Camp, March 29th, 1848.

Of incidents to amuse you I have not many to narrate, save the usual "moving" ones by "flood and field." On the 18th I was very nearly becoming a damp unpleasant corpse to celebrate my birthday. In attempting a ford, my horse sank up to the girths in a quicksand. I managed to extricate myself and, dry land being near, he got up without damage. Sending a man ahead, I tried again in another place. Here it was fair to the eye but false to the foot. Down he went again, this time in deeper water, and got me under him by struggling. However, I realized the old proverb, and escaped with a good ducking and a mouthful of my native element, rather gritty. Next I tried a camel, but the brute went down at the first stride. So giving it up in despair, I put on dry clothes, and then waded through the river.

Not content with one attempt on my existence, the horse gave me a violent kick the same evening when I went up to him to ask "How d'ye do." So I completed my year, in spite of myself, as it were.

Lahore, April 2d.

Since the above was written, I have succeeded in reaching the metropolis, as you see, at a greater expenditure of animal heat and fatigue than I have gone through for some time. I was very friendlily and pleasantly greeted by Sir F. and Lady Currie, and tumbled at once again into the tide of civilization—loaf bread, arm-chairs, hats, and ladies—as philosophically as if I had been for months in the calm and unrestrained enjoyment of such luxuries.

On my arrival, I found that the arrangement proposed in Sir F. Currie's note had already become matter of history, not of fact. The new one is still better for me. I am to remain at Lahore, and be an assistant to the Resident, having my Guide duties to discharge also, when Lumsden arrives from Peshawur with the Corps. He is expected in twenty days. Nothing could possibly have been better for me. I shall have the advantage of learning in the best school, head-quarters, and have many more opportunities of making myself "generally useful." I am most rejoiced at the plan, and Sir F. Currie's considerate kindness in devising it. We wont say anything of the regularity or consistency of making a man of two and a half year's service, and who has passed no examination, a political officer, nor will we be ungrateful enough to say that he is unfit for the appointment, but that he should do his utmost to show that the rule is more honored "in the breach than in the observance."

Residency, Lahore, April 16th, 1848.

I shall not have the same variety to chronicle now that I seem to be fixed here, but more interest and a higher style of work. Since I wrote last I have been six hours a day employed in court, hearing petitions and appeals in all manner of cases, civil and criminal, and in matters of revenue, as there are but two officers so employed. You, perhaps, will comprehend that the duty is no sinecure. It is of vast importance, and I sometimes feel a half sensation of modesty coming over me at being set down to administer justice in such matters so early, and without previous training. A little practice, patience, and reflection settle most cases to one's satisfaction, however; and one must be content with substantial justice as distinguished from technical law. In any point of difficulty one has always an older head to refer to, and meantime, one has the satisfaction of knowing that one is independent and untrammelled save by a very simple code. Some things, such as sentencing a man to imprisonment for seven years for killing a cow, are rather startling to one's ideas of right and wrong; but then to kill a cow is to break a law, and to disturb the public peace—perhaps cause bloodshed; so the law is vindicated, and one's conscience saved. I have many other duties, such as finishing my map, for which I was surveying at Deenanuggur; occasionally translating an official document; going to Durbars, &c.; and when the Guides arrive (on the 20th) I shall have to assist in drilling and instructing them; to say nothing of seeing that their quarters are prepared, and everything ready for them. I am not, therefore, idle, and only wish I had time to read.

I mentioned to you that Sir F. Currie's plan of sending me to assist Agnew at Mooltan had been altered, and that Anderson had gone with him in my stead. At the time I was disposed to be disappointed; but we never know what is for our good. In this case I should doubtless have incurred the horrible fate of poor Anderson and Agnew. Both these poor fellows have been barbarously murdered by the Mooltan troops.

The Sikh Durbar profess their inability to coerce their rebel subject, who is rapidly collecting a large army, and strengthening himself in the proverbially strong fort of Mooltan.

One cannot say how it will end. The necessary delay of five months, till after the rains, will give time for all the disaffected to gather together, and no one can say how far the infection may extend. The Sikhs were right in saying, "We shall have one more fight for it yet."

Lahore, May 7th.

I expect to be busy in catching a party of rascals who have been trying to pervert our Sepoys by bribes and promises. We have a clue to them, and hope to take them in the act. We are surrounded here with treachery. No man can say who is implicated, or how far the treason has spread. The life of no British officer, away from Lahore, is worth a week's purchase. It is a pleasant sort of government to prop up, when their head-men conspire against you and their troops desert you on the slightest temptation.

