was regarded as

a religious affront. “The Queen’s colleges” were denounced by Mr.

O’Connell and the priests as “godless colleges.” In parliament he

opposed, in Ireland he vituperated it.

A new phase of mischief gradually ripened during the year 1846.

O’Connell had taught the people habits of political organisation,

and while he had so wielded the masses thus organised as to prevent

insurrection, he kept the government in continual alarm, lest some

sudden outbreak should rend society and deluge the country with

blood. The “agitator” professed to hold the doctrine of moral force in

opposition to physical force; but while he proclaimed that the liberties

of Ireland were “not worth the shedding of one drop of blood,” and in

long letters and speeches declared that whoever committed crime was his

enemy, and the enemy of Irish freedom, he palliated those crimes, when

committed, defended the criminals, shifted the blame to the Protestants,

the local authorities, the government, the law, or the Saxon; and so

wrote and spoke as was calculated to lead the perpetrators of outrage

to regard themselves as having an excuse for their crimes, in their

own condition or that of their country. The general feeling of the

disaffected in reference to Mr. O’Connell’s exhortations of peace was,

that he was only sincere so far as expediency dictated; that he had no

other objection to physical force than his conviction that the prospects

of success did not warrant recourse to it. Accordingly, whilst a great

display was made of carrying out his “moral force” policy, and his

“pacificators” were the ostensible preservers of the peace,—taking the

credit themselves, or claiming it for their chief, of preventing an open

insurrection,—murder, incendiarism, assault, and religious persecution

were carried out in detail. When any were arraigned, no scruples were

entertained as to the means by which conviction might be prevented;

perjury, intimidation, and assassination were among these

instrumentalities. When convicted, the criminal was regarded as

suffering for his religion and country, although the crime for which he

was condemned was some cruel and cowardly assassination, or attempt

to commit such. “The liberal press,” as the newspapers devoted to the

agitation were designated, was filled with extenuations or denials of

the culprit’s guilt, and the most vengeful attacks were made upon all

who sought to enforce the laws, and preserve peace and life from the

ruffian hands of the Ribbonmen, and “the moral force agitators.” Lord

John Russell has often resorted to _finesse_ in his parliamentary

tactics which has not always done him honour, but he never erred in this

respect more egregiously than when, withdrawing the Irish arms bill, he

reported that the law had its unimpeded course, that juries did their

duty, and that crime was effectually restrained. So far from juries

doing their duty, it was difficult in the provinces to obtain

convictions, where a portion of the jury were O’Connellites, if the

person before them was arraigned for an agrarian offence, or an

outrage against the persons of those who were loyal. Neither Whigs, nor

Protestants who were politicians of a school yet more free, nor liberal

Roman Catholics who respected the law, or enforced their rights as

landlords, were spared by the secret societies, any more than the most

rabid Tories or the most flaming Orangemen. A reign of terror prevailed

through the country; the perpetrators of outrage were everywhere, and

the popular masses sympathised with them. An illustration of the state

of things then prevailing was afforded in the following paragraph from

the _Illustrated London News_ of the 21st of February, 1846:—

“On Friday (last week) Bryan Seery was executed at Mullingar. The

conviction took place under the following circumstances:—Some time

since Sir Francis Hopkins was shot at by a man in Westmeath; Sir Francis

tried to seize the assassin, but he escaped; and afterwards Seery was

captured. The sole witness to the prisoner’s identity with the assassin

was the prosecutor: the defence was the common Irish defence—_alibi_,

which was of course sworn to stoutly, as it always is in Ireland. One

jury could not agree to the verdict, two Roman Catholics standing out

against conviction: a second jury condemned the man: efforts to procure

commutation of his sentence failed, and he was left for execution.

Seery, at the place of execution, solemnly denied his guilt. A

circumstance highly characteristic of the feeling of the public

occurred. The morning was calm—the sounding of bugles and peeling of

drums were heard in all directions: there was a perfect cessation of

business in the town. About ten o’clock all the shops were closed,

and not a single human being was to be seen in the streets—not one

individual came in from the country. Thus the people determined to mark

their opinion of this awful tragedy, for all regard Seery as a martyr.

At eleven o’clock the military were paraded before the gaol, and not one

human being appeared before the scaffold but themselves and the

police. Even the magistrates of the county stayed away—not one of

them appeared, except Mr. Uniacke, who walked up and down with Captain

Despard. Under the imposing head of the ‘Mullingar Tragedy,’ the

reporter of the _Dublin Freeman_ furnishes that journal with a long and

highly-coloured account of the interment of Bryan Seery. The melancholy

spectacle took place on Sunday, in the presence of vast multitudes of

the country people, whose numbers were estimated by the writer to amount

to fifty thousand or sixty thousand souls.”

On other occasions the populace attended the execution of criminals in

large numbers, and exhibited their sympathy by demonstrations of respect

and of regret for their fate, speaking of them as “the blessed martyrs”

for their religion, or their country, or both. An execution took place

at Nenagh, in the county of Tipperary, early in June, which was thus

noticed in a paper, neither unfavourable to the rights of the people,

nor the exercise of the utmost clemency on the part of the government

towards the misguided:—“Three men were executed at Nenagh on Friday

(last week), pursuant to their sentences; two—namely, Patrick Hayes and

Patrick Rice—for conspiring to murder the late Mr. Patrick Clarke; and

one, named William Fogarty—for shooting at Mr. M’Donald, a steward in

the slate quarries. An immense multitude collected to witness the scene.

The three men were accompanied to the drop by Roman Catholic clergymen.

They died after a brief struggle, having made no public confession of

their crimes. A large police force of one hundred and fifty men, and a

company of the 72nd depot, comprised the guard in attendance. All was

quiet and peaceable, says a local paper, and nothing heard but the

moanings of the friends of the culprits. After the usual time of

hanging, the bodies were lowered into coffins, and given to the

relations. The long respite obtained by these men whilst various points

of law were urged in their favour, gave much additional interest to

their cases.”

Executions did not, however, extinguish the prevalence of crime, nor

were the precautions of the executive sufficient to wrest the weapon

from the murderous hand. A Galway paper, in “the liberal interest,”

recorded a murder near the junction of that county with the county of

Clare, immediately after the execution at Nenagh, and various others of

a similar character throughout the country. This atrocity was very much

in character with those which disgraced the whole south and west of

Ireland, and which, to a less extent, took place in the north and

north-eastern portions of the land:—“We regret to state that, on the

night of Thursday (last week), a barbarous murder was committed at a

village near Woodford, in this county. The unfortunate object of the

assassin’s vengeance was a man named Pat Hill. Two persons came into

his house, and brought him out of his bed to a place about forty yards

distant, and there inflicted no less than forty-two bayonet wounds

on his person, besides a fracture of the skull. His wife, hearing his

screams, went to his assistance, and, having begged for mercy, she was

told by the heartless ruffians that if she did not go away, she would

herself be treated in a like manner. Having completed their purpose,

the miscreants, who are unknown, walked off, and their victim almost

immediately expired. An inquest was held at Portumna, when a verdict of

‘Wilful murder’ was returned against persons unknown. Deceased was in

rather comfortable circumstances, and bore a most excellent character.”

While disaffection, secret societies, fanatical intolerance, and

wide-spread personal outrage cursed unhappy Ireland, the failure of the

potato crop intensified every other form of evil to which the country

was subjected. Very early in the year it was obvious to intelligent

observers that the failure of 1845 would be exceeded in 1846. The

distress developed itself very early. In February the Rev. W. B.

Townend, rector of Aghadda, in the diocess of Cloyne, county of Cork,

published a letter, in which he thus described the sufferings and the

prospects of the people:—“In this part of Ireland we are in a frightful

state—the humbler classes are all living on the contaminated potato;

the sides of fields and gardens literally covered with rotten ones,

thrown away. The detail of destruction is endless. That employment

should be wanted for the people, while one-third of Ireland is as

much waste as the woods in Canada, and the rest badly cultivated, not

affording half labour, is a strange anomaly.”

Later in the year the Rev. J. B. Tyrwhitt, an English clergyman of

the Established Church, settled in Keny, published an account of the

sufferings and prospects of the people of the south and west of Munster,

truly appalling. The reverend gentleman wrote in the celebrated Vale

of Iverah, where the O’Connells held property, and exercised an almost

absolute sway:—“The prospects of the people of this very poor barony,

and all along from the River Kenmare, Sneem, Darrynane, to Cahirciveen,

and thence towards Killorglin, is harrowing and startling. The whole

potato crop is literally destroyed, while over a very wide surface the

oat crop presents an unnatural lilac tinge to the eye; at the same

time, in too many instances, the head is found flaccid to the touch, and

possessing no substance. The barley crop, too, in many places, exhibits

the effect of a powerful blight. In some places, also, where turnips

have been grown, they present—as, indeed, has been the case in other

parts of the county—a healthier exterior in top and skin, but, on being

opened, are found deeply impregnated with a taint similar to that which

has smitten the potato, to such an extent, that one cannot stand in the

blackened fields without being overpowered by the offensive effluvia.”

From the county of Clare statements arrived in London, if possible,

more appalling. Early in April pestilence manifested itself in various

places, and the county of Tipperary was disturbed by famine riots,

independent of the normal disturbances which subjected that county to

such misery, and earned for it so terrible a reputation. At Clonmel

food riots assumed a formidable appearance, and the military had to

guard the flour mills. The Roman Catholic clergy exerted themselves

successfully to soothe the minds of the peasantry, and prevent that

increase of their sufferings, which would result from the plunder of

private property. The peasantry of Ireland were not addicted to robbery,

and whatever outrages fanaticism, political and religious, might goad

them to commit, the necessities of their famishing wives and children

alone could cause them to resort to plunder. Thus, at a large and

peaceable meeting of the peasantry in the county of Galway, at the end

of April, they made this declaration:—“If employment be not immediately

given, we can no longer stand the distress under which we are

suffering.” Of course it was necessary to put down tumult and protect

property, and very painful were the duties which in consequence devolved

upon the civil and military power. _Ex uno disce omnes_. At Kilsheelan,

between the counties of Tipperary and Waterford, an occurrence took

place, which was described in the language of one of the leading

journals of the south of Ireland in the following terms:—“On Thursday

morning, in consequence of information received by the magistrates,

they very prudently had cars stationed in the barracks for the

prompt conveyance of the troops in case of necessity; and subsequent

proceedings will show how very judicious and prudent their arrangements

were. In a short time an express arrived in town stating that an

immense mob was plundering the boats at Kilsheelan, within four miles of

Clonmel, and forthwith a party of the 33rd got on the cars and proceeded

to the scene of outrage, together with a party of the 1st Royal

Dragoons, under the command of Major Galloway. Mr. J. Bagwell, Mr. W.

Riall, Major Shaw, and Sub-inspector Fosberry accompanied them, and when

within a short distance of the scene of plunder, word reached them that

the robbery going on was most extensive. Mr. Fosberry and a mounted

policeman immediately galloped on, and when they reached the spot, the

scene which met their view is more easily imagined than described. An

immense multitude were plundering the boats; a vast quantity of Indian

corn, the property of Mr. Going, of Caher, was destroyed or made off

with, and a quantity of wheat, the property of Mr. T. Hughes, was

also stolen and destroyed. The military quickly came up, and a regular

engagement took place. Stones were firing in all directions—several

soldiers were struck; Mr. Fosberry received a blow of a stone in the

leg, and it was not until some time had elapsed that this lawless rabble

were subdued, and thirteen of them taken prisoners and brought into our

gaol. Nothing could exceed the coolness of our magistrates, officers,

and soldiers during this rencontre, and we are happy to say that a

portion of the wheat was retaken.”

Such was the state of Ireland up to the harvest time of 1846, when,

unhappily, all the fears of men, such as have been quoted, and the

predictions of Sir Robert Peel, were fulfilled. There was another

failure of the harvest; the crops of potatoes and oats suffered to

such an extent as to increase, many fold, all the miseries previously

experienced, and the dangers previously apprehended. Five millions,

five hundred thousand tons of potatoes, and five millions two hundred

thousand quarters of oats, below the average, was produced that harvest.

