but Colonel Groves' men were all old soldiers, and though taken by
surprise faced both ways without confusion, and poured withering volleys
into the enemy. Many fell, but the rest came on, and for a minute or
two there was a fierce fight--bayonet against sword or spear; but the
tribesmen in vain attempted to break the lines, and soon, in obedience
to a shout from their leader, sprang away and threw themselves down
among the bushes, vanishing almost as suddenly as they had appeared.
The troops now assumed the offensive, and pouring volleys into the
bushes as they advanced, swept through them, bayoneting all they found,
until the Turgars again leapt to their feet and fled. The march was now
resumed up the hill, and the village, which was found deserted, was
taken possession of. Here the colonel determined to halt for the night.
Sentries were placed at the gates and on the walls, and the troops fell
out and scattered among the houses.
"I fancy that there will be no more fighting," Colonel Groves said to
his nephew, who had ridden close beside him throughout the day. "They
have had a tremendous lesson. I counted over fifty bodies as I crossed
the ravine, and at least three times that number must have fallen in the
attack upon us. We have destroyed one of their villages, and this is in
our hands, and they must see that, unless they submit, the others will
share the same fate. They have done their utmost and failed. I think
they have had enough of it."
Late in the afternoon, indeed, a mounted man, accompanied by two
footmen, one of whom carried a white flag, was seen approaching the
walls. Colonel Groves ordered them to be admitted, and they were
brought before him.
"We don't want to fight any more," the chief said.
"I daresay not," the colonel replied, "but we are perfectly ready to go
on fighting. You began it, and we have no intention of stopping yet."
"What conditions will you give?" the chief asked.
"The only conditions I will grant are these--the return of all the
captives taken away, of every head of cattle, and of all articles
stolen; the payment of a fine of five hundred cattle; and the delivery
into my hands of the eldest sons of your twelve principal chiefs to hold
as hostages for your good behaviour in the future. If these conditions
are not accepted I shall burn your villages, and destroy your
plantations and crops."
"We have not got all the prisoners," the chief said; "there were others
with us who have taken their share."
"I shall reckon with them afterwards. I am only asking you to give up
the prisoners and spoil you have in your hands. I shall find, when I
have punished the other two tribes that were engaged with you, what
captives they have, and if any are missing I shall return here and burn
your villages over your heads."
"We cannot pay five hundred cattle."
"Oh, yes, you can! I know pretty well how many you have, and five
hundred will not leave you altogether without some. I will not abate
one from my demand, but I will consent to take the value of any
deficiency in gold and silver ornaments, taken at their weight in metal.
Those are my first conditions and my last, and you can carry them back
to your chief."
"The three principal chiefs are killed," the man said, "but I will take
your message back to my tribe."
"You had best return with an answer to-night, for at daybreak we shall
fire this place and advance against the other villages."
"Will they agree, do you think?" Percy asked when the chief retired.
"They will agree," the colonel replied confidently. "The threat of
destroying their plantations will induce them to yield. Their houses
they can soon build up again, but, with the greater part of their cattle
gone, the destruction of their plantations would mean starvation to
all."
The colonel was not mistaken. There was no reply that night, but at
daybreak on the following morning a procession was seen approaching the
village. It consisted of more than half of the women who had been
carried off, four hundred cattle from the plains, and five hundred of
the little hill cattle. There were also twelve lads, a few of whom were
almost men, while others were but four or five years old. Ambassadors
soon arrived from the Naga and Kotah tribes. These had, as the colonel
learnt from a captured native, sent contingents who had taken part in
the fight on the previous day. Similar conditions to those imposed on
the Turgars were demanded, except that the fine for each tribe was fixed
at three hundred head of cattle only, the colonel knowing that they were
poorer in this respect than the Turgars.