Lumsden, the commandant of the Guides, and I want something sensible for the protection of our heads from sun and blows, from coups de soleil equally with coups d'ÉpÉe. There is a kind of leathern helmet in the Prussian service which is light, serviceable, and neat. Will you try what you can do in the man-millinery line, and send me a brace of good helmets? We don't want ornament; in fact, the plainer the better, as we should always wear a turban over them, but strong, and light as a hat. I have no doubt your taste will be approved. I hope this wont be a bore to you, but one's head wants protecting in these stormy days.

Many thanks for the trouble you have taken about the clothing for the Guides. Sir C. Napier says they are the only properly dressed light troops he has seen in India.

Camp, Deenanuggur, June 5th, 1848.

You will hardly have been prepared to hear that I am once more on the move, rushing about the country, despite climate, heat, and rumors (the most alarming).

I wrote last the day after our successful capture of the conspirators, whom I had the satisfaction of seeing hung three days later. I then tried a slight fever as a variety for two days; and on the 14th started to "bag" the Ranee in her abode beyond the Ravee, she having been convicted of complicity in the designs of the conspirators. Lumsden and myself were deputed by the Resident to call on her, and intimate that her presence was urgently required. A detachment was ordered out to support us, in case any resistance should be offered. Fortunately it was not required, as the Ranee complied at once with our "polite" request to come along with us. Instead of being taken to Lahore, as she expected, we carried her off to Kana Kutch, on the Ferozepoor road, where a party of Wheeler's Irregulars had been sent to receive her. It was very hard work—a long night march to the fort, and a fourteen hours' ride across to Kana Kutch, whence I had two hours' gallop into Lahore to report progress, making sixteen hours in the saddle, in May, when the nights are hot. On the next Sunday night I was off again, to try and seize or disperse a party of horse and foot collected by a would-be holy man, Maharaja Singh, said to amount to four or five hundred. I made a tremendous march round by Umritsur, Byrowal-Ghat, on the Beas, and up that river's bank to Mokeria, in the Jullundur DoÂb, whence I was prepared to cross during the night with a party of cavalry, and attack the rascals unawares. Everything succeeded admirably up to the last, when I found that he had received notice from a rogue of a native magistrate that there would be attempts made to seize him, when he fairly bolted across the Ravee, and is now infesting the DoÂb between that river and the Chenab. I have scoured this part of the country (which my late surveys enabled me to traverse with perfect ease) got possession of every boat on the Ravee from Lahore to the Hills, placed horsemen at every ferry, and been bullying the people who supplied the Saint with provisions and arms. I have a regiment of Irregular Horse (Skinner's) with me, and full powers to summon more, if necessary, from the Jullundur DoÂb. Meantime, a party from Lahore are sweeping round to intercept the fellow, who is getting strong by degrees; and I am going to dash across at midnight with a handful of cavalry, and see if I cannot beat up the country between this and Wuzeerabad. I am very well, hard at work, and enjoying the thing very much. I imagine this will be the sort of life we shall lead about once a week till the Punjaub is annexed. Every native official has fraternized with the rebels he was ordered to catch.

Lahore, July 5th, 1848.

I wrote last from Deenanuggur, on the eve of crossing the Ravee to look after the Gooroo, Maharaja Singh. I remained in the Rechnab DoÂb some days, hunting up evidence and punishing transgressors.

I was very fairly successful in obtaining information of the extent of the conspiracy, which has been keeping the whole country in a ferment these two months past. All that has occurred is clearly traceable to the Ranee (now happily deported) and her friends, and has been carried out with a fearful amount of the blackest treachery and baseness. There have been stirring events since I wrote last. Twice within a fortnight has Herbert Edwardes fought and defeated the Mooltan rebels in pitched battles, and has succeeded, despite of treacherous foes and doubtful friends, in driving them into the fort of Mooltan. His success has been only less splendid than the energy and courage which he has shown throughout, especially that high moral courage which defies responsibility, risks, self-interest, and all else, for the good of the State, and which, if well directed, seems to command fortune and ensure success. I have been longing to be with him, though after my wonderfully narrow escape of being murdered with poor Agnew at Mooltan, I may well be content to leave my movements in other hands. I was summoned into Lahore suddenly (as usual!) to take command of the Guides and charge of Lumsden's duties for him, as he had been sent down the river towards Bhawulpoor. I came in the whole distance (one hundred miles), with bag and baggage, in sixty hours, which, considering that one can't travel at all by day, and not more than four miles an hour by night, required a great amount of exertion and perseverance. It is strange that the natives always knock up sooner than we do on a march like this. The cavalry were nine days on the road, and grumbled then! I know few things more fatiguing than when exhausted by the heat of the day, to have to mount at nightfall, and ride slowly throughout the night, and for the two most disagreeable hours of a tropical day, viz: those after sunrise. One night, on which I was making a longer march than usual, had a fearful effect on a European regiment moving upon Ferozepoor, the same hot night-wind, which had completely prostrated me for the time, fell upon the men as they halted at a well to drink; they were fairly beaten, and lay down for a few minutes to pant. When they arose to continue their march, a captain and nine or ten men were left dead on the ground! It was the simoom of Africa in miniature. I have happily escaped fever or sickness of any kind, and have nothing to complain of but excessive weakness. Quinine will, I trust, soon set me up again.