The estimated loss in money, from the deficient produce of the year, was

sixteen millions pounds sterling!

The efforts to mitigate these evils were manifold. Subscriptions were

raised in every part of the British Isles, and, indeed, in every part

of the British empire. From various places on the continent, especially

France, donations were transmitted in either money or food. The Sultan

of Turkey sent a generous contribution to the common stock of relief.

From the United States of America supplies also came. The world might

be represented as laid under contribution to relieve the miseries of

Ireland. The government also made great exertions. Sir Robert Peel’s

administration made secret and extensive purchases of Indian corn, which

were sold, or distributed gratuitously, according to circumstances. By

donations for public works, and “general presentments,” Sir Robert Peel

also prepared for the coming disaster. He had expended in this way more

than eight hundred thousand pounds, a little more than the half of which

had been repaid by rates levied in Ireland under the powers intrusted

to the grand juries. Lord John Russell, soon after he passed his

sugar duties bill, made proposals to parliament calculated to meet

the distress as it then existed, and in some measure to anticipate the

relief which he foresaw would be required. He proposed to empower the

lord-lieutenant to summon sessions of counties and of baronies, to

consider the propriety of making public works for the relief of the

poor, and to give to those sessions, under certain circumstances,

authority to determine upon what works were desirable or necessary,

which the board ot works would upon such decision execute. The imperial

treasury was to make advances for carrying on these works, to be repaid

in ten years at three and a half per cent, interest. Grants of £50,000

each would be made to certain poor districts which would be unable

to repay advances. His lordship moved resolutions embodying these

proposals, which were carried, and a bill founded upon them passed

through both houses with the utmost rapidity. The introduction of these

measures seemed to produce a good effect on Ireland, for crime and

outrage abated. The ministers took advantage of this circumstance to

claim great merit for their administration, and, on the 28th of August,

when parliament was prorogued by commission, the speech delivered

ascribed to her majesty great satisfaction in the relief so cordially

provided by parliament for the Irish poor, and the beneficial effects

produced. These tokens of returning peace were as the morning dew, which

soon passes away, and the measures of parliament, notwithstanding their

magnitude, were soon proved to be inadequate. The government acted,

however, with generosity and courage, although their wisdom and

administrative aptitude were not equally conspicuous. During a portion

of the interval of the reassembling of parliament, in January, 1847, the

government, unauthorised by parliament, expended a million sterling

per month. The cabinet felt assured that parliament would indemnify and

England approve. Immense supplies of Indian corn and other articles of

food were carried by government steamers to such points of the coast

as were convenient for their prompt dispersion to the interior. The

labourers on the public works were paid from one shilling to one

shilling and sixpence per day. In the county of Mayo, where the distress

was peculiarly aggravated, nearly half a million sterling was expended

in public works, in districts the Ordnance valuation of which was little

more than half that amount. These works were unproductive, and baronies

were pledged to their whole value, some for a year, and others for

several years, in repayment of the grants, although the plan of

repayment to the government was, that only half the amount advanced

should be refunded. Many private individuals, both in Ireland and

in Great Britain, exhibited a noble generosity; and the heroic

self-sacrifice of clergymen, medical men, and others, in the midst of

the famine and plague-stricken people, cannot be too much commended. The

liberality and exertions of the Irish residents in England and Scotland

was much to their own honour and to the reputation of their country.

Notwithstanding all these exertions, the aid of the government and

of private individuals was abused, and the annals of the world do not

contain any narrative of ingratitude and selfishness more base than

those which record the transactions of certain classes of the Irish

people during that terrible crisis. Many of the landed gentry took

occasion to have their own fences and private roads repaired at the

public expense, and there were few parts of the country where “public

works” did not mean improvements of the domains, and the creation of

roads to the mansions of the gentry. The Roman Catholic chapels, and the

ways of access to them, were also treated as “public works.” The

conduct of “the Board of Works” was far from unimpeachable, and men

distinguished in her majesty’s service cut a poor figure in connection

with the inquiries and discussions to which the modes of managing the

public relief ultimately led. The moral effect of the charity was most

injurious to the country, whatever its material advantage in the urgency

of the occasion. This was exemplified in many ways. The peasantry were

unwilling to bestow a fair amount of labour upon works of acknowledged

utility, although paid nearly double the ordinary rates of wages; they

lazily preferred public works, so that there was a scarcity of hands to

gather in the imperfect harvest until the government partially withdrew

its competition from the labour market. Considerable numbers of farmers,

some of whom held as many as sixty acres of land, applied for tickets

from the relief committees, and were placed upon the public works, thus

drawing off the money from the legitimate objects of aid. Small farmers

in numbers received gratuities of Indian corn and other food, whose

means were such as ought in common decency and common honesty to

have prevented such an application. The local committees acted with

partiality and injustice, and numbers of the peasantry perished of

starvation, while the greedy, who were not necessitous, preyed upon the

public charity. In the county Clare, five thousand persons were struck

off the lists of those who were employed by the labour rate, and who, it

is scarcely necessary to add, rendered no return for the money they had

received, for the ostensible labour was in these cases a sham. The most

scandalous of all the exhibitions of want of probity which the crisis

developed was the revival of efforts to procure arms. The peasantry,

farmers, town-population—all of every rank—sought to possess

themselves of weapons of war, especially fire-arms. The demand for powder

and percussion-caps was as eager as for weapons. Birmingham was kept

busy; every hand in the gun-making trades there was employed; Sheffield

was also labouring at sword cutlery, and in the manufacture of daggers

and bayonets; while the smithies of Ireland were extensively engaged in

the manufacture of pike heads. The money expended by benevolent persons

and by the government on the vast scale which the emergency and a

noble compassion dictated, was employed to procure arms which those who

purchased them intended to turn upon the hands that fed them as soon

as opportunity allowed. Whatever thanks might be felt by the peasantry

towards those who on the spot gave of their private store to mitigate

the pangs of the sufferers, no gratitude was entertained to the British

public or to the government. Starving Ireland armed to strike down her

benefactors with weapons procured by the misuse of the boon which these

benefactors had extended. However painful it may be to relate the story

of such turpitude, truth constrains it: the Irish peasant begged, that

he might arm against the charitable hand that succoured him. Persons

actually perished leaving some, money, with which surviving relatives,

in the depths of their misery, purchased arms. It was thought that no

other opportunity so favourable would arise to turn the gold of the

Saxon into steel, which might be pointed against his own breast. The

object most at heart with the famishing crowds was the ascendancy

of their religion, to be accomplished by the subjugation of British

authority; for this they famished and bought muskets and horse-pistols,

powder and percussion caps, old swords and bayonets. To such an extent

was this carried that in Clonmel, a town of about 18,000 inhabitants,

and where the people rioted for food, as already recorded, nearly twelve

hundred stand of arms were sold in a few days. These were purchased

by the silver which the government Board of Works had paid in the

charitable employment of the people on non-productive labour.

Much difficulty arose, in the distribution of gratuitous supplies

of food, from the routine of the public offices. So complex were the

details which the under-officials were obliged to observe, that men

actually perished while a useless routine correspondence was being

conducted. It was satirically said by an English observer, “the delivery

of a few quarters of English corn to those who want it requires as much

correspondence and documentary forms as a chancery suit.”

The refusal of grand juries to “present” was another obstacle to the

prompt relief of the people. They were unwilling to carry into force the

presentment act, because the money advanced should be one-half repaid,

and, while held as a loan, be chargeable with interest. These bodies,

which refused presentments on grounds that it was not desirable or

necessary to make them, were amongst the most clamorous in the kingdom

for their share of patronage in dispensing the money and food for which

no repayment was to be made.

POLITICAL AGITATION.—YOUNG IRELAND.

During the progress of all this misery and turbulence, and while the

government required to put forth all its energies to mitigate the one

and suppress the other, Ireland was torn by political factions, and

the voice of party was never for a moment silent. On previous pages the

reader will find the state of Irish parties depicted as they stood in

1845. Throughout the year 1846 some new phases of the political spirit

of the people were presented. O’Connell still declared that the only

remedy for Ireland was the repeal of the union; and that while he gave a

modified support to a whig government, so long as it sincerely attempted

the melioration of Irish circumstances, he merely did so to prove that

he was not a partisan, and in the hope of eventually bringing all men

to believe that no effectual redress for the wrongs of Ireland was to be

expected from the imperial legislature—that Ireland’s only hope lay in

“a native parliament.” This the great agitator declared he would obtain

by moral force only, if the people of Ireland abstained from rebellion,

and preserved the moral attitude of a united demand for the repeal of

the legislative union between Great Britain and Ireland. Gradually there

arose in “the Repeal Association” a more spirited section, which went

by the designation of “Young Ireland.” These men laughed at O’Connell’s

moral force doctrines, or denounced them with disdain. At first they

professed unbounded respect for himself, and an approval of his aims,

but an irreconcileable antipathy to his measures. They maintained the

right of all men to use arms in defence or in the assertion of liberty;

proclaimed that Ireland was too noble a country, and the Irish too fine

a race, to be subjected to a provincial _status_. “Ireland a nation—not

a province,” so often proclaimed by O’Connell, became in earnest the

watchword of this new and vigorous party. They derided the time-serving

and place-hunting of O’Connell’s partisans, and declared that, by asking

places from the English government for his followers, O’Connell had

corrupted and dishonoured his country. They also opposed “the rent,”

which O’Connell received as a tribute from the people, and a means

of enabling him to employ various agencies for the prosecution of his

labours. He had given up the practice of his profession, to him most

lucrative, in order to devote himself wholly to what he believed to

be the good of his country, and, accordingly, the people contributed

liberally to enable him, as the leader of the Roman Catholics of

Ireland, to hold his place without indignity in the face of the

parliament and people of England. In theory this contribution was at all

events creditable to the generosity and zeal of the Irish people, and no

discredit to O’Connell himself. Nor can it be alleged with truth that

he accepted it from mercenary motives, or used it selfishly. His fortune

was small; his position required large expenditure; and it is notorious

that the money he received was not hoarded, nor used to enrich his

family, but employed for political and often charitable purposes which

had the entire approbation of the donors. The Young Irelanders, however,

at first furtively and anonymously, afterwards more or less openly,

and, finally, in the columns of the newspaper press, and in the Repeal

Association itself, stigmatised the rent as mercenary. This new party

divided influence with “the Liberator” upon the boards of the Corn

Exchange, and in public meetings generally, and was the cause of great

distraction in the councils and operations of the Repeal Association.

At first they treated O’Connell as conscientiously wrong-headed on the

subjects of moral and physical force; but they gradually widened their

ground of attack, and suggested that he was actuated by corrupt motives,

not for his own advantage, but in order to obtain places for a host of

needy adventurers who constituted what was termed his “tail.” Finally,

they denounced him as a coward, and the abettor therefore of a cowardly

policy: that being afraid to place himself at the head of his armed

countrymen, he affected to abhor bloodshed, and held out a hope which he

knew to be delusive—that Ireland could conquer the restoration of her

legislature by moral, in contradistinction to physical force.

Before noticing further the effect of these differences upon O’Connell

and the Irish repeal party, it is desirable to glance at the character

and talents of the leading Young Irelanders, as these men will occupy

much prominence in the history of succeeding years. Thomas Davis was

generally alleged to be the founder of this section of the repeal party.

He was only a student in Trinity College, Dublin, when he first entered

upon political life. He imbibed early in youth a passionate love of

country, and retained it until his death, which, to the general regret,

occurred in a few years after he had entered upon political life. Mr.

