Upon resuming his march the colonel divided the infantry into three bodies of equal strength. The first, which was accompanied by the guns, was to move by the path straight up the hill; the others, between whom the cavalry force was divided, were to ascend it a few hundred yards to the right and left of the central column, so as to flank the village on either side. For a time the enemy kept up a fire from the brow of the hill, but this died away as the troops, pressing rapidly forward, neared them, and in a short time the top of the hill was gained. The village stood a quarter of a mile away. It was surrounded by a high wall, above which could be seen the tower of the chief's fortalice.
"These little four-pounders will not be of much good in breaching that wall," the colonel said. "We must attack by the gate and batter that down. Percy, do you ride round to the column on the left, and see if there is any gate on that side. Do you, Nand Chund, do the same on the right. If there are gates there I will send some of the camel guns to try and beat them down. If they can't do it the gates must be blown in, there are men with powder-bags in each column. Let the cavalry work round behind the village, and see what the ground is like there. It looked to me as if it broke away on that side. If there are no gates in the side walls, let the right column move round to assist the cavalry to cut off the enemy's retreat. Let the infantry of the left column join us here for the attack on this gate. The fellows are evidently in strong force."
Indeed the wall was fringed with smoke, and the bullets were pattering round thick and fast. The men, however, had at once been placed in shelter behind a stone wall, and remained inactive for half an hour. When Percy and Nand Chund rode back within a minute or two of each other, their reports were similar. There were no gates in the side walls, while behind the wall on the other side there was a deep precipitous ravine, with but a few feet between its upper edge and the wall. The colonel gave the order that fifty of the infantry should remain on either side to fire down into the ravine as the enemy retired across it, and the rest should join him. The cavalry were to take post just out of fire on both flanks, to cut off any fugitives who might drop from the walls, and endeavour to escape from the top of the hill.
The time had not been lost, for the four mountain guns had kept up a steady fire at the gates in front, which were, when the two bodies of infantry came up, already torn and splintered, one of them being evidently thrown off its hinges. Then two of the companies advanced through the inclosures in skirmishing order, and when within fifty yards of the wall opened fire at its defenders, aided by the whole of the guns. After waiting for five minutes to allow the fire to have its effect, the colonel gave the word and the column ran forward towards the gate. A heavy fire was opened through the broken planks.
"Don't wait to return it," the colonel, who was riding at the head of column, shouted. "Throw yourselves against the gate, your weight will burst it down."
With a cheer the men rushed on, and as they reached the gate there was a crash. The shattered gate fell, and they poured into the village.
The resistance was slight, for as soon as the column began to advance the fire from the wall had suddenly ceased. Ten or twelve men were shot or bayoneted at the gates, but as the troops spread through the village they met with no more antagonists. The doors of the houses stood open, but the hearths were cold, and the women and children had evidently been sent away early in the morning. As soon as he entered the gate and saw that resistance was over, the colonel shouted to the men behind to follow him, and rode straight through the village for the gate behind. He was, however, only in time to see the last of a crowd of men hurrying out through it; but an outbreak of firing both to the right and left showed that the parties posted there were harassing the fugitives in their retreat.
As soon as the men behind him came up he led them through the gate, bade them spread along the edge of the ravine and to open fire on the tribesmen, parties of whom were already beginning to mount the opposite side of the ravine. The fire was maintained with considerable effect until all were out of range, then the various detachments were called in by the sound of the bugle, and the troops ordered to cook a meal. While this was being done a thorough search was made through the village. In the chief's tower a considerable quantity of gunpowder was found stored, and as soon as the troops had finished their dinner fire was applied to every house in the village, and a length of fuse thrust into the powder. As they marched out through the gates by which the enemy had retreated, there was a heavy explosion, and the tower fell in ruins. They then moved towards the next village, in which direction the enemy had retreated. They crossed the ravine, and then kept along a valley to the foot of the hill on which the village stood. The ground was covered with scrub and bush, and they were half-way up when there was a tremendous yell, and on either side a great number of half-naked figures sprang up, poured in a volley of matchlock balls, arrows, and spears, and then flung themselves upon the column.
Against younger troops the sudden assault might have been successful, 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?"
"But you might appoint Nand Chund to be always officer of the guard?"
"Constable of the palace—eh, Percy?"
"Well, you might call him what you like, uncle, but surely he would be able to pick out a dozen men of whose fidelity he was assured. The duty would not be severe, they would only have to furnish the two sentries at the door, instead of these being sent from one or other of the regiments."
"I will think of it, Percy. Just at present there is less ground for fear than usual, for if an expedition is on foot to attack us openly, such a plot as this would most certainly be delayed until there was a force outside where the conspirators could betake themselves after carrying their designs into execution. The fact that, even were they successful, they would certainly be pursued, and for the most part hunted down and slaughtered by the cavalry, has, no doubt, been one of the reasons why no such attempt as that we are talking of has been made long ago."
"Well, I do hope that when an army approaches you do what Percy suggests," Mahtab, who had been listening silently to the conversation, said to her husband. "You have escaped so many times, Roland, that you have come to think that no attempt against your life will ever succeed, and certainly it is likely that Ghoolab, while organizing an open assault upon you, will take measures to secure his aim being carried out in other ways if possible."
"Very well, wife; you may consider it settled that on the day when an attacking force crosses the boundary of the province, Nand Chund shall be installed as chief of a special bodyguard here."