Lahore, Sept. 3d, 1848.

We have had stirring times lately, though I personally have had little share in them. Mooltan is at last invested, and we expect daily to hear of its fall. Meanwhile, a new outbreak has occurred in HuzÀra, a wild hilly region on the left bank of the Indus, above Attok, where one of the powerful Sirdars has raised the standard of revolt.

I suppose I may say to you at so great a distance, what I must not breathe here, that it is now morally certain that we have only escaped, by what men call chance and accidents, the effects of a general and well-organized conspiracy against British supremacy in Upper India. Our "ally" Gholab Singh, the creature of the treaty of 1848, the hill tribes, the whole Punjaub, the chiefs of Rajpootana, and the states round UmbÂla and KurnÀl, and even the King of Cabul, I believe, have been for months and months securely plotting, without our having more than the merest hints of local disturbances, against the supremacy of the British Government. They were to unite for one vast effort, and drive us back upon the Jumna. This was to be again the boundary of British India. The rising in Mooltan was to be the signal. All was prepared, when a quarrel between Moolraj and the treacherous khan, Singh MÁn, who was sent to commence the war, spoilt their whole scheme. The proud Rajpoot, Gholab Singh, refused to follow in the wake of a Mooltan merchant, and the merchant would not yield to the soldier. We have seen the mere ebullitions of the storm, the bubbles which float at the surface. I believe that now we are safe from a general rising, and that the fall of Mooltan will put a stop to mischief. If, however, our rulers resort again to half measures, if a mutinous army is retained in existence, the evil day will return again. Absolute supremacy has been, I think, long demonstrated to be our only safety among wild and treacherous races. Moderation, in the modern sense, is the greatest of all weakness.

Sept. 18th, 1848.

You will have seen that our troops have been hard at it in Mooltan, and now I have to tell you that it has all been in vain; Rajah Shere Singh, and the whole of our worthy Sikh allies, have joined the rebel Moolraj, and General Whish has been compelled to raise the siege and retire.

I have just dispatched every available Guide to try and get quietly into the far-famed fort of Govindghur, and hope in a few hours to hear of their success. They have forty friends inside, and only a few score wavering enemies. I have not a moment which I can call my own, and have put off this (which is merely an assurance that I am alive and very well) to the last moment, so as to give you the latest tidings. I am all agog at the prospect of stirring times, and the only single drawback is the fear that you all will be very anxious. I shall not, however, run my head unnecessarily into a scrape, and see no cause for your frightening yourselves.

One comfort is, that the farce of native government has been played out. It was an experiment honestly tried, and as honestly a failure.

My Guides have covered themselves with glory (and dust) by the way in which they got into, and got possession of, the famed fort of Govindghur. A hundred of my men, under a native officer—a fine lad of about twenty, whom I have petted a good deal—went up quietly to the gates, on pretence of escorting four State prisoners, (whom I had put in irons for the occasion,) were allowed to get in, and then threw up their caps, and took possession of the gateway, despite the scowls, and threats, and all but open resistance of the Sikh garrison. A day afterwards a regiment marched from Lahore, and went into garrison there, and so Runjeet Singh's treasure-fort is fairly in our hands.

Nov. 1st, 1848.

I left Lahore—but stay, I must get there first. Well, I wrote from Ramnuggur, on the Chenab, last; whence, after a fruitless sÉjour of six days, in the vain hope of meeting Mrs. George Lawrence, I returned suddenly to Lahore by an order which reached me the evening of the 5th. I started at sunset, and pushing my way on various borrowed steeds across that dreary region during the night, accompanied by a single camel-rider, I reached Lahore, a distance of seventy miles, by nine the following morning.