For two days messengers went and came, and it was only when at last the
troops were upon the point of starting against them that they yielded,
and on the following morning the captives, hostages, and cattle arrived
at the village. The chiefs of all three tribes were ordered to attend
that afternoon. The colonel addressed them, and severely admonished
them as to their behaviour in the future. "If again," he said, "there
is any outrage whatever upon your peaceable neighbours on the other side
of the river, I warn you that no mercy will be shown you. Your villages
will be destroyed, your plantations rooted up, your crops burned, and
your country made desert from end to end. I punished your neighbours
ten years ago, and I have punished you now. The next time I have to
bring a force across the river I will root you out altogether."
The chiefs all gave the most solemn assurances that they would in future
abstain from forays across the river, and in order to mingle clemency
with justice, and to disembarrass himself of the trouble of looking
after a number of prisoners, he restored to each of the tribes eight out
of the twelve hostages that had been handed over, retaining only the
sons of four leading chiefs. Upon the following morning the expedition
marched back, two companies of the infantry and the guns forming the
column, while the cavalry and the rest of the infantry looked after the
great herd of cattle that had been collected, and escorted the rescued
women, many of whom were completely prostrated by what they had gone
through. The total loss of the column was but fifteen killed and
fifty-three wounded.
"I am glad to be back again," the colonel said as they rode across the
river. "It has been a very successful little expedition, and the lesson
has been so severe that I do not think we are likely to have any more
frontier trouble for some time. The other tribesmen will all be awed at
the punishment we have inflicted."
"What will you do with the hostages, uncle?"
"I shall keep them for three or four months, and then send them back
with a message to the effect that, feeling the tribes have been
sufficiently punished, and being assured that they can now be relied
upon to abstain from giving trouble, I am willing to trust them, and
will therefore no longer deprive the chiefs of their children. Such
clemency will aid the effect of the sharp lesson we have administered."
The joy of the villagers at the return of their wives, daughters, and
cattle was unbounded, and blessings were showered on the governor, who
had shown himself so zealous and powerful in protecting those under his
rule.
Another two days' journey took them to the fortress, where their arrival
with the eleven hundred captured cattle was hailed with lively
satisfaction by the garrison.
Things returned to their normal state. Percy studied, rode, and drilled
during the day, and spent his evenings in the zenana with his uncle and
aunt, and from the former received a detailed account of the course of
Sikh politics since the death of Runjeet Singh.
Up to the time of the death of the maharajah in 1839 the most friendly
relations had been maintained between the Punjaub and the British. He
was succeeded by his son, Khurruk Singh. He was a weak man, who
possessed neither the firmness nor ambition of his father, and the real
power was in the hands of Nonehal Singh, his son. He was a fiery young
man, and shared to the full the hostility felt toward the British by
most of the Sikh chiefs. His father died, and there was a general idea
that the young rajah would speedily declare war against the English. He
was, however, killed on his return from his father's funeral, by the
elephant on which he was riding running against a beam supporting some
stonework, which fell and killed both Nonehal and another prince who was
riding with him.
There was little doubt that the affair was not an accident, but that the
_mahoot_ had been bribed by the adherents of Sher Singh, a reputed son
of Runjeet Singh, who had many powerful supporters in his claim to the
throne. The chief of these was Dhyan Singh, the prime minister of
Runjeet, who had been removed from his office by Khurruk Singh, and who,
with his two brothers, had been all-powerful during the later years of
the Lion. A number of the chiefs, however, were by no means disposed to
again submit to what was practically the rule of Dhyan and his brothers.
Sher Singh had the advantage that, like Nonehal, he was very popular
with the army, and for the moment he obtained possession of Lahore. He
was, however, expelled by the mother of the late Nonehal, an able and
ambitious woman. She, however, made the mistake of refusing Dhyan any
employment, and the ex-vizier soon organized a party sufficiently strong
to recall Sher Singh.