Davis was a poet, although not of a high order; several specimens of

good ballad composition are amongst his remains. He cultivated classic

literature with success; as an antiquary and an historian acquired

reputation; wrote energetically and fluently; spoke in public with

earnestness and force, but had none of the graces of the finished

orator, and he despised all “rhetorical artifices.” In conversation

he was persuasive, but in public debate deficient in this quality; and

while he possessed courage to confront mobs, or dictators, as he

did also to meet an armed host in his country’s service, he was

not characterised by that presence of mind in public discussion, so

necessary for effective repartee and popular power. He was in religion

a Protestant, and a member of the Established Church; but it is obvious,

from his various papers in connection with Irish affairs, that he

was not a very earnest Protestant, and was entirely unacquainted with

theological studies. His letters and speeches also show that he was

not conversant with political economy, and that his social views were

unsound. He was a man of many excellences, a true friend, an amiable

companion, an honest and brave patriot, a gentleman, a scholar, and a

_litterateur_.

The next most notable person among the leaders of the Young Irelanders

was William Smith O’Brien. Like Thomas Davis, his integrity was

indisputable. A member, and the representative of probably the oldest

family in Europe, descended from the celebrated Brien Boroighome, who

was monarch of Ireland in the twelfth century, he was proudly jealous

of the honour of his lineage and of his name, and never did man bear a

proud name with more unsullied honour than O’Brien. He mourned over the

sufferings of his country with a tender and compassionate heart, and he

ascribed these sufferings to bad government. It was his desire to remove

all grievances by constitutional means, but his experience as a member

of the imperial parliament led him to believe that Ireland never could

receive proper legislative consideration until the union was repealed.

Perceiving that O’Connell’s agitation was never likely to effect that

object, despising the mean and corrupt practices by which that agitation

was attended, and being filled with horror at the occurrence of so much

agrarian crime, he came to the conclusion that an armed attempt to sever

Ireland from Great Britain was the duty of Irishmen, and the only hope

left for her political or social redemption. Mr. O’Brien was a member

of the Church of England, and his sympathies were with the evangelical

section. He was well acquainted with the great fundamental differences

between the church of Rome and Protestant communions, and was

conscientiously and firmly a Protestant, while his mental habits and

religious principles alike made him the consistent friend of religious

liberty. It was generally supposed that his views of government were

monarchical; and as he was the undoubted representative of the Irish

monarchy, it was also believed that he had sufficient ambition to look

forward to the time when independent Ireland would restore to him his

family honours. The personal and moral influence of Mr. O’Brien were

such as to qualify him to be a leader. He was much loved, and deserved

to be so. As a man he was amiable, as a gentleman courteous, as a friend

true. Intellectually, he was not fit to conduct a powerful party through

great dangers. Scholarly and accomplished, he was yet not profoundly

read, nor did he possess any great power as a writer or speaker. He

could not shake the senate like Grattan, Flood, or Curran, nor could

he move the popular will by his pen, like Moore or Davis. Whatever he

undertook for Ireland was in the spirit of a patriot, and his courage

was as unquestionable as his truth. He had studied too little the

character of his countrymen, and the political influence of their

religious predilections, or he probably would never have embarked upon

the stormy sea of the repeal agitation. Had he pondered deeply the

philosophy of Irish character, and of the Protestant and Roman Catholic

religions, by which the people were so extensively and sincerely

influenced, he must have foreseen that the Irish Roman Catholic

population would never enter upon any political enterprise to which

their priests were opposed; that the priests would never favour any

political scheme that did not comprise the ascendancy of Rome; and that

the Irish Protestants, deeply and thoroughly convinced of that fact,

would not extensively join any confederacy for political purposes where

the priesthood could possibly exercise any authority. All these

things William Smith O’Brien, from his position as an Irish Protestant

gentleman, ought to have known; knowing these things, he never could

have plunged into the raging surge of an Irish popular insurrection. He

meant honestly, failed signally, and suffered himself to be involved in

a hapless enterprise, because he had not sufficiently studied the people

among whom he lived, nor the religious influences to which they were

subjected.

A third leader of this party was Thomas Meagher, who afterwards called

himself O’Meagher, son of a wealthy and respectable Roman Catholic

citizen at Waterford. Mr. Meagher was the youngest of all the Young

Ireland leaders.

He had been educated at the Jesuit College, Stonyhurst, Lancashire,

where it would appear that one principle undermined another in his

education; for while he came forth a Roman Catholic politician and a

patriot, he found that the consistent profession of the one came into

such frequent collision with the other, that his honest and manly mind

could not reconcile them, and, as some regarded it, he sacrificed his

creed to his country. Sir Jonah Barrington represents the Roman Catholic

leaders of his day as sacrificing their country to their church.

Thomas Meagher certainly appeared to perform the converse of this.

His enunciations of religious opinion were boldly liberal, and utterly

incompatible with the ascendancy of his own or any other church. In this

respect, as, indeed, in every other, he preserved throughout his course

a most laudable consistency. He probably comprehended the principles of

civil and religious liberty better than any other member of the Young

Ireland confederacy. Young Meagher was full of ardour for the cause of

repeal. Like Davis and Smith O’Brien (to both of whom he was attached

by the tenderest friendship), he believed it to be the salvation of his

country. His soul was inflamed with love of her, and he consecrated

his genius and his life to her resuscitation by the modes which

alone appeared to him calculated to restore her from political death.

Intellectually, Mr. Meagher was superior to any other leader of the

party. Davis had neither the compass nor versatility of Meagher, who

was the only finished orator of the remarkable group of men whom he

intellectually outshone. Some of his orations are as chaste and

fervent as Emmet’s, as rich and varied as Curran’s, as intellectual

as Grattan’s, as logical as Flood’s, and as graceful and eloquent as

Shiel’s. There are few specimens of political oratory in the English

language which rival some of the speeches of this young tribune. He was

almost as gifted with his pen as with his tongue. His letters abound

with pathos, and poetry of thought and feeling; his descriptions

are graphic and lifeful; his analysis of character accurate and

discriminating; his aspirations noble and pure. There was a pleasing

fascination in his oratory and writing which never passed away. One can

hardly think of his sad story without remembering also the simile of his

national poet:—

“You may break, you may ruin the vase if you will,

But the scent of the roses will hang round it still.”

John Mitchell was another remarkable member of this fraternity. He was a

solicitor, a Protestant, and a Dissenter. He was the most fiery of all

“the rebels,” as these agitators ultimately became. Mitchell was a native

of Ulster, and possessed much of the spirit of the old Presbyterian

United Irishmen of 1798; indeed, some of their leaders were his

relations. He possessed a vigorous intellect, great energy of

thought and action, overbearing-purpose, and unflinching courage. His

information was not extensive, nor his judgment profound, and yet he was

a well-educated, well-read, and very thoughtful, reflective man. He was

adapted to be the sole leader of an insurrection where the object might

be clear, the undertaking desperate, and the work short. His nature was

not adapted either to lay an extensive plan, or co-operate with other

men of mental power in the execution of such. He was crotchetty and

impracticable, a man of rash judgment and hasty action-as brave and as

tenacious as a bulldog. In private life he was gentle and loving; it

was easy, as a friend or companion, to argue with John Mitchell, but

impossible to co-operate with him as a compatriot. He had not the mind

of a statesman, nor had he the prudence and policy requisite for a

popular leader anywhere, much less in Ireland, at a crisis of her

history so peculiar. This gentleman did much to precipitate the

insurrection which drew down upon Ireland, so soon after the period of

which we write, disgrace and ridicule. Like Smith O’Brien, he did

not thoroughly understand the people he was to lead, nor those of his

countrymen to whom he and they were so certain to be opposed, nor did

he compute the religious prepossessions by which those distinct parties

were respectively influenced. Mr. Mitchell was nominally a Unitarian in

his religious creed, but he held very lax notions of this theology, and

verged to Deism.

His views of political economy were erroneous and impracticable; yet he

seemed to pride himself upon his absurd economical theories. He seemed

to have no fixed views of government; he was neither monarchist,

aristocrat, nor republican: his opinions seemed to be incompatible with

all organised government, except a popular despotism, such as the French

empire exemplified. Hatred to England, her name, race, and institutions,

seems to have amounted to a monomania with him; yet he was not himself

of Celtic lineage. His intolerance of opinion and rashness of action

would have been utterly unendurable, were it not for the directness of

his aims, the sincerity of his motives, the disinterestedness of his

spirit, and the suavity of his disposition. The only other member of the

Young Ireland party deserving notice as a chief was Charles Gavin Duffy,

the editor and proprietor of the _Nation_ newspaper. Mr. Duffy was a

Roman Catholic, and professed unbounded respect for the priests. He was

generally suspected of coquetting with them to secure their patronage

of the Young Ireland cause, and that at heart he despised the popular

subserviency to them. There was much in his speeches and literary

articles to confirm this view, but there was also a great deal to lead

to the belief that he was at heart “a priest’s man.” Certainly their

reverences did not think, or, at all events, appear to think him, a

very particular friend to their order, for they frequently opposed

the circulation of his paper, and denounced himself. He bravely,-’-but

respectfully battled with them, and lost the game-the circulation of his

paper fell as the Roman Catholic tone of it was lowered. Whether this

circumstance had any influence, as was alleged, it is beyond doubt that,

while he continued to maintain his young Ireland theories, he became

more chary of combat with the clergy, and no paper put forth a more wild

and daring ultra-montanism than the Dublin _Nation_, at the very time

that its columns were filled with passionate poetry dedicated to the

rights of country and of kind. Articles asserting that all Irishmen

should be held equal before God and the law, and that Orange ascendancy

and all party ascendancy was destructive to Ireland, were strangely in

contiguity with others asserting the most despotic claims for the

church of Rome that ever were put forth in her name. On the whole, the

inference might be fairly drawn from the writings and speeches of Mr.

Duffy that he hated England with an indiscriminating and malignant

rancour; that her peculiar virtues were as hateful to him as her vices,

her glorious deeds as her errors; and that he hated her for the power

with which she supported a certain degree of civil and religious

liberty, as much as from any grievances of which his country had to

complain, or any distaste he entertained to her race, her habits, or the

idiosyncracies of thought by which her people were characterised. He was

anxious to see his country independent and prosperous, and in order

to be so, wished to see a severance from England, and a full and

unmitigated ascendancy of the Roman Catholic religion. Personally, Mr.

Duffy was too generous, kind-hearted, and manly to persecute, and would

have been among the first to endanger himself by interposing to protect

another from the chain or brand of the persecutor; but the tone of his

writings, and the writings of those who found readiest access to the

columns of his journal, was relentlessly bigoted. If mobs fell upon

zealous, or, it may be, over-zealous clergymen or Scripture-readers,

the Nation always extenuated the ruffianism, and abused the objects of

popular violence. Some reason for this course, applicable only to the

particular case, or to a class of cases under which it was ranged,

was always relied upon in justification of these bitter outbreaks of

intolerance, but the paragraphs in which the vituperation found vent

always disclosed some bigoted principle which constituted the core of

the article. O’Connell obtained an unhappy celebrity for his violence

in religious disputation, but there was always a waggery in his

most virulent sectarian harangues which relieved them, and left the

impression that his bigotry was professional or forensic rather than

heartfelt, but the _Nation_ newspaper allowed no humour to shed a ray

of relief upon the dark sentences of its intolerance. If indomitable

fortitude, endurance, and perseverance could win a cause, Charles Gavin

Duffy would have secured all for which he afterwards struggled and

suffered. The political economy of Mr. Duffy, judging from the columns

of the _Nation_, was not much more enlightened than that of his

coadjutors.