On the 8th I was off again at daybreak on a longer journey still, having to cross the country to Brigadier Wheeler's camp in the Jullundur DoÂb, to convey orders to him relative to the reduction of two rebellious forts in the DoÂb, between the Ravee and Beas. A "grind" of some twenty-six hours on camel-back, with the necessary stoppages, took me to the camp, whence (because I had not had enough) I recrossed the Beas the same night, after examining and reporting on the state of the ferries by which the troops were to follow me. This time I was escorted by a troop of Irregular Horse, and being thereby, according to my estimation of Sikh prowess, rendered tolerably independent, I marched the next morning for the fort of Rungur Nuggul, some fourteen miles from the right bank of the Beas.

On approaching it, and the village which covered one side of it, I was welcomed by a discharge of matchlocks, &c., as a sort of bravado, which served to point out exactly the range of my friends' pieces. I lost no time in getting the horsemen into a secure position (which means, one equally good for fighting or running away), and advanced under shelter of the trees and sugar-canes to within easy distance of the fort. Hence I dispatched a message to the rebels, to say that if they did not come to reason within an hour, they should have no choice but that between cold steel or the gallows. The hour elapsed without result, so mentally consigning the garrison to annihilation, I set to work to reconnoitre the ground round the fort. This accomplished—with no further interruption than a shower of unpleasant bullets when I ventured too near—I sat down, and drew a little pencil plan of the ground and fort, dispatched a trooper with it to the Brigadier, and then retired to a little village about a mile off for the night. Another day and night passed in this precarious fashion, without (as is my usual fate), servants, clothes, or traps, until at length my own men (Guides) arrived from Lahore with my baggage and horses. I could now muster a hundred rifles, and eighty horsemen, so we set to work to invest the place, being the only way to render the escape of the rebels difficult or impossible. The fort, though very small, was immensely strong, and well garrisoned with desperadoes, and we had sharp work of it during the two nights and day which elapsed before the Brigadier[7] appeared with his troops. By keeping my men scattered about in parties, under cover, the superiority of their weapons enabled them to gall the defenders of the fort whenever they showed their heads, day or night; and whenever they made a sally they got driven back with the loss of one or two of their companions. At last the Brigadier appeared, pounded the place with his guns during the day, and let the garrison escape at night. Then came the bore of destroying the empty fort, a work which consumed a week of incessant labor, and forty-one mines loaded with an aggregate of 8,000 pounds of powder. Having destroyed house, fort, stables, and everything, and removed the grain and property, we at length moved on to a second fort, called "Morara," about a mile from the left bank of the Ravee, near this place. I cannot now go into details of the second failure of the Brigadier in attempting to punish the rebels, for they bolted before he fired a shot, nor of my attempts to prevent their escape. I have had loads of work, what with soldiering, providing supplies for the force, and all the multifarious duties which come on the shoulders of a "political" out here. I am quite well, and the weather is lovely, so work is easy comparatively, and an active life like this is, as you know, my particular weakness. I hope to cross the Ravee in a few days with the troops collecting to punish the rebel (or patriot) Sikh army. We want Sir C. Napier sadly. What with the incapacity shown at Mooltan, and the dilatory proceedings at head-quarters, our reputation is suffering cruelly, and every one knows that that is a stain only to be dyed out in blood. Every week's delay adds thousands to our present foes and future victims.

Deenanuggur, Dec. 4th, 1848.

You must not suppose that because I have written twice from this place that therefore I have been here all the time. On the contrary, I have been incessantly on the move. So much so as to have pretty nearly established a claim to the medal for discovering perpetual motion. I have been moving in an orbit whose gyrations have been confined to a space bounded by the Chenab and the Beas, and a line drawn E. and W. through Umritsur and Lahore. Nearly the whole of this vast "track" of country has been under my sole charge. I have had also to feed an army daily of 3,000 odd fighting men, 2,000 odd horses, and 14,000 to 15,000 camp followers. Also to take care of and work my Guides; to point out the haunts and obtain information of the strength of "the enemy," and give him over to the tender mercies of fire and sword; item, to fight him personally; item, to destroy six forts, and sell by auction the property therein found; item, to be civil to all comers; item, to report all the said doings daily to Government; item, to march ten to twenty miles a day at a slow pace; item, to eat, drink, dress, and sleep, to rest one's self from all these labors. In the above compendious epitome of the work of that much-abused and ill-used class called "politicals" in India, you will, I trust, observe no vacant places or "hiati" in which you would expect to see inscribed, "item, to write to one's friends." No; one is a white slave, and no mistake; day and night, early or late, week-day or Sunday, one is the slave of the public, or rather of the Government, to a degree which cannot be credited until it is experienced. The departure of Brigadier Wheeler across the Beas, and therefore out of my beat, has made a slight break in the work, but there is still more than I can get through in the day. I am grinding my teeth all the time at being kept away from the scene of what must be the grand struggle between the cow-killers and cow-worshippers on the banks of the Chenab.