The ranee ordered the gates to be shut, but General Ventura ordered the
soldiers to open them, and the ranee fled. As soon as Sher Singh was
seated on the throne, he handed over the entire management of business
to Dhyan Singh, and gave himself up to hunting, and drinking, and other
pleasures. Dhyan was greatly offended at the conduct of the prince, who
owed his elevation to the throne to him, and endeavoured to persuade him
to act in a manner more worthy of his position, assuring him that the
Sikhs would never submit to be governed by a prince who neglected all
public affairs, and was habitually drunk. The prince was offended at
the remonstrances of his minister. His boon companions fanned the flame
of anger, and persuaded him while in a fit of drunkenness to sign an
order for the execution of Dhyan Singh. The latter, however, was kept
well informed by his agents in the mahurajah's household of what was
going on, and saw that his only hope of safety was in striking the first
blow. He therefore gave orders to Ajeet Singh that the rajah should be
killed. The officer was more rapid than the agents of Sher Singh, and
the latter was shot immediately, and his son was at the same time
murdered. Ajeet, however, either from disappointment at not receiving
from Dhyan a reward equal to his expectations, or from some other cause,
shot him in the back, and he fell dead a few hours after the murder of
the maharajah.
Heera Singh, Dhyan's son, a great favourite with the troops, knew that
the death of the maharajah had been determined upon by his father, and
had left the city and gone to the camp of General Avitabile, another of
the European officers of the Punjaub army. When the messenger arrived
with the news that his father too was dead, he was in the act of
haranguing the troops and preparing them for the news of the death of
Sher Singh. Heera ascended to the flat roof of Avitabile's house, and
sent messengers to all the sirdars who happened to be in Lahore, begging
them to come to him. On their arrival he unbuckled his sword and handed
it to them, saying, "I am left alone and fatherless, and I throw myself
on your protection. Either kill me or give me your support."
The sirdars at once declared that they would follow him. Heera then
harangued the soldiers, and offered them an increase of three rupees a
month in their pay if they would declare for him. Ventura and Avitabile
both espoused his cause, and with their troops marched against Lahore,
where Ajeet Singh had caused Dhuleep Singh, a child of four years old,
and the only lineal descendant of Runjeet left alive, to be proclaimed
maharajah, and himself vizier. It was night when Heera arrived in
Lahore. His guns blew open the Delhi gate of the town, and then a
desperate battle commenced in the streets. Both sides had artillery, and
the battle raged until the morning with terrible slaughter. Heera's
troops were victorious; the fort was stormed, and Ajeet killed by a
soldier as he tried to escape. Every man in the fort was killed and the
city given up to plunder, and horrible cruelties perpetrated upon the
connections and friends of Ajeet Singh.
Heera had no intention of grasping the dangerous position of maharajah,
and as soon as the fighting was over he went and saluted the child
Dhuleep as maharajah, assuming himself the position of prime minister
his father had occupied. This was in 1843. At that time the British
were occupied in conquering Gwalior, and the signal overthrow of the
Mahrattas on the fields of Maharajaypoor and Punniar served for the
moment to abate the eagerness of the army for a war against them. They
were, however, as usual, mutinous and clamorous for still further
increases in their pay, and the treasury at Lahore being empty, Heera
Singh had the greatest difficulty in complying with their demands, and
in order to do so he caused an uncle, who like Dhyan and Ghoolab had
amassed enormous possessions, to be murdered, and used his wealth as a
means of quieting the troops. These, however, soon advanced fresh
demands, and Heera being unable to satisfy them was murdered.
At his death Dhuleep Singh's mother appointed her brother Juwaheer as
vizier. The choice was not pleasing to the soldiers, who invaded the
palace and murdered him before the eyes of his sister and her child.
Ghoolab Singh, the last survivor of the three great brothers, was
invited to take the office of vizier, but he wisely declined the
dangerous post. His possessions were vast, and his power almost equal
to that of the ruler of the Punjaub. He was virtually supreme in all
the northern territories that had been conquered in the time of Runjeet,
and from his residence at Jummoo ruled over all Cashmere, together with
the country stretching up to the borders of Afghanistan.
He it was who was the mover in the intrigues against Colonel Groves.