Such were the men who constituted the leaders of the Young Ireland

section of the Repeal Association. There were others who possessed

eloquence, courage, and patriotism, but they did not occupy the

front rank. With this fresh, youthful, earnest, intellectual, and

uncompromising body of young men O’Connell had to compete almost

single-handed; for although he was well supported by the priests, and by

the old hacks of the association, he alone could confront intellectually

so gifted an array of antagonists, or maintain, with any chance of

victory, his side in the logomachy which was perpetually proceeding

within the circle of the Repeal Association. Moore, in one of his

melodies, represents the demon of discord as annually appearing in the

Boyne, and casting forth the burning arrows which were ignited by his

breath; but the scene of the fiery fiend’s operations might be well

supposed as changed to “Conciliation Hall,” and his arrows thence flung

over the inflammable isle. However indifferent the loyalists might be

to the conflicts between Old Ireland and Young Ireland, the government

could not be so, for “O’Connell’s tail” was, if no ornament, of some use

on the ministerial benches. O’Connell denounced the Whigs, but intrigued

to keep them in power, or help them to obtain it. The old Ireland party

had votes in parliament, and gave them with more or less fidelity on the

side of Lord John’s administration; whereas the Young Irelanders had

yet to gain the heart, if not the ear of their country, and were not

recognised as a power, except so far as they constituted an _imperium

in imperio_ within the circle of the Repeal Association. The bolder

doctrines of this young party tended also to inspire a spirit of

determined and organised revolt, which the government could not observe

without concern, and the temper of the people was so embittered by

the feuds of their leaders, as to be at least an unfavourable set-off

against the probability that these contests would impair the moral

influences of those who waged them. As a specimen of the state of

feeling between these two parties, the proceedings of the Repeal

Association for June 22nd may be adduced. At that time Sir Robert Peel

was still in office, if not in power; but every one in Ireland believed

that the Whigs would soon resume place, and that O’Connell would pass

from the sphere of unqualified opposition to that of qualified support.

The Young Irelanders took advantage of these impressions to weaken

O’Connell’s influence as a leader. This cut him to the heart: he

received the tidings in London, and chafed under the vigilant restraint

which this opposition in his own parliament placed him as to the policy

he might adopt at St. Stephen’s. He wrote to the association a letter,

which showed his annoyance and apprehension; the following is an

extract, the most pertinent to the purpose for which the reference

is made:—“It is with the bitterest regret and deepest sorrow that I

witness the efforts which are made by some of our juvenile members to

create dissension and circulate distractions amongst the repealers. It

is manifest that the great majority of the Repeal Association must exert

themselves strenuously to support the association, or the persons to

whom I allude will divide its ranks, and finally destroy the association

itself. For my poor part, I will not be an idle spectator of such a

struggle. ’Tis true that the people may be induced to desert me, but I

never will desert the people. I perceive that it is—I will not use the

proper term—but I will say, most unhandsomely suggested that, in

the event of the Whigs coming into power, the repeal cause is to be

abandoned, or postponed, or compromised. I utterly deny the assertion.

While I live the repeal cause shall never be abandoned, postponed, or

compromised, to advance any persons to power, to support any party or

faction. I have long since; nailed the colours of repeal to the mast,

and they shall, during my life, never be taken down, unless to cover the

entry of the Irish members into the Irish parliament in College Green.”

The contests between the two sections of repealers ended in the

secession of the Young Irelanders from the Repeal Association. O’Connell

was at heart glad of this, for his physical and intellectual energies

were flagging, and the constant tantalising to which he was subjected

in the association by these young men irritated his nervous system, and

impaired his health. He made a show of conciliation, and sent a Roman

Catholic clergyman of considerable importance, the Rev. Dr. Miley, to

open negotiations with Smith O’Brien, whom he did not hesitate publicly

to declare was the only man of weight among them. O’Brien was not to be

won by the voice of the charmer, and O’Connell became furious, attacking

the literary men, who principally led the Young Irelanders, in terms

which gave offence to the whole press, and strengthened the ranks of his

opponents. The Whigs treated the Young Irelanders contemptuously, but

endeavoured by every means in their power to conciliate the old repeal

party. Not only was the arms bill dismissed from parliament, but place

and patronage was at the beck of O’Connell; and many of his followers,

notwithstanding their anti-English feeling, and the need of their

services which they supposed their country had, accepted situations in

England and the colonies. The magistrates who had been dismissed by Sir

Robert Peel’s government for attending repeal meetings, or joining the

association, were all restored to the commission of the peace. Dublin

Castle unbarred its venerable portals to those who had ceased to be

welcome there, because of their connection with the repeal agitation.

O’Connell’s reiterated declaration, that the Young Ireland leaders did

not possess the intelligence, experience, tact, or discretion to conduct

any great movement, much less one of such magnitude and peril as they

proposed, made a deep impression on the minds of the people, and checked

the insurgent progress of these eloquent declaimers.

A circumstance occurred in the English house of commons, in the early

part of the year, which damaged the _prestige_ of Smith O’Brien, and

although O’Connell exerted himself in parliament on his behalf, the

event gave the arch-agitator satisfaction. He had many a private joke

at the expense of O’Brien, and few men could wound with a brighter point

than O’Connell in his best moods of satire. Mr. O’Brien was nominated

on a committee, and refused to serve, alleging that the affairs of his

country were so neglected that he would not attend to any other business

than such as related to it. This was untrue, the affairs of Ireland

had for some years occupied much of the attention of the house, and,

moreover, if Mr. O’Brien did not choose to be amenable to the rules

of the assembly, he ought to have resigned his seat. Persisting in his

refusal to serve on the committee, he was, by order of the speaker,

taken into custody by the serjeant-at-arms, and confined to a chamber

within the precincts. After some time he was released, upon the motion

of Mr. Shaw, an Irish Conservative member. The obstinate conduct of

Mr. O’Brien, on this occasion, vindicated no principle and asserted no

right; it caused his own pure patriotism to be suspected, and brought

his country and himself into ridicule.

Such was the political condition of Ireland when 1846 closed in cold and

gloom over its sickening, starving population. The year expired in

the midst of the most frightful social condition to which any European

people had ever been reduced. O’Connell too truly described it, in one

of his strange and varied harangues in the Repeal Association, in the

following manner:—He commenced by saying, that he deeply regretted to

be obliged to announce that the state of the country was tenfold worse

than it was that day week. The frost had set in, and cold and hunger

were doing their work—in fact, starvation was stalking through the

land. In Connaught there were no less than forty-seven deaths

from starvation within the week—not merely reports of deaths, but

forty-seven cases in which coroners’ juries returned verdicts of death

from starvation. This was a horrible state of things, and he hoped that

they would soon be put an end to. The landlords had come forward to give

relief—at least, to some extent; but the merchant classes, he regretted

to say, were holding back. He had seen no meeting of these men; however,

he soon hoped to hear of one; and, in the name of the forty-seven

starved and murdered victims, he would implore of them, and the men of

all classes, to come forward and render every assistance in their power

to relieve the distress.

The orator on that occasion was less than just to the merchants, and

somewhat more than just to the landlords. It was brought to light by

certain correspondents of the London press, that on Mr. O’Connell’s own

land the state of the people was most deplorable; that this was so even

before the failure of the crops; that the ordinary condition of his

tenantry bordered upon famine. Mr. O’Connell was, in fact, “a middle

man;” he rented extensive lands, and sub-let at a very large profit. The

persons who were his tenants were ground down with an oppressive rent,

and vainly endeavoured, without capital, profitably to cultivate their

“takings.” On the land over which he had himself full control, the

people had little ground of complaint, and much cause for gratitude.

Although he did not come out unscathed from the controversy, which was

raised about the state of the people on his own lands, he was as much

sinned against as sinning—there was an unfair effort to fasten upon him

an imputation of selfishness, which, at all events, he confuted.

Such was Ireland in 1846. Much was done for her; but she suffered

not only in spite of these benevolent efforts, but even by them. She

sorrowfully exemplified the song of her bard—

“Thy suns, with doubtful gleam.

Weep while they rise.”

The effect of the opposition of the Young Irelanders upon O’Connell

was signal; he evidently began to droop; his physical power no longer

endured. The attacks made upon him by the London press, in connection

with his conduct as a landlord, deeply depressed him; for although he

positively denied the imputations, and furiously assailed his critics,

he felt to the core the exposure of whatever was wrong in his conduct on

that matter. The failure of the potato crop, and the starvation of the

people, were all that seemed necessary to complete the physical decline

of this remarkable man. It was remarked in Dublin, at the close of the

year, that his voice had so far failed that he could scarcely be heard

in the Repeal Association; indeed, similar complaints had been made in

parliament months before. He walked as if weary; his head drooped, and

he wore a prodigious mass of clothing, especially about his throat and

chest. He might be sometimes seen walking between his sons, leaning on

their arms, his head bowed down, as if to escape the winter’s blast,

and his body bent as if unable any longer to walk upright. Sometimes he

might be seen passing to or from the association on a “jaunting car,”

so muffled up that only those conversant with his habits could have

identified him. The public power of O’Connell was evidently drawing to a

close.

AFFAIRS OF INDIA.—BATTLE OF ALIWAL.—TOTAL EXPULSION OF THE SIKHS

FROM THE WEST BANK OF THE SUTLEJ.—SUBMISSION OF THE LAHORE

GOVERNMENT.—INSURRECTION OF THE CASHMERE PEOPLE.

The year 1846 was an eventful one for India and for British interests

there; it opened in the midst of one of the most formidable warlike

straggles ever witnessed since the English first began their conquering

progress under Clive. Although the Sikhs had experienced such defeat at

Moodkee and Ferozashooshah, they were not yet disheartened, but were

determined to maintain the war. By the close of 1845 they had been

driven from all their posts of importance on the left bank of the

Sutlej, except their strong works at the bridge of Sobraon. Early in

January, 1846, they began operations by crossing the river, so as to

draw supplies from the fertile resources of the territory from which

they had been so recently, and after such hard fighting, expelled.

The Sirdar Runjoor Singh Majeethea crossed over to the bank opposite

Philoor, and occupied Baran Hara. This place was situated between the

old and new courses of the Sutlej, and was favourably situated for

the purpose of cutting off the communications of the British, and of

alarming the garrison of Loodiana, then one of the most important places

in that part of the country. Brigadier-general Godby held command of the

garrison at Loodiana, which consisted of only three regiments of native

infantry; but other troops were rapidly moving up to reinforce it. Some

of those troops had to march from Umballah. While Runjoor Singh was

crossing the Sutlej and taking up a position at Baran Hara, the British

were also engaged in active operations. Lord Gough had sent a detachment

from the division of Sir Hairy Smith against Dhurrumkote. The town was

defended by a fort, and it was reported that the garrison would make

a desperate resistance. Sir Harry Smith in person commanded the troops

sent against the place, and proceeded with such celerity, that the town

and fort became an easy conquest. The garrison proved to be entirely

composed of irregular auxiliaries to the Khalsa, and they made no show

of determination. The movements of the sirdar, already described, became

so threatening to Loodiana, that Sir Harry Smith was ordered, upon the

reduction of that place and the security of the stores of grain which it

contained, to manouvre for the defence of the menaced British garrison;

and Brigadier-general Wheeler was ordered, with the second brigade

of Sir Harry’s division, to follow in support. General Smith marched

rapidly from Dhurrumkote to Jugroon, and then, to use the language

of General Gough, “breaking down” from Jugroon, he marched towards

Loodiana. This movement was extremely hazardous, for the sirdar’s

forces were by far the more numerous, and his infantry, active and well

disciplined, burned to avenge the previous disasters. Runjoor marched

his forces parallel to those of the British general, opening upon him,

as occasion allowed, a heavy cannonade; for the Sikh forces were well

supplied with cannon, and their gunners were capable of maintaining,

with coolness and skill, a well-directed fire. Both parties showed great

skill in manoeuvring, and the major-general required all the ability

which he displayed to extricate himself from the superior force, which

pursued his march and harassed all his movements. On several occasions,

the whole force of Major-general Smith was in imminent peril, but its

gallant commander never quailed, was never thrown off his guard, and

was not in a single instance out-generalled. On one occasion the enemy

obtained, by his superior numbers, a most advantageous position, which

placed the small British force in great peril, for, bending round one

wing of his army, the sirdar enveloped the flank of the British.

The English general with admirable coolness, extricated his brigade,

retiring by _échelons_ of battalions, suffering heavily, but maintaining

the order and steadiness of his troops until the imminency of the peril

was over, when he opened his communications with Loodiana, at

once securing his own force, and affording safety to the garrison.

Brigadier-general Wheeler was unable at once to follow up these

movements; the skilful and complicated manoeuvres which Sir Hairy made

to evade the enemy threw the brigadier off the communication. The

Sikhs were, on the whole, encouraged by these proceedings; they had

interrupted the communication of Generals Smith and Wheeler, captured

considerable baggage, acted for some time on the aggressive, and

inflicted loss upon the British. It was, therefore, with some

confidence, that they took up an intrenched position at Budhawal,

resting for support on the fort connected with that place. The position

was not, however, a safe one. Smith and Godby were on one Hank, and

Wheeler, cautiously feeling his way, hung dangerously upon the other.

The sirdar became alarmed lest Wheeler should be reinforced, and the

British generals should then fall on both his flanks; he accordingly

fell back upon the Sutlej, a movement bad in strategy, but which was

forced upon him by the movements of the English generals—unless,

indeed, he had suddenly, with great rapidity and boldness, attacked them

in detail. Wheeler and Smith formed a junction, and moved clown upon the

abandoned post of Budhawal. Here General Smith was further reinforced,

and he found himself at the head of a body of men, European and native,

sufficiently formidable to justify him in acting at once upon the

offensive. Before General Smith could attack the new position of the

sirdar, the latter was reinforced by a brigade of cavalry, twelve guns,

and a small division of infantry, probably numbering about four thousand

men. Finding himself at the head of a force numerically so superior to

the British, the enterprising sirdar once more took the offensive;

but instead of attacking the army of Sir Harry Smith, he attempted to

intercept his communications with the main army, by the occupation

of Jugroon. To prevent the accomplishment of this object, the English

general determined to bring on a general engagement. Accordingly, on the

morning of the 28th of January, the British force made directly for the

enemy, with whom they came up after a march of six miles. The Sikhs were

in position along a ridge of elevated ground, close to the village of

Ullewall, or, as it is called in the British despatches, Aliwal. The

right of the enemy rested upon a somewhat precipitous ridge, while the

left was defended by intrenchments. As the British cavalry came near the

enemy, they deployed, and advanced boldly, presenting an imposing array,

especially the European lancers. The ground was favourable for cavalry;

it was like a fine English sward. The troopers then took ground to the

right and left by brigades, the infantry advancing in column. From the

Sikh camp the scene was more brilliant; as the cavalry broke away the

columns of the advancing infantry appeared full in view, the sheen of

their bayonets brightly gleaming in the eastern morning sun. Still more

brilliant was the scene as the advancing columns deployed into line, for

what sight so impressive, where masses of men constitute the objects of

interest, as lines of British infantry drawn up in the array of battle

‘? The cavalry now assumed direct échelon to the rear of both flanks

of the infantry. The artillery were placed on either flank and in the

centre. A review day in Hyde Park, Aldershot, or in the undulated and

picturesque Phoenix Park, at Dublin, could not present a more orderly

and trim appearance than this magnificent line of British soldiers,

drawn up before the acclivities of Aliwal. There was no wind, no dust.

The sun was bright, but not so hot as might be expected in that climate,

and the troops moved with noiseless foot, hoof, and wheel over the hard

grass, as if it were a fairy scene, and the baton of the British chief

were the wand of an enchanter, every movement of which called into

gay and brilliant reality some new feature of the “glorious pomp and

circumstance of war.” Viewed from the British lines, the Khalsa host

was also imposing, as its dark masses of infantry were ranged along the

position, from whence they looked sullenly down upon their skilful

and gallant foe. The Sikh cavalry, in constant and unnecessary motion,

gave some life to the stillness which brooded over the long lines of the

compact and motionless infantry of the Khalsa army. It was a moment of

extreme suspense, for upon the fortune of this battle much depended.

If the sirdar repulsed the British, he would undoubtedly cutoff their

communications, oblige them to fall back upon Loodiana, and paralyse the

advance of Lord Gough upon Sobraon. If the British conquered the enemy’s

lines, the sirdar’s army had no retreat; the river was in his rear, and

it was in no place easily fordable, nor had he other means of crossing,

adequate to the safe retreat of such an army—defeat and destruction

were to him the same. It was a day for valour to aid men; life, hope,

honour to both armies depended upon the deeds to be that day enacted

upon the grassy slopes of Aliwal.

The superiority of the enemy in numbers enabled him, by his left, to

outflank the British; Sir Harry Smith, accordingly, ordered the troops

to break into open columns and take ground to the right. The British

line had advanced one hundred and fifty yards; it was now ten o’clock,

and suddenly from the whole of the Khalsa position a fierce cannonade

was opened. At first the balls fell short, but as the British advanced,

the enemy’s shot told fearfully upon their ranks. Still, under this

heavy fire, the line was halted, that the general might execute a

manoeuvre which appeared to open a prospect of more speedy victory. The

village of Aliwal was discovered to be the key of the position, and the

British general, by moving his right successfully upon it, could with

great advantage operate against the left and centre of the enemy’s line.

This the English commander executed in the most brilliant manner: the

first brigade of his own division, under Brigadier Hicks, immediately

supported by Brigadier Godby’s brigade, which had constituted the

garrison of Loodiana, gallantly stormed the village of Aliwal, and

from this new vantage-ground opened a deadly fire upon the right of the

enemy’s left, and his left centre. Sir Harry then ordered his whole

line to advance, which was gallantly achieved, the 31st (or Young Buffs)

European regiment distinguishing itself, although the native regiments

showed a noble emulation to be first in front. The cavalry on the

enemy’s left were now in a position to act effectively against the

British, but the brigade of cavalry on our right flank, commanded by the

skilful and clashing Brigadier Cureton, charged them, sabring numbers,

and driving the rest pell-mell upon their infantry, whom they threw

into confusion. Another body of British cavalry, consisting of the

light-horse and the body-guard, made a second charge equally brilliant.

The intrenchments of the enemy, filled with infantry, were now brought

into view; but General Smith ordered Godby’s brigade to change front

and take them _en revers_; this manouvre increased the confusion of the

enemy, whose infantry gave way, leaving several guns in the hands of the

victorious brigade. These movements on the enemy’s left were decisive

of the action, but the British behaved equally well on other portions of

the field. Brigadiers Wheeler and Wilson assailed their right, storming

their lines and capturing their guns. The Khalsa army reeled back,

broken and despairing, and sought the river, in the vain hope that they

might manage to cross by fording or by boats. The rapid movements of the

British turned the retreat of the enemy into a disorderly and desperate

flight. The sirdar had, however, made some provision for defeat; he had

occupied strongly the village of Bhoardec, so as to cover the retreat

to the river, and if possible to cover also the passage. Here the 16th

Lancers behaved splendidly. The enemy had a strong force of infantry

drawn up on one flank of the village; the 16th charged them; the foe

stood the charge heroically; the 16th penetrated their square; the Sikh

square, notwithstanding the efficiency of the lance in such warfare,

closing behind the cavalry as they charged through. The lancers wheeled,

and this time used the sword more than the lance, disconcerting the

arrangement of the enemy, and breaking their square. The 3rd Light

Cavalry completed the work of destruction, bursting through the

formation of the infantry, and putting great numbers to the sword. The

fighting might be said, to be in some sense more desperate after

the battle was lost and won than during the operations upon which

stragetically its issue depended. While these brilliant, cavalry charges

were occurring on the right of the village, her majesty’s 53rd carried

the village itself by storm, and the 30th native infantry, wheeling

round by the left of the houses, took the fugitives in rear. The same

masterly skill and heroic valour which was shown in taking Aliwal

conquered Bhoardee, the last hope of the defeated; for although about

1000 Khalsa infantry rallied under a high bank to check the destructive

advance of the English, there was no longer any hope of covering a

retreat across the river. Even this rally only added to the slaughter

and the ultimate confusion: a heavy fire of musketry from 1000 men,

closely directed, was galling to our soldiers, but the 30th native

infantry took them, at the point of the bayonet, and as they retreated,

twelve guns which were previously moved up to within three hundred

yards, opened a deadly fire of canister, mowing down the fugitives in

a manner which even those engaged in deadly strife thought it awful to

witness. To complete the horror of this flight, her majesty’s 63rd,

who moved up to the support of the 30th native infantry, pursued the

fugitives, pouring in a close, deadly, unremitting stream of musketry.

With wild cries of despair, casting away their arms, and lifting up

their hands as if beseechingly to their victors, the whole of the Khalsa

troops cast themselves into the river, except such of the earliest

fugitives as secured the boats and made good their passage. The river

was swollen; at the shallowest place the infantry were up to their

necks, and were under the fire of the artillery and musketry of their

pursuers. Those who succeeded in crossing drew up with a few guns, but

the fire of the artillery caused their speedy departure, leaving their

cannon behind. Lieutenant Holmes, of the irregular cavalry, and gunner

Scott, of the 2nd brigade horse-artillery, here performed a gallant

exploit; they swam their horses across the stream, and spiked the guns,

exposed to the fire of the enemy’s skirmishers, but covered by the

British fire from the left bank. The conflict of Aliwal was over, and

one of the most skilfully fought and completely won battles of modern

times reflected its glory upon the name of Sir Harry Smith, and the

valour of the British army of India.

The scene after the battle was horrible; the whole field of combat was

covered with the slain; the river’s banks were thickly strewn with the

dying and the dead; the Sutlej itself bore to the Sikhs at Sobraon

the tidings of the battle, for not only “redly ran its blushing waters

down,” but the corpses of the slain Khalsa soldiery were borne along

in such numbers by the current as to reveal the horrible nature of the

slaughter, and to fill with dismay the Khalsa host.

The slain of the enemy was computed variously, from eight to ten

thousand men; the trophies of war were, nearly all the Khalsa standards,

fifty-one pieces of cannon, and a vast quantity of ammunition, small

arms, and camp equipage.

Every arm of the British force behaved with admirable gallantry and

skill; the infantry carried every point under the most galling fire,

preserving their formation in a manner beyond all praise; the cavalry

swept the horsemen of the enemy from the field, as the tide rolls the

wreck upon the shore; the artillery could not be surpassed by that of

any army in Europe: towards the close of the action, the manner in

which two 8–inch howitzers, ordered up by Sir Harry Smith himself, were

worked, excited the admiration of the troops.

This battle, however, did not determine the war. The Sikhs occupied such

strong positions on both sides of the river at Sobraon, that they were

willing to believe their post impregnable, that an attempt to storm it

would be fruitless, and that in fact there a barrier existed, against

which the surging wave of British power would be broken. This was the

only point of occupation then held by the Khalsa army on the left bank

of the Sutlej. All fears for Loodiana having now subsided, the mission

of Sir Harry Smith at the head of a separate _corps d’armée_ was over,

and he marched to join the grand army under the command of the intrepid

veteran Sir Hugh Gough, one of the noblest soldiers that ever served in

the British army. General Sir Charles Napier, in his own eccentric way,

said of him that he was “as brave as ten lions, each with two tails

and two sets of teeth.” Sir Charles rivalled Mr. Roebuck, the radical

English commoner, in the scantiness of his commendations; his droll

eulogy of Sir Hugh Gough will therefore be appreciated. On the 8th of

February, Sir Harry Smith made his junction with the army of his chief,

and was received in terms not more flattering than just from a general

who never refused to merit its just meed.

The first duty of the English commander-in-chief was now to capture the

stronghold of the enemy, which was extensively fortified, mounted more

than seventy heavy pieces of cannon, and was garrisoned by 30,000 men,

the select troops of the grand Khalsa army. Even with the addition of

Sir Harry Smith’s division, the brave old chief was hardly strong enough

for the task imposed upon him; but happily his artillery, which very

much needed it, was reinforced from Delhi by several howitzers and

mortars.

On the morning of the 10th, General Gough considered himself in a

condition to proceed against the works of Sobraon; these had been well

reconnoitred previously, and never was an army more confident in its

chief, its resources, and its own will than the British army of the

Sutlej. The enemy had been ceaselessly employed since the battle of

Aliwal in throwing up field-works on the right bank of the river, so as

to command the flanks of the works on the left bank. Easy communications

between the two camps were preserved by an excellently constructed

bridge. As this is a general History of England, and not a History of

India, or of the War in India, the space allotted to our task will not

allow of more minute particularisation of the defences.

Sir Hugh Gough made his dispositions of battle on the evening of the

9th, according to which, at daybreak on the 10th, the cannonade was to

open. A dense mist, however, covered the sphere of intended operations,

rendering it impossible to open fire until the sun had penetrated the

obscure atmosphere. On the extreme right of the works, close by the

river, Major-general Sir K. Dick, with two brigades of infantry,

awaited the signal to begin. On this point the attack was to be led by

Brigadier-general Stacey, at the head of her majesty’s 10th and 53rd

foot, brigaded with two native regiments: the 10th now, for the first

time, came under fire during this war. Brigadier Wilkinson, at the

head of the sixth brigade, was posted within 200 yards in support of

Brigadier Stacey. The reserve was commanded by Brigadier Ashburnham. The

right of the attack was occupied by the division of Major-general Sir

Hany Smith, its extreme right approaching the river. The centre was

commanded by Major-general Gilbert, whose division was posted with

its right resting on the Little Sobraon. Brigadier-general Cureton

threatened the ford at Hurrakee, and remained in observation of the

enemy’s horse, posted on the other side. The force under Cureton was

to make a feint of attempting the ford.

The supports were commanded by Brigadier-general Campbell and

Major-general Sir Joseph Thackwell; the former in support of Smith’s

left and Gilbert’s right, the latter in support of Gilbert’s left and

the right of General Dick.

As soon as the mists were dispersed by the morning sun, the Sikhs

appeared behind well-constructed redoubts and breast-works of planks

and fascines. The British field-batteries opened fire, and received a

terrible response.

At nine o’clock, Brigadier Stacey advanced, supported on either flank

by artillery. The movement was orderly and beautiful, the infantry

preserving its line in double quick time, the artillery galloping up

to take possession of every advantage of the ground, until the infantry

again occupied the advanced position; thus mutually supporting, the

artillery and infantry arrived within three hundred yards of the

ponderous batteries of the works. Here a terrible fire opened upon the

advancing force, before which many fell, and few believed, who could

see what was passing, that Stacey and his brigade would ever reach the

intrenchments of the enemy. The troops of Brigadier Wilkinson were

well up in support, and under cover of the fire of our field-pieces and

horse-artillery. Stacey’s brigade charged’ the intrenchments, entered

them, drove the enemy in at the point of the bayonet, fighting

desperately as they receded. This took place within view of a large

portion of the army, and the exultation and assurance of victory which

was consequently excited, materially affected the fortunes of the

day. The whole of this brigade, European and native, behaved with the

greatest intrepidity, “the brave Irish of the 10th,” as Major Edwardes

on another occasion described them, were especially distinguished. They

never fired a shot until within the intrenchments; they discharged their

pieces into the breasts of such of their enemies as withstood them, or

in pursuing volleys upon those who retreated within the inner area of

the works. The 53rd regiment also, as in the battle of Aliwal, behaved

with great courage, and showed the highest discipline.

As soon as General Gough perceived the success of Stacey, supported by

Wilkinson, he directed brigadier the Hon. T. Ashburnham to follow the

supports, and Generals Gilbert and Smith’s divisions to throw out their

light troops against the enemy’s centre and left, and to open a heavy

fire of artillery. The cannonade against the enemy’s centre, and more

especially against his left, was delivered with amazing rapidity, at a

close range, and with deadly aim. The Sikhs, at the same time, worked

their very heavy pieces with skill, so that while a fierce bayonet

encounter went on within the trenches on the enemy’s extreme right,

one hundred and twenty pieces of cannon sent their messengers of death

across the opposing lines, and rolled their thunders over the valley

and the waters of the Sutlej. The Sikhs began to expect that the British

centre and right would confine the attack to an artillery battle, and

therefore detached their infantry in masses from those points against

Stacey’s brigade, which had then fought their way well within the works.

General Gough, thereupon, ordered the centre and left trenches to be

attacked, so that the whole semi-circle of the works was stormed. At the

first onset the Sikhs gave way on every point, but they returned with

desperation to the conflict, especially where there was a chance of

precipitating themselves upon the native regiments. Three British

divisions of infantry fought hand to hand with the enemy; but the

battle seemed doubtful, from the numbers and desperation of the enemy.

A manoeuvre was now executed which was generally regarded as novel, but

which, on a small scale, British cavalry accomplished also in America.

The sappers and miners of the left attack broke passages through the

intrenchments, through which the cavalry of Sir Joseph Thackwell rode,

in single file, forming as they passed through, and then charging

within the area of the defences, cut down the Sikh gunners and infantry

mercilessly. The 3rd Dragoons, with less assistance from the sappers,

and making many “break-neck leaps,” sprang within, the defences,

and used their swords with the skill for which that gallant corp had

obtained so high and so well-deserved a reputation. The conduct of that

intrepid regiment surpassed, if that were possible, its own glory at

Moodkee and Ferozashooshah. Light field-pieces were brought in through

every opening, and were worked in murderous proximity to the enemy.

Infantry, cavalry, and artillery were now within the works, which were

no longer tenable, and the Khalsa soldiery fled precipitately to the

bridge, pursued with a carnage similar to that at Aliwal. Here, however,

the bridge befriended the fugitives, but an artillery and musketry fire

was directed upon it, making havoc in the confused and dense masses—men

whose hurried flight impeded their progress, and increased the

slaughter. As they gained the bridge their pursuers were at hand,

precipitating them over it into the Sutlej. Another column of fugitives

attempted to ford the river, but the waters were high, and swept them

from their feet. The horse artillery galloped into the river, and

discharged showers of grape upon the unresisting masses who struggled

through its dark waters. Little quarter was given, for, true to Eastern

usage, those who now were fugitives and cried for mercy, murdered the

prisoners whom in the early part of the action they had captured. Their

conduct resembled that of another Asiatic nation which calls itself

European, years afterwards, on the slopes of Alma, and on the plateau of

Sebastopol. To the circumstance of the Khalsa soldiery refusing to give

quarter the unsparing vengeance of our troops was to be attributed; and

it must also be admitted that when the Sepoy soldiery are thoroughly

excited, they display a ferocity which none who are only acquainted with

their ordinary conduct and character would ever suppose possible. The

battle was over by eleven o’clock. History furnishes few instances of

such a signal victory so soon won. On no occasion, not even excepting

Aliwal, did the Company’s troops fight better: the testimony of Sir

Hugh Gough was very much to their honour in this respect. He especially

selected for encomium the Ghoorkhas, as bravest where all were brave.

“I must,” wrote the general in his despatch, “pause in this narrative

to notice the determined hardihood and bravery with which our two

battalions of Ghoorkhas met the Sikhs wherever they were opposed to

them. Soldiers of small stature, but indomitable spirit, they vied in

ardent courage in the charge with the grenadiers of our own nation, and,

armed with the short weapon of their mountains, were a terror to the

Sikhs throughout this great combat.”

The battle of Sobraon destroyed the Khalsa army, and humbled the

military power of the nation. The spoils of war were sixty-seven pieces

of cannon, more than two hundred camel swivels, numerous standards,

ammunition, small-arms, side-arms, accoutrements, tools, and every

appendage of a fortified place. The loss of the British army was very

serious in effecting such important achievements.

Major-general Dick, one of the heroes of Waterloo, was killed; also

Brigadier-general Taylor; and Major-general McLaren was mortally

wounded. In all, thirteen European, and three native officers, were

killed; one hundred and one European, and thirty-nine native officers,

were wounded. The total of men killed was only three hundred and twenty,

but more than two thousand were wounded, many of them mortally. The loss

on the part of the Khalsa army was enormous; notwithstanding that they

fought behind works, a larger number were slain than at Aliwal.

Sir Hugh Gough lost no time in utilising his victory, for the same day

he passed a division of native infantry over a bridge of boats across

the Sutlej, the bridge of Sobraon having been broken and burnt at the

close of the action, and the ford at Hurrakee being impassable, the

river having risen some seven inches in a short time. The destruction of

the bridge of Sobraon does not appear to have been a politic measure;

it was not necessary as a precaution, because the enemy was so totally

defeated as not to be able to make use of it any longer.

On the 14th of February, the whole of the British army of the Sutlej

bivouaced at Kussoor, within thirty-two miles of Lahore, the Sikh

capital. The governor-general there issued a proclamation, announcing

his determination to prosecute the war until the complete submission

of the Lahore government was obtained; at the same time, his excellency

declared that he had no wish to subvert the Sikh government, but only

desired to obtain security for the future good faith of the maharajah’s

ministers, and the peace of the bordering possessions of British India.

The Lahore government was terror-struck at the rapid approach of the

British army, and at the moral effect which the proclamations of the

governor-general were likely to have upon the Sikh population. Gholab

Singh, the wuzeer, represented to the ranee, or queen-mother, that the

Khalsa army had lost twenty thousand men in the last two battles, and

that unless terms were made with the governor-general, the dominions of

her son would be soon forfeited. The ranee called a council, and it was

then agreed that Gholab should repair to the British camp and sue for

peace. The wuzeer undertook the task, on the condition that the ranee,

the durbar, and the chief officers of the army, as well as the members

of the punchayete, should sign a solemn declaration that they would

abide by the terms he might accept, and do all in their power to enforce

their observance by the Sikh soldiery and population. This was acceded

to; and on the 15th the wuzeer, accompanied by Dewan Deena Nath, and

Fakeer Kboroodeen, proceeded to the British camp. These three persons

were conjointly empowered to negotiate, and they were attended by many

influential Sikhs, anxious for peace; among them was the Banuhzie chief,

Sultan Mohammed Khan, and several sirdars of great eminence. Thus a

strong moral guarantee was given to the British that the negotiations

were sincerely opened by the Lahore government. Sir Henry Hardinge

admitted the deputation coldly, refusing to receive the muzzars offered

and accepted on all occasions of important negotiations in the East. The

terms demanded by Sir Henry were the surrender of the territories east

of the Beas, in addition to the province which had in December been

declared confiscated; the surrender of every gun which had been

pointed at the British; the disbanding of the Khalsa army, and its

reorganisation on the principles observed by the Maharajah Bunjeet

Singh; the entire regulation and control of both banks of the Sutlej;

a reorganisation of the Lahore administration, and the payment of one

million and a half sterling as indemnification for the expenses of the

war. It was also demanded that the young Maharajah Dhuleep Singh should

meet the governor-general eleven miles from Lahore. Sir Henry refused to

discuss these points in person with the Rajah Gholab Singh, but referred

him to his secretary, Mr. Currie, and to Major Lawrence. The rajah

remained until midnight discussing the terms with these officers, and

finally accepted them. On the 17th Gholab again renewed his interview

with Mr. Currie and Major Lawrence, when various details were settled.

On the 18th the young maharajah, attended by a magnificent suite,

presented himself, at Lulleeanee, to Sir Henry, who received him without

a royal salute, or any other mark of royal distinction. The maharajah,

an amiable and gentle prince, submitted to the governor, expressing

his contrition for the outrage which had been inflicted upon British

territory. Of course this was a mere formal ceremony, as the prince was

too young to take any share in the responsibility of these occurrences.

When submission was made in due form, a royal salute thundered from

the British camp, and all the etiquette due to an eastern prince was

observed towards the young maharajah.

The relics of the Sikh army were at this time drawn up about eighteen

miles from Lahore, at a place called Raebaun, under the command of

the two notorious leaders, Sirdar Fej Singh, and Rajah Sail Singh. The

soldiery of this force had the hardihood to request that they should be

led against the British, and their murmurs and threats of revenge did

not cease during the proceedings which were taking place, and which

ended in the establishment of peace. Indications were already given

that neither the Khalsa army nor its chiefs felt even yet vanquished.

Immediately after the maharajah made submission, the governor-general

put forth the following proclamation:—“The chiefs, merchants, traders,

ryots, and other inhabitants of Lahore and Umritsir, are hereby informed

that his highness Maharajah Dhuleep Singh has this day waited upon the

right honourable the governor-general, and expressed the contrition of

himself and the Sikh government for their late hostile proceedings.

“The maharajah and durbar having acquiesced in all the terms and

conditions imposed by the British government, the governor-general

has every hope that the relations of friendship will speedily be

re-established between the two governments. The inhabitants of

Lahore and Umritsir have nothing to fear from the British army. The

governor-general and the British troops, if the conditions above

adverted to are fulfilled, and no further hostile opposition is offered

by the Khalsa army, will use their endeavours for the re-establishment

of the government of the descendant of Maharajah Runjeet Singh, and for

the protection of its subjects. The inhabitants of the cities in the

Punjaub will, in that case, be perfectly safe in person and property

from any molestation by the British troops, and they are hereby called

upon to dismiss apprehension, and to follow their respective callings

with all confidence.”

On the morning of the 20th the British army were under the walls

of Lahore, where not a cannon appeared in the embrasures. The

governor-general thought it politic to send Dhuleep Singh, the young

king, with some ceremonial to his palace, he accordingly issued the

following general order, which made a favourable impression on the

inhabitants of Lahore, as well as on the chiefs of the Sikh nation:—

“The right honourable the governor-general requests that the

commander-in-chief will cause the following arrangements to be made for

escorting his highness the Maharajah Dhuleep Singh to his palace, in

the citadel of Lahore, this afternoon. The escort will consist of two

regiments of European cavalry, two regiments of native cavalry—the

body-guard to be one—one regiment of irregular horse, two troops of

horse artillery, one European and one native. The secretary to the

government of India, F. Currie, Esq., will take charge of his highness

and his suite, and will be accompanied by the political agent, Major

Lawrence; the governor-general’s private secretary, Charles Hardinge,

Esq.; the aides-de-camp of the governor-general; two aides-de-camp of

the commander-in-chief, one aide-de-camp from each general officer

of division, in uniform. The escort will be formed at the nearest

convenient spot to the governor-general’s camp at two o’clock, and

proceed to his highness’s camp, and thence to his palace. On alighting

from his elephant a salute of twenty-one guns will be fired by the horse

artillery.

“His highness the maharajah of the Sikh nation, selected by the chiefs

as their sovereign, having on the 18th instant intimated his intention

to proceed to the governor-general’s camp at Lulleeanee, attended by

his highness’s wuzeer, the Rajah Gholab Singh, and other chiefs, was

received in durbar on the afternoon of that day by the governor-general,

the commander-in-chief and the staff being present. His highness’s

ministers and chiefs there tendered his submission, and solicited the

clemency of the British government.

“The governor-general extended the clemency of the British government to

a prince the descendant of the maharajah, the late Runjeet Singh, for

so many years the faithful ally and friend of the British government,

as the representative of the Sikh nation, selected by the chiefs and the

people to be their ruler, on the condition that all the terms imposed

by the British government and previously explained to his highness’s

ministers and chiefs should be faithfully executed.

“On withdrawing from the durbar, the maharajah received the usual

salutes due to his highness’s exalted rank. His highness has since

remained near the governor-general’s camp; and, as it will be conducive

to his highness’s comfort that he should rejoin his family, the

governor-general desires that he may, with all honour and in safety, be

conducted by the British troops to the gates of his palace this day.

“A proclamation was issued on the 18th instant by the governor-general,

promising protection to all persons at Lahore and elsewhere who

peaceably continue in their usual employments of trade and industry.

“The governor-general is satisfied, after the experience of this

campaign, that he can rely on the discipline of this invincible army,

as fully and securely as he has always been confident that the clay of

battle, under their distinguished commander, would be one of victory.

“He trusts, at present, that no officers or soldiers will pass the

advanced sentries of their encampment to enter the town of Lahore, and

he requests his excellency the commander-in-chief to give the necessary

instruction to carry this order strictly into effect, as well as to

protect all persons bringing provisions into the camp.”

The report of the secretary concerning the installation of the young

maharajah in his palace, under the British auspices, is very striking,

and exemplifies the grandeur and customs of oriental courts and

conquerors:—

“I have the honour to state, for the information of your excellency,

that, in accordance with the instructions contained in the order of the

governor-general of yesterday’s date, I proceeded in the afternoon with

the escort ordered, and accompanied by the officers mentioned below, on

elephants, to conduct the Maharajah Dhuleep Singh to his palace in the

citadel of Lahore:—Major Lawrence, the govern or-general’s political

agent; W. Edwards, under-secretary of the foreign department; R. Oust,

Esq., assistant-secretary to the foreign department; C. Hardinge, Esq.,

private secretary to the governor-general; Lieutenant-colonel Wood,

military secretary to the governor-general; Captain Cunningham; Captain

Hardinge, aide-de-camp to the governor-general; Captain Grant, ditto;

Lord Arthur Hay, ditto; Captain Mills, ditto; Captain Bagot, aide-decamp

to the commander-in-chief; Captain Edwardes, ditto; Captain Gilbert,

aide-de-camp to General Gilbert; Captain Tottenham, aide-de-camp to

General Smith; Lieutenant-colonel Smith, ditto; Captain Napier, ditto;

Captain Smith, ditto.

“The procession was arranged in the following order:—9th irregular

cavalry, 3rd light cavalry, her majesty’s 16th Lancers; troop horse

artillery, Europeans; troop horse artillery, natives; her majesty’s

9th Lancers, the secretary, with the maharajah and suite, the

governor-general’s body-guard.

“The escort was formed in open column of troops left in front, commanded

by Brigadier Cureton, C.B. We proceeded in this order to the encampment

of the maharajah, about one mile and a half from our pickets, and

nearly the same distance from the citadel gate of the city. At about

three-quarters of a mile from the maharajah’s camp I was met by the

minister, Rajah Gholab Singh, and some of the chiefs. Intimation of our

approach was then sent on to the maharajah, that he might be ready upon

his elephant upon our arrival.

“On reaching the maharajah’s camp, the troops of our escort drew up, and

the maharajah, with Bhaee Kam Singh on the same elephant, came forward

from his tent, accompanied by several chiefs. After the usual salutation

and complimentary questions and replies, I placed the maharajah’s

elephant next to mine, and the troops having fallen in, as at first,

proceeded round the walls of the city to the gate of the citadel. On

arriving, Brigadier Cureton drew up the escort in line in front of

the gateway, and I took the maharajah, accompanied by the officers

enumerated in the former part of this letter, with Rajah Gholab Singh

and the other chiefs, into the interior of the citadel, and to the inner

door of his palace. I then observed to the maharajah and chiefs, that by

the order of the right hon. the governor-general, I had thus brought

the maharajah, conducted by the British army, to his palace, which his

highness had left for the purpose of tendering submission to the British

government, and for placing himself, his capital, and his country at the

mercy of the governor-general, and requesting pardon for the insult that

had been offered; and that the governor-general had thus restored him

to his palace as a mark of the favour which he desired to show to the

descendant of the late Maharajah Runjeet Singh.

“A salute of twenty-one guns was then fired by the horse artillery.

We then took leave of the maharajah at the gate of his palace, and

returning to the outside of the city, we, continuing our progress round

Lahore, thus returned to our camp. As our camp is situated opposite the

south-east end of the city face, and the citadel is immediately within

the city walls, at the north-west angle, we made the entire circuit

of Lahore. I considered this preferable to going through the city,

the streets of which are very narrow, and would have much impeded the

progress of our large escort. We did not see one gun on any part of the

walls, all their embrasures were empty.”

On the 22nd of February the governor-general occupied the citadel and

the palace, and issued a general order, proclaiming the termination of

the Sikh war. The army which had been engaged, and all regiments ordered

up to its support, received a year’s _batta_ (pay). Fej Singh, who was

twice wounded at Sobraon, was at the head of a very considerable force

in the neighbourhood of Umritsir; but, notwithstanding the devotion

of his troops, he did not dare to offer resistance; his cannons were

surrendered, the soldiery uttering loud cries of rage, and the officers,

in tears, uttering suppressed groans of remorse and shame. The disbanded

troops disturbed and plundered various districts in the country.

On the 25th of February, the men of the 16th Lancers and of the 31st

foot (Young Buffs) were ordered to Bombay to embark for England,

permission being given to such of the men as thought proper to volunteer

into regiments still serving in India. The bulk of the British army

remained in the Punjaub for some months, various circumstances affording

grounds for suspicion as to the good faith of the ranee and her durbar.

The treaty of Lahore was however completed, and was sufficiently

stringent. It has already been shown upon what terms negotiations were

opened: when the stipulations were reduced to regular form, they

assumed a more binding character, the following items having been

introduced:—The hill country between the Beas and the Indus to be

ceded instead of one lac of rupees, part of the indemnity. Fifty lacs

of rupees to be paid by the maharajah on the ratification of the treaty.

The Lahore army to be limited to twenty-five battalions of regular

(Aeen) infantry, and twelve thousand cavalry. The entire control of the

rivers Beas and Sutlej, to the confluence of the Indus at Mikenkote, and

the control of the Indus from the point of the confluence to the borders

of Beloo-chistan. The maharajah never to take into his service any

British subject, nor the subject of any European or American state

without permission of the British government. Rajah Gholab Singh to

be recognised as an independent sovereign over such territories as the

British should make over to him. All disputes arising between him and

the Lahore government to be referred to the British. All change in the

frontiers of the Lahore state prohibited without British sanction.

In pursuance of the stipulations concerning Gholab Singh, a treaty

between him and the British government was concluded at Neuritzen on the

16th of March. The following articles of it will sufficiently disclose

its character:—In the first article, the British made over to the

rajah all the hilly country just conceded by the Lahore government. This

territory was situated to the eastward of the river Indus, and

westward of the river Ravee, including Ohumba, and excluding Lahool.

In consideration of this transfer, the rajah should pay to the British

government fifty lacs of rupees on the ratification of the treaty, and

twenty-five lacs on the 1st of October. The British government to give

the rajah assistance against all external enemies. Maharajah Gholab

Singh to acknowledge the supremacy of the British government; and in

token thereof to present annually one horse, twelve perfect shawl goats,

and three pairs of Cashmere shawls. The symptoms of discontent, on the

part of the disbanded troops and the defeated chiefs, rendered necessary

an extra article to the treaty of Lahore, for the purpose of

garrisoning that city for the defence of the young maharajah during

the reorganisation of his army on a different footing. It was agreed to

occupy the citadel and town of Lahore to the end of 1846.

While all these events were passing, Sir Charles Napier, the governor of

Scinde, made great exertions to render such service as he could to the

policy of the governor-general of India. Sir Charles hastened forward

from the seat of his government, but on passing up the Sutlej was fired

upon; he landed at Ooch, and proceeded to Bhawulpore, where he arrived

on the 20th of February. He there made a political visit to the rajah,

and proceeded on to Ferozepore, which he reached on the 22nd of

February; but the governor-general was then in the neighbourhood of

Lahore. Before Sir Charles could arrive, all that has been related

transpired. By the same date, Lord Elphinstone had arrived as far as

Delhi, _en route_ to the governor-general’s camp.

Matters did not long remain quiet in the Punjaub. The ranee was an

unprincipled woman; her paramour, Lall Singh, was an unprincipled man;

and this pair began to plot further commotions before those which had so

nearly overwhelmed them were entirely composed. Lall Singh hated Gholab;

the installation of the latter as maharajah of Cashmere excited his

jealousy, especially as Gholab, having been wuzeer, continued to tender

his advice to the ranee. It was in fact determined at Lahore,

that Gholab should never enter upon his independent sovereignty.

Mohee-ood-Een had been governor of the district under the Lahore

supremacy. A son of this person, entitled the Sheik Enam-ood-Een, was

made Sail Singh’s instrument for carrying out his scheme. Acting as the

new wuzeer of the ranee, who was regent during the minority of her son,

Dhuleep Singh, Lall Singh directed the sheik to summon a meeting of

the chieftains of the mountain country subjected by treaty to the new

Maharajah Gholab Singh, and to organise among them an armed resistance

to his power. Gholab was more of a diplomatist than a soldier; he

marched against the bold mountaineers, was defeated, and obliged to call

for the aid of the English. Brigadier-general Wheeler, an experienced,

gallant, and spirited officer, was ordered to march upon Cashmere

and occupy the capital. The sheik, panic-struck, came in and made

submission, revealing the treachery of the ranee’s paramour and adviser.

Lieutenant-colonel Lawrence got possession of such documents as proved

the treacherous complicity of the Lahore government; a formal demand was

therefore made upon that government for the expulsion of Lall Singh from

the Lahore territory, and for a renewed promise that the treaty of the

9th of March between Gholab Singh and the British should be respected.

The Lahore government was once again all submission, and Lall Singh

was seized and carried across the Sutlej into the British territory. In

consequence of these transactions, the governor-general demanded that

a British resident should be received at Lahore, to whom all political

questions should be referred before obtaining a practical application.

Also that English troops should be at liberty to occupy any fort or

territory, if necessary to preserve the public peace and enforce the due

observance of the treaty. The Lahore state to pay twenty-two lacs of

new Nameck-shee rupees, of full tale and weight, per annum, in order

to reimburse the expenses which the British government should incur,

in preserving by an armed force the authority of the maharajah, and

the observance of the treaty against the refractory chiefs or disbanded

soldiery. On the attainment of his sixteenth year, the maharajah to be

recognised as of age, and the regency of the ranee and the council of

regency to cease, or sooner, if the governor-general and the Lahore

durbar so agreed. Thirteen of the principal sirdars of the Punjaub

signed these agreements in the presence of Lieutenant-colonel Lawrence

and Mr. Currie, not one of whom, in all probability, contemplated the

observance of the stipulations a moment longer than suited their own

views.

Little further of importance occurred in the Punjaub during 1846.

British India generally was quiet, but disturbances of all sorts

prevailed in the surrounding territories. The new conquest of Scinde

was consolidated by the genius of the eccentric and gallant man who

conquered it, and his name was, by a strange perversion of compliment,

used as a synonyme for “_Shatan_” all over Beloo-chistan, Affghanistan,

Delhi, and the Punjaub. Lieutenant-general Sir G. Arthur was

incapacitated by ill-health from that active administration of the

Bombay presidency which had characterised his government. He had

done much to consolidate British authority there by his firmness and

humanity, his goodness and justice, and not only by those high moral

qualities, but also by his intellectual aptitudes for sustaining the

responsibility imposed upon him.

One of the causes of disquietude in various places, and more especially

in the Punjaub, was an increasing desire of the whole native population

to expel the British. This partly arose from fanaticism, and partly from

hostility of race. The Sikh ranks had been mainly recruited from our

disbanded Sepoy soldiery and deserters. Sir Charles Napier made vigorous

efforts to correct the evils which he found to exist in the army within

his own government, and made representations to Sir Henry Hardinge full

of prophetic foresight as to the disposition of the Sepoys, whom the

gallant conqueror of Scinde believed to be disloyal almost to a man.

According to statements made long afterwards by Major-general Tucker

(the adjutant-general), and by Major-general Lord Melville, Sir Henry

Hardinge, while he actually eulogised the Sepoy army especially for

their loyalty, privately expressed his alarm at the unsafe foundation

upon which British power in India rested, in consequence of the secret

unfaithfulness of the Sepoy troops! This very much resembled Sir Henry’s

procedure afterwards, when Lord Plardinge and commander-in-chief of the

British army. Possessing administrative capacity, military talents of a

high order, and as dauntless a heart as ever beat in a British soldier’s

breast, he had the soul of a “red-tapist” and a “snob,” and was ready to

sacrifice his own opinions and the welfare of the service, to official,

aristocratic, or court influence. He fought and governed well, but not

so much for the good of the country as the objects of his caste.

His conduct in reference to the Sikh war was much reprehended for

unpreparedness, want of promptitude, and for a tampering and concessive

policy unsuitable to oriental nations. His extreme gallantry in

the field, and the successful issue of the war, blotted out these

reprehensions both from his own name and from the public mind. His

instructions from home accounted for his time-serving hesitation,

unpreparedness for the war, and forbearance with an enemy upon whom such

indulgence was lost. All this vacillation harmonised with the foreign

and domestic policy of Sir Robert Peel, under whose instructions he

acted. It met with the disapprobation _ab initio_ of all men competent

to form an opinion on Indian affairs. The chivalry of the soldier

covered the faults of the governor-general, and the impolicy of the

government under whose instructions he acted.

When the tidings of these events in India reached England, the rejoicing

was very great. Never had the arms of England been more signally crowned

with success; and never had such suspense attended the first tidings

of the dangers to our Indian empire, menaced by the invasion of the

far-famed and highly-disciplined Khalsa army. The country felt relieved

of a great pressure of care, as when, after a long and gloomy night—

“Man wakes again to joy, and peace, and hope,

Day dreams, and bright reality.”

Parliament was prompt to express the general admiration for the brave.

On Monday, the 4th of May, the House of Commons resolved itself into a

committee on a message from her majesty, respecting a provision for the

governor-general and the commander-in-chief. Both these gallant men had

been raised to the peerage. Sir Robert Peel (the minister) proposed a

grant of £3000 a year to Lord Hardinge and his two next male heirs,

and £2000 a year to Lord Gough and his two next male heirs. These

propositions received the assent of the house. Mr. Hogg, on the part of

the East India Company, announced that the company had made grants of

£5000 per year to Lord Hardinge for life, and £2000 per year to Lord

Gough. Lord Francis Egerton drew attention to the claims of Sir Harry

Smith, which both Sir Robert Peel and Lord John Russell treated as an

interference with the prerogative of the crown.

On the following night, in the Lords, the Earl of Ripon moved an address

to her majesty in answer to her message. On that occasion the Earl

of Clanricarde eloquently eulogised both the gallant generals whose

exploits in the Punjaub had added fresh wreaths to the chaplets of their

fame.

The civil affairs of India were occasionally the subject of discussion

in the British press throughout this year: the Indian railway projects,

the high price of money at Calcutta and Bombay, and the fluctuations

of commerce in our Eastern territories, demanded the attention of

economists and politicians.

On the 9th of November, an extensive list of brevet promotions in the

Indian army was announced in the _Gazette_, which comprised thirty-four

major-generals, twenty lieutenant-colonels, and two bunded and forty-one

captains. This gave great satisfaction to the profession and the public.

An interesting occurrence in connection with India took place in the

earlier part of the year. Lieutenant Waghorn, whose enterprising genius

led him to prosecute the problem of an overland route to India, saw

his labours at last crowned with success. The government resolved, with

certain modifications, to adopt the basis of his scheme.

STATE OF AFFAIRS AT THE CAPE OF GOOD HOPE.—SUCCESSES OF THE

CAFFRES.—VICTORY OVER THE TRIBES OF STOCK AND PATO BY COLONEL SOMERSET.

Among the many eventful matters of 1846 was a Caffre war. The tribes

bordering the British territory were brave, restless, and predatory.

Almost the only property which they valued was cattle, and they were

tempted by the large flocks of the colonists to make border raids. The

force at the disposal of the settlers was not sufficient to preserve

their property, nor check these incursions, much less to punish them.

The various tribes could precipitate nearly thirty thousand, and, on

occasions, forty thousand men at once upon the colony; resolute, robust,

wild men, physically superior to the Fingoes and Hottentots within the

territory of her majesty, and equal in that respect to the Boers or

British. The marauders were also mentally superior to the black races

within the colony, and altogether more interesting savages, braver

in battle, and capable of a higher civilisation. One of these tribes,

numbering about ten thousand, was in alliance with the British, but the

whole population of the Cape able to bear arms, and the troops, taken

together, did not reach twenty thousand men. The nature of the country

favoured the action of savage assailants, especially such as were

intellectually so well capable of taking advantage of it as the Caffres.

For disciplined troops it was unfavourable, where there was such an

enemy to encounter. During the early part of the year the Caffres moved

simultaneously on various points, capturing cattle, and slaying or

driving the settlers into every post upon which they might fall back for

safety. It was not war, for the Caffres literally hunted the borders,

striking terror into the hearts of the colonists, and carrying off their

property. As the year advanced the settlers assumed a well-organised

attitude; the Fingoes and Hottentots were armed, and showed some courage

in defence of the colony and the harassed troops; by dint of courage and

exertion they appeared in various directions intime to keep the enemy

at bay, and preserve the lives and habitations of the Dutch and English

settlers. This was the state of matters when, on the 26th of April,

the Caffres came down in great numbers and swept away the cattle of the

colonists, driving them through the Fish River. In carrying away this

booty they passed, with great hardihood, close to the fortified post

called “Trompetter’s Drift.” The guns of the position opened with

grape and canister, at point-blank range, and accomplished a dreadful

slaughter, but none of the booty was recaptured; the enemy even earned

away all his wounded and slain.

On May the 5th a formidable force came upon the neighbourhood of Fort

Beaufort. The colonists stood to their defence, and a sharp action

ensued, in which three of the settlers were killed and many wounded. A

much larger number of the marauders were put _hors de combat_, but the

victory, on the whole, was with the Caffres, who brought away seven

horses, three hundred and thirty head of cattle, and seventeen thousand

sheep. At this juncture Colonel Somerset, of the 7th Dragoon Guards

(then quartered at the Cape, and mounted as light cavalry), displayed an

enterprise and courage which entitled him to much honour. He was wise in

council, energetic in business, indomitable in resolution, and heroic in

battle. To these qualities of a man’s sterner nature, he added those

of a humane and amiable heart. The colonel was on the watch for an

opportunity to strike a severe blow against these freebooters, and on

the 8th of June opportunity was afforded. On the previous evening a

party of burghers and Fingoes scoured the Fish River bush, and performed

this duty efficiently, the Fingoes showing spirit, and generosity to the

enemy. Colonel Somerset formed a junction with this force on the morning

of the 8th. The colonel had under his command the Cape Mounted Rifles,

a detachment of the 7th Dragoon Guards, and two heavy guns. Early in

the day the united detachments encountered a very large force, under the

command of the notorious marauding chief, Stock. The Caffres, confident

in their numbers and in their recent successes, challenged the British

to come on, and, in fact, commenced the action, throwing out skirmishers

with something of the practice of regular troops; they afterwards made

some furious charges with the assigai. The measures taken by Colonel

Somerset were marked by his usual ability and promptitude, and the enemy

suffered a most sanguinary defeat. When Stock perceived that the day

was going against him, notwithstanding a protracted combat, he sent off

several mounted men express for Pato, another chief. The latter sent a

chief named Umhala, who advanced at the head of his tribe, but having no

conception that his friends had experienced defeat, and supposing that

he was only about to aid in taking a spoil, he was astonished to

find himself suddenly in front of the fine force of Colonel Somerset.

Meanwhile, Lieutenant-colonel Lindsay, who commanded in Fort Peddie,

perceiving that the firing of cannon and musketry was heavy and

protracted, sent out Captain Hogg, with a troop of the 7th Dragoon

Guards and a gun, who came upon the rear of Umhala’s party just as

Colonel Somerset met them. The Caffres, placed between two fires, their

retreat cut off, numerous although they were, lost confidence and broke.

They were charged fiercely, and cut to pieces. Estimates were given of

their loss, varying from three hundred to twice that number. The British

loss was slight; about seven troopers fell, and several officers were

very severely wounded, in close combat, by the assigai, a formidable

weapon in the hands of a South African. Among the officers hurt were

Sir Harry Darell, who was wounded in the thigh and arm severely; Cornet

Bunbury also received several wounds. Captain Walpole, of the Engineers,

was shot in the thigh, and a blow from an assigai upon the neck laid

bare the windpipe. Those officers, Lieutenant O’Reilly, and others,

displayed much personal prowess, cutting down the Caffres with their

swords in close, desperate, and successful conflict.

The following letter gives a good description of the scene presented to

the reinforcement sent out by Lieutenant-colonel Lindsay:—