saw the gravity of the situation. Another such action,' said he to Havelock, will shake the empire.'*

In a private letter to Sir Robert Peel, the GovernorGeneral called this night the most extraordinary of his life.' During the long hours of darkness, no man could say with whom the victory lay. One bruised, battered, and exhausted division of the army rallied round Gough and Hardinge as the morning dawned. Well might the Governor-General call that night extraordinary; but still more extraordinary was the day which followed it.

The Sikhs, in their entrenched camp, had inflicted immense loss on the English. But they had suffered heavily themselves. The position, which they supposed to be impregnable, had been in part stormed; the river was not far in their rear; and, worse than all, they had in Lall Singh a leader whom they despised. Insubordination was their usual state, and insubordination during the long hours of that night grew into mutiny, plunder, and desertion. So it required but a small effort for the English, on the morning of the 22nd, to sweep the Sikh camp, whilst the enemy were in full run before them.† The line then halted as if on a day of manœuvre, receiving its two leaders as they rode

*The loss of the English army in this tremendous struggle was as follows:

Amongst the slain were fifty-four officers. George Broadfoot, after being severely wounded, and entreated by the Governor-General to retire, was shot down at Hardinge's side, who sorrowfully recorded, 'He was second to none in this accomplished service. . . . . I never can replace him.' Havelock thought him, both as a soldier and statesman, the ablest man in India; and in his death deplored also the loss of his dearest friend.

† Calcutta Review.

along its front with a gratifying cheer, and displaying the captured standards of the Khalsa army.*

So far all seemed well with the English. But the day was not yet won. They had gone through perils almost too great for human endurance-they had hurled flesh and blood against fire and steel; but a still more severe trial was imminent.

The

When Sir John Littler marched out of Feroz-poor, to join the Governor-General in the attack upon Ferozshuhr, he had left behind him Sirdar Tej Singh, the generalissimo of the Sikh forces, with a powerful army encamped opposite to the British cantonments. Sikhs, as we have already seen, would fight like tigers to defend a fortified place. They would act brilliantly as irregulars in the open plain. But to march, as Gough and Hardinge had done, against walls bristling with cannon, was not their custom. Therefore Tej Singh, leaving Feroz-poor unmolested, moved on the morning of the 22nd towards Feroz-shuhr, to share, as he supposed, in the glories of a victory over the Feringees. No sooner had the English scattered divisions united on the morning of the 22nd of December-no sooner had they swept the enemy from the entrenched post of Feroz-shuhr, than a cloud of dust from the direction of Feroz-poor announced the approach of another army. It was soon known that Sirdar Tej Singh, with a fresh and powerful force, outnumbering the English as three to one, was moving down to begin a fresh encounter. Our countrymen could have forgotten the toil of the preceding day, the bivouac on the cold sand, the two days' fast, the havoc of the late battle. They could have struggled on through all this with the spirit of their nation. But when seventy or eighty well-served cannon * See Official Dispatches.

were brought to bear upon their ranks, whilst their own artillery was silent, their position was desperate indeed. Yet such was their situation. One single round, out of three hundred rounds for each gun taken into action at Moodkee-one single round of ammunition was not on the tumbrils. All had been expended in the deadly struggles of the last few days; and the guns were, for all warlike purposes, as useless as so many hackneycoaches. Tej Singh began a heavy fire on the left flank of the British; but, our artillery ammunition being completely expended in these protracted combats, we were unable to answer him with a single shot.'* Such then was the crisis.

6

The Governor-General, the Commander-in-Chief, the army of England, stood in that field, if not like lambs to be slaughtered, like corn to be cut down at the pleasure of the reaper. The word was passed to prepare for the worst; they would sell their lives dearly, but no intelligent man could doubt that their last hour was come. Here, almost visibly, the God of battles intervened. All at once, nobody knows why, the Sikh host turned their backs on the English, and marched slowly off the field.

Thirty thousand fresh troops, with from seventy to eighty cannon and fifty camel-guns, retreat before thirteen thousand hungry weary soldiers without one serviceable cannon! To those who know the power of old Runjeet's guns, and the importance which Asiatic soldiers justly attach to artillery, the whole affair is only to be resolved by adopting Havelock's words, India has been again saved by a miracle!'

* See Official Despatch by Sir Hugh Gough.

CHAPTER XXV.

LIFE OF HAVELOCK—continued.

I HAVE already said that amongst the brave Englishmen who fell in these battles was Sir Robert Sale, one of Havelock's most intimate friends. Another old friend and commander, Sir Harry Smith, now came prominently to the front. The Sikh soldiers, who after the Battle of Feroz-shuhr had hurried back to their own side of the Sutlej, began to recross that river, and to threaten once again the English communications. Sir Harry Smith was sent to drive them back. After a damaging rencontre with the enemy on January 20, 1846, at Buddiwal, a fair and open fight took place a few days later. The Battle of Aliwal came off on January 28, and was a complete success for the British. The Sikhs were hurled back and driven into the River Sutlej, which, unfortunately for them, flowed in their rear. Their dead bodies floated down the stream, and choked up the bridge which their comrades had thrown across the river a few miles lower, at Sobraon. Fifty-six guns were taken by the English, and the victory was in every sense complete. The wily Cashmere prince, Golab Singh-who, on hearing of the failure of the English at Bhuddowal, had almost decided to join his fortunes to those of the Khalsa-paused when he heard of Sir Harry's victory, and began to negotiate with the conquerors.

It remained for the English with one tremendous blow to drive the Sikhs from the left bank of the Sutlej. These proud invaders had dared our power now for some two months. Hardinge and Gough had set their faces towards Lahore; but the Khalsa army still stood in their front at Sobraon, and disputed the passage of the river. The English must break and disperse this force before they could make one step in advance. Havelock was once again to take his part in a critical battle-in a battle on which the fate of British India would once again depend.

On the morning of February 10 the English army advanced. The Sikhs had fortified positions on either side of the river, and had joined these posts by a floating bridge of boats. After a short but mortal. struggle, they were sent flying across the river; the bridge was broken, and thousands were driven pell-mell into the Sutlej. The stream had risen seven inches in the night, and the fort was flooded. Hundreds fell under a furious cannonade, as they struggled vainly to reach the farther bank. Thousands were swept away in the torrents of the river. In a few hours not a living Sikh remained on the British side of the Sutlej.

Thus, with bitter discomfiture and heavy loss to the invaders, ended the Sikh invasion of British India.

Havelock had been, as usual, in the thick of the fight. A ball struck the saddle-cloth within an inch of his leg; his charger fell dead, but his own life was preserved for deeds and dangers still far ahead.

The Country of the Five Rivers was now at the mercy of the English, who, with 22,000 soldiers and 100 pieces of cannon, marched proudly to Lahore, and on February 20 encamped on the plain of Meean Meer.