One of the first demands made by the soldiers upon the accession of
Heera Singh to power had been the immediate dismissal of all the foreign
officers in his service, and greatly against his inclination, for he
knew that these men alone had the power of keeping the mutinous soldiery
in any degree of order, he had been forced to accede to it. Most of
them had left the country at once, knowing that murder would speedily
follow dismissal; but Colonel Groves having, since the death of Runjeet,
successfully defeated all attempts to turn him out of his governorship
and fortress, had determined to await the end, being sure that ere long
the hatred of the Sikhs against the British would bring about a war that
might entirely change the position.
It was a few months after Percy's arrival that Ghoolab refused to accept
the post of vizier.
"That is good news, uncle, is it not?" he asked, when a messenger
arrived bearing a letter containing the news, from a member of the court
at Lahore who was in the colonel's pay and interest.
"I don't know, Percy; I rather think it would have been better if he had
accepted the post. In the first place he would have had his hands so
full that he would not have had time to give much attention to my
affairs. Then if he had sent strong bodies of troops to attack this
place, as likely as not they would have said that they were being
sacrificed in his interest, and it would have been an occasion for a
fresh mutiny. And lastly, the viziership has of late been fatal to its
holders, and Ghoolab might have formed no exception, and I might have
been freed from my most dangerous enemy. Now he will be able to carry
on his intrigues from Jummoo without interruption. Since the death of
Runjeet his hands have been tied to a certain extent, first by his
brother Dhyan, and then by Heera being prime minister, and he had to
take care that no movement of his endangered their popularity or
position. Now that his two brothers and his nephew have gone, he need
consult only what he thinks is his own interest, and it is distinctly
his interest that his son should be governor of this district, which is
flourishing and capable of being squeezed to a large extent, and which
lies so close to his own territories."
"Is it only on account of this that he is your enemy, uncle?"
"No, the matter is of much longer standing. It began at one of the
battles against the Afghans. The sirdars and their troops commanded by
Ghoolab did very badly, and had it not been for the courage and
obstinacy of my three regiments and those of Portalis we should have
been defeated. Runjeet always managed to keep himself thoroughly well
acquainted with what was going on, and Ghoolab was for a time in
considerable disgrace, while very handsome presents were made to
Portalis and myself, and three months' pay given to each of our officers
and soldiers. I warned Portalis that Ghoolab would not forgive us, but
he was a little headstrong and scoffed at the danger. Three months
after, he fell by the knife of an assassin. He was a good comrade and
friend of mine, and was indeed the only man among the European officers
I really cared for, and I did not hesitate to denounce Ghoolab to
Runjeet in open durbar as the author of his assassination. Of course I
could not prove it, but the maharajah was certainly of my opinion, and
Ghoolab was ordered to go and live on his estates, and was for some
months in great disgrace.
"All my acquaintances warned me that I was throwing away my life by thus
venturing to denounce one of the all-powerful trio of brothers. But, as
you see, I have lived through it thus far. Still, it has only been by
the most unceasing caution and wariness. I have had at least a dozen
narrow escapes from assassination, and during the lifetime of Runjeet
Singh the intrigues against me were incessant; but the Old Lion knew
when he was well served, and stuck to me staunchly. He was, in the last
year of his life, compelled by the pressure brought upon him to sign my
dismissal, but he sent me a private note by the hands of a trusty
messenger. It contained only a few words. '_I am obliged to yield, but
there is no reason why you should do so. The sword should always
protect the head._' I was aware of what was going on at court, and had
already resolved to hold my governorship till the last. But I was very
glad to get the old man's note; he had been a kind and good master to
me, and I should not have liked to take action that might appear
rebellion against him. What others said or thought I did not care. Now
I had the Old Lion's approval, my conscience was perfectly easy.
"Ghoolab himself commanded the force that came to put his son in
possession, and the fact that he had to retire after losing some
hundreds of men, without accomplishing his object, did not, as you may
suppose, in any way diminish his feeling of unfriendliness towards me.