On the 8th of last month I marched hence to overtake Brigadier Wheeler and his troops, and accompany them across the Ravee. On reaching the river, I represented to the Brigadier "who of course does not know friend from foe until he is told," the urgent necessity of attacking a party of insurgents who were within fourteen miles of us, but could not persuade him to do so. The old gentleman was intent on pushing on to the main army, flattering himself he was going to command a division of it. When within twenty-five or thirty miles of the head-quarter camp at Ramnuggur, I rode over to Lahore, and talked to Sir F. Currie, who was just dispatching an express to me about these very people we had left unattacked two days before. He sent me off there and then to see the Commander-in-Chief, who was very polite; asked my opinion "and acted on it too!"; told me all his plans for carrying on the war; and on my telling him the facts of the case, sent an order to the Brigadier to retrace his steps, and attack the party he had passed by at once, with something very like a rap over the knuckles. After a delay of some days, caused by a sudden counter summons to move to reinforce Campbell,[8] who was vainly expecting that the Singhs would fight, we at length turned back for KulÁllwÁla, the name of the fort occupied by my friends. We got within twenty-five miles of it on the 20th, and I urged the Brigadier to move on like lightning, and crush them. He would not, and began to make short marches, so I was compelled to out-manoeuvre him by a bold stroke. On the morning of the 21st I left his camp, and pushed on some ten miles to a place on the straight road for KulÁllwÁla. Here was a fort belonging to a doubtful Sirdar, and I determined to get possession of it if possible. I had with me only 100 men, and the enemy was only eight miles off with 4,000—rabble, to be sure, and fellows who have no heart for fighting; but the odds were great, and it was necessary to put a bold face on matters. I therefore "boned" the Chief's two confidential servants, who were in his dwelling-house outside the fort, and taking one on each side of me, walked up to the gateway, and demanded admission; they hesitated, and made excuses. I significantly hinted that my two companions should be responsible if a shot was fired; the stout Sikh heart failed, and I was admitted. My proceeding was justified, and rendered most opportune by the discovery that the garrison were preparing munitions of war, mounting guns, and looking saucy. I turned them out by the same means as I had gained admittance, viz: by hinting that if any resistance was made the headmen by my side were doomed. Putting in sixteen of my Guides to hold it until further orders, I took up my quarters outside for the night, and prepared to attack another small mud fort near at hand in the morning.

However, my friends ran away in the night in a fright, and thus I had opened the road to KulÁllwÁla without firing a shot. In the morning I marched with my little party towards the enemy, sending back a messenger to the Brigadier to say that I was close to the place, and that if he did not come on sharp they would run away or overwhelm me. He was dreadfully angry, but came on like a good boy! When within a mile or so of the fort, I halted my party to allow his column to get up nearer, and as soon as I could see it, moved on quietly. The ruse told to perfection: thinking they had only 100 men and myself to deal with, the Sikhs advanced in strength, thirty to one, to meet me, with colors flying and drums beating. Just then a breeze sprung up, the dust blew aside, and the long line of horsemen coming on rapidly behind my party burst upon their senses. They turned instantly, and made for the fort, so leaving my men to advance quietly after them, I galloped up to the Brigadier, pointed out the flying Sikhs, explained their position, and begged him to charge them. He melted from his wrath, and told two regiments of Irregulars to follow my guidance. On we went at the gallop, cut in amongst the fugitives, and punished them fearfully. The unfortunate wretches had cause to rue the day they turned rebels, for we left them thickly on the ground as we swept along. I had never charged with cavalry before, or come so directly into hand to hand conflict with the Sikh, save of course in the trenches at Sobraon. About 300 to 400 escaped into the fort, while the remainder threw down their arms and dispersed over the country. The garrison ran away during the night, unfortunately, and we had only to take peaceful possession in the morning. We had killed some 250 to 300 of them, which will be a lesson to them, I hope. My men got into the village contiguous to the fort early, while we pitched into those of the enemy who remained behind, to a great extent. Since then we have been pursuing other parties, but only came into collision with them to a very trifling extent once. They had learnt how to run away beautifully. The Brigadier has grown quite active, and very fond of me since that day at KulÁllwÁla, though he had the wit to see how very "brown I had done him" by making him march two marches in one.[9]

Jan. 1849.

