CHAPTER XXIV.

HAVELOCK AT MOODKEE AND FEROZ-SHUHR.

Ir was on the 11th of December, 1845, that the Sikh troops crossed the Sutlej river, and flung themselves on the British territory. Grave historians tell us how the Khalsa, or Sikh Government, had been driven to this move by the appointment of George Broadfoot to the political charge of the provinces on their frontier, by his hostility to their nation, by the speeches of Sir Charles Napier, and by the upward movements of the GovernorGeneral and the Commander-in-Chief. But we need not go so far to seek a reason for the Sikh invasion.— The army of the old Lion of the Punjab, so carefully drilled, and so powerfully equipped, had taken affairs into its own keeping. These rough bold soldiers, revelling in the blood and treasure of one chief after another, and mistaking, naturally enough, the forbearance and mild demeanour of the English for fear, raised the cry of a British foray, and a march on Delhi. If they chose to cross the river to crush the small advanced post at Feroz-poor, and to rush down to plunder and occupy the rich provinces of Hindostan, who, they asked, was to

* Khalsa is of Arabic derivation, and has such original or secondary meanings as pure, special, free, &c. It is commonly used in India to denote the immediate territories of any chief or state, as distinguished from the lands of tributaries and feudal followers. It may mean either the saved or liberated, or the chosen people.—See Cunningham's Sikhs.

stop them? Treaties and agreements had expired with old Runjeet. The day had come for the Khalsa to enjoy its own, to ravage the protected states, and to drive the Feringees out of the country. The Affghans had beaten the English, and the Khalsa had beaten the Affghans.So Wah goorooji ka Futteh! Hurrah for the Gooroo! (Sikh teacher;) Victory and Delhi! was the cry.

And now, at last, the English chiefs accepted the Sikh challenge, and came boldly forward to drive back the invaders. From the pleasant hill cantonment of Subathoo, from the shady mountain tops of Kussowlie, from the forests of cedars and rhododendron around Simlah, down came the sturdy English soldiers and the hardy little Goorkas,* to join their comrades in the plains, horse, foot, and artillery, who, through clouds of dust, were hastening to the battle-field. From the cantonment of Umballa to the frontier station at Feroz-poor is a distance of one hundred and eighty miles. The army had marched one hundred and fifty of these in six days, through sand, across rivers and jungles; and the advanced force had, on the 18th of December, reached Moodkee, about twenty miles from Feroz-poor. The soldiers foot-sore, thirsty, and fasting, had marked out their camp, and were preparing their food, when in galloped a horseman with a hasty note from Broadfoot. The enemy was at hand, and the Sikh horsemen were moving on towards the English camp.

"The news,' said Havelock, produced the electric effect which it is apt to cause even in the breast of old

The Goorka belongs to the ruling and military tribe in Nepaul. Short of stature, with high cheek-bones and merry twinkling little eyes, the Goorka soldier is invaluable. Hardy, active, brave, fond of shooting and fishing, he is a sort of miniature edition of the best style of Scotch Highlander. And in one respect he is superior, inasmuch as he is not so fond of strong drink.

soldiers at the opening of a campaign. How thrilling then the sensation in the hearts of novices! The ideas are wonderfully concentrated, and visions of glory and of slaughter, of distant home and its endearments, of duty sternly performed and nobly rewarded, of wounds, death, and-of judgment, pass rapidly through the brain.'

The moment had come when all these grave considerations must merge in the one simple idea of duty. The soldiers spring to their arms. The brave old chief, and Havelock, leaving their late breakfast, mount their chargers and ride to the front. And then came the first conflict between the English and the Sikhs. The cavalry and horse-artillery, advancing on either flank, began the engagement. The enemy's horse were driven back, but the well-trained artillery of Runjeet stood, and replied steadily to the British fire. The Sikh infantry, disciplined under such men as Allard, Court, and Ventura, proved, in one instance at least, superior to the Englishtrained Sepoy, and Havelock was sent by the Commanderin-Chief to bring back a native regiment which had turned to the rear. He succeeded in his attempt, after plying the Sepoys with the grim joke that the Sikhs were in their front, and not behind them. Havelock had two horses shot under him, and his friend Major Broadfoot, on giving him a second remount, observed, It is not much use to give you horses, for you are sure to lose them.'

As the shades of evening drew on, the Sikh infantry battalions sullenly withdrew. Their cavalry had already been driven into the jungle in disorder. The English had gained the field of Moodkee,* had driven back the enemy, and captured several pieces of artillery.

The English took about 11,000 men into the field, and lost 215 killed, and 657 wounded. Among the slain was Sir Robert Sale,

But the eyes of Hardinge and Gough were already opened to the fact, that, for the first time in their Indian career, the English had to contend with a foe equal to themselves in courage, and superior to most of their native soldiers in stability. Some sixty thousand of these stout Sikhs had crossed the river, and it was plain enough that it would require a heavy blow to drive them back. Sir Henry Hardinge was equal to the occasion. Waiving his rank as Governor-General, he gallantly placed himself under the military command of Sir Hugh Gough, and the two veterans took council how best to drive back the invader.

I have no taste for the mere description of battles. But the struggle between the English and Sikh army at this hour was remarkable, because it was mortal. If the Khalsa could overpower the small English army, if they could even cut through that thin red line, Hindostan was at their feet, and there was nothing to stop them from Delhi to Calcutta. On the events of the next few days hung the fate of India. On one side was ranged order, civilisation, I may almost say, Christianity itself; on the other, anarchy and rapine. To the God of battles was the appeal, and unless He stretched out His hand to save and defend, the days of the English in India were numbered.

The situation of the rival forces was thus. The English, with their backs turned on Hindostan, were familiarly known as Fighting Bob, and in these pages as the Hero of Jellalabad. The guns taken from the enemy were at least seventeen in number. The enemy numbered, according to the writer in the Calcutta Review (the late Sir Henry Lawrence, I believe), above 30,000 men. Amongst the regiments in action were the 3rd Dragoons, and the 31st and 50th Foot. On the day after the fight, the 29th Foot and Company's 1st European Light Infantry came up.

U

halting on the field of Moodkee for a day, to allow regiments one march in the rear time to join the main force. Before them, ten miles towards the right, was the camp, enclosing the village of Feroz-shuhr, in which the Sikhs, under Lall Singh, had strongly entrenched themselves. Towards the left, at a distance of some ten miles from the Sikh entrenchment, was the English post of Feroz-poor, with 5,000 men under Sir John Littler. It was determined that the English forces should march out from their respective positions on the 21st of December, and make a combined attack on the Sikh entrenchment.

The junction of the two armies was happily accomplished. Time was precious. The English forces moved forward to the attack, Sir Hugh Gough commanding the right wing, Sir Henry Hardinge the left. It soon became evident that the light field-guns of the English were as playthings when compared with the heavy siege-cannon, which poured a storm of fire from the Sikh entrenchment. To silence, or even to check, the enemy's fire was hopeless. It remained for the devoted brigades under Gough and Hardinge to carry the batteries at the bayonet's point. The 62nd regiment, after losing seven officers and seventy-six men within fifty paces of the entrenchment, was beaten back -beaten, but not in the eye of candour disgraced.' On every side of the Sikh position the storm raged until night set in. At some points the English had made good their entrance, at others they still wrestled with. their foe. Even amidst the darkness, the Sikh artillerymen watched for a gleam which might serve to discover their hated enemy. Explosions and partial cannonades went on all night. Sir Henry Hardinge passed from group to group, with a cheery word for each. But he