I get constant and accurate intelligence of what takes place at Jummoo,
and I know that I am constantly in his thoughts, and that denunciations
of me form one of his staple subjects of conversation among his
intimates. I need hardly tell you how great is the terror among the
inhabitants of my districts at the thoughts of falling into Ghoolab's
hands. The cruelty which he displayed in his conquest of Cashmere was
appalling, thousands of people being put to death by all forms of
torture. The trade of this district would be destroyed, the merchants
plundered, and under one excuse or other all private property would be
confiscated by him. Therefore I am well served. The traders have
naturally agents and correspondents all over the Punjaub, who inform
them of every rumour current, and these accounts are promptly
transmitted to me, so that I get the earliest possible intelligence of
every movement or intrigue as soon as it is set on foot, and no body of
men can be set in motion within a couple of hundred miles of this
fortress without my receiving news of it in the course of a day or two."
A few days later the colonel said when they met at breakfast: "There is
trouble coming, Percy. I have had a letter from my agents at Lahore,
saying that several of the _punches_--as the leaders of the soldiers are
called--have for the last day or two been loudly denouncing me, saying
that it is a disgrace to the Sikh nation that an insolent foreigner
should not only remain among them, but, in the teeth of his dismissal by
the ruler of Lahore, maintain himself by force of arms as the governor
of a district of the Punjaub. As the ranee has no vizier, and is
entirely helpless in the hands of the soldiers, there can be no doubt
that she will authorize an expedition against me, and will indeed be
glad to agree to a project which will remove a number of her insolent
soldiery from the city. The clamour for a war against the British grows
daily in strength, and most of the leading Sirdars are in this matter in
agreement with the troops, and the ranee cannot but think that it is
very much better that they should occupy themselves in an expedition
against a man in whom she has, of course, no interest, than embark in a
great war which may end by costing her infant son his kingdom."
"What are you going to do, uncle?"
The colonel shrugged his shoulders. "Sharpen my sword, see that the
guns are in good order, and overhaul our stock of ammunition. I feel
quite convinced that we can repel all attacks by a mutinous horde like
this, provided only that there is no treachery at work. That is our one
weak point."
"You have never found out yet, uncle, who it was sent Ghoolab the news
of my coming here?"
"No, I have no ground for suspicion against anyone. Nand Chund, and two
or three of the officers of whose fidelity I feel absolutely sure, have
been quietly trying to find out ever since you came here, but without
success. Azim Bund, my steward, has also been trying in other quarters,
but he too has altogether failed. Of course the traitor may be a member
of my household and not one of my officers; in that case his treachery
would be of little importance. Although by getting news of your coming
he might have struck me a heavy blow, in other respects he can tell them
nothing beyond the fact that I am alive and well, and very much on my
guard. He may give them the number of cannons I have got, the amount of
ammunition in stock, and the state of the food magazines, but the news
can give them no satisfaction and can do me no harm.
"It is altogether different if it is an officer. In every considerable
body of men there are a certain number who think they have a grievance
of some kind; they have either been punished unjustly, or think they
have been overlooked in promotion and that their services have not been
sufficiently recognized. In some it is merely the desire for a change
of any sort; and when the men know, as of course they do know, that the
soldiers of the army are enriching themselves both at the expense of the
government and of the population, they may feel dissatisfied with their
dull life and regular pay here. At any rate there must be many who
could be worked up by an astute rascal, and a gate thrown open, or a
rope-ladder lowered over the wall, might lay the place at the mercy of
our enemies. I have no fear whatever of this section being numerous
enough to get up anything like a formidable mutiny, but a party of only
twenty determined men might any night break their way in here and cut
all our throats long before the troops could come to our assistance,
might seize my wife's jewels and valuables, and make their escape by
means of a rope-ladder over the wall. That, I think, is the most
dangerous contingency. I always sleep with three brace of pistols
within reach of my hand, and you know I have warned you to keep arms by
your bedside; still, though we might sell our lives dearly, you may be
sure that the attack would not be made except by a force sufficient for
the purpose."
"Why don't you keep a strong guard in the house, uncle?"
"Because, my boy, I don't know who the traitors are. The officer in
command might be the very man himself, and he might so contrive it that
the guard was composed of men whom he had corrupted. Where should we be
then?"