I have just completed the first series of my duties in this DoÂb, by driving the last party of the insurgents across the Chenab.

As soon as I had settled matters a little at Deenanuggur, and made some arrangements to prevent further troubles if possible, I crossed the Ravee again, and got upon the track of the rebel party who had given us so much trouble. On the 15th, I heard that a large party had collected at a village called Gumrolah (near Dufferwal), but they had so many spies in my camp, that it was difficult to avoid their ken; at the same time their tendency to run away made a surprise the only feasible mode of reaching them. We therefore turned in as usual at night, but soon after midnight I aroused my men, and got them under arms and off before any one was aware of our move. I had with me one hundred of my Guides and fifteen sowars.

We marched quietly but swiftly, all night, and came upon the insurgents just at daybreak. I had ridden forward about half a mile, with a couple of sowars, to reconnoitre, and got unobserved within 250 yards of the insurgents, numbering at least 150 horse and foot.

They looked at me, and hesitated whether to come at me or not, apparently, while I beckoned to the remaining sowars to come up. I was in great hopes that they would have waited for ten minutes, by which time my men would have been up, with their rifles, and we should have given a good account of them. However, before five minutes had elapsed, they moved off sulkily like a herd of frightened deer, half alarmed, half in doubt. I saw at once that there was but one chance left, and determined to go at them as I was,—though 15 to 150 is an imprudent attempt.

The instant we were in motion they fled, and had gone half a mile before we could overtake them; the mounted men got off, but a party of Akhalees[10] on foot stopped and fought us, in some instances very fiercely. One fine bold "Nihung" beat off four sowars one after another, and kept them all at bay. I then went at him myself, fearing that he would kill one of them. He instantly rushed to meet me like a tiger, closed with me, yelling, "Wah Gooroo ji," and accompanying each shout with a terrific blow of his tulwar. I guarded the three or four first, but he pressed so closely to my horse's rein that I could not get a fair cut in return. At length I pressed in my turn upon him so sharply that he missed his blow, and I caught his tulwar backhanded with my bridle hand, wrenched it from him, and cut him down with the right, having received no further injury than a severe cut across the fingers; I never beheld such desperation and fury in my life. It was not human scarcely. By this time the rest of the party had gone a long way, and as we had already pursued farther than was prudent, where the spectators even were armed, and awaiting the result, I was obliged to halt, not without a growl at General Wheeler for having left me without any men. We had killed one more than our own number, however, and five more were so severely wounded that they were removed on "charpoys."

Camp under the Hills on the Ravee,
Jan. 18th, 1849.

... A few days afterwards, Lumsden having joined me with our mounted men, we surprised and cut to pieces another party of rebels, for which we have again been thanked by Government. Since then I have been with Brigadier-General Wheeler's force again, employed in hunting after one Ram Singh and his followers, and have been day and night at work,—examining the hills and rivers, trying fords, leading columns, and doing all the multifarious duties thrust on that unhappy combination of hard work, a "Guide" and "Political" in one. Ram Singh's position was stormed on the 16th, and I had been chosen to lead one of the principal columns of attack; but we had to march by a circuitous route across the hills, darkness came on, accompanied by dreadful rain, the rivers rose and were impassable, and after twenty-four hours of the most trying work I ever experienced, in which cold, hunger, and wet were our enemies, we succeeded in reaching our ground just in time to be too late; however, I had done all that human nature could effect under the circumstances, and one cannot always be successful. Two poor fellows, one a nephew of Sir R. Peel's, were killed; otherwise the loss was trifling on our side.[11]

We have just received intelligence of another great fight between the army under Lord Gough and the Sikhs,[12] in which the latter, though beaten, seem to have had every advantage given away to them. Our loss has been severe, and the mismanagement very disgraceful, yet it will be called a victory and lauded accordingly. Oh for one month of Sir Charles Napier!

Deenanuggur, Feb. 4th, 1849.

I had one of my narrowest escapes two days ago: I went into Lahore for a few days to see Sir H. Lawrence (who is again the Resident), and laid relays of horses along the road to this place, so as to ride in at once. I left Lahore on the morning of the 31st, and stopping at Umritsur to breakfast, reached my camp at nightfall, having ridden one hundred miles in ten hours and a half. A party of Sikhs had collected at a village by the roadside to attack me and "polish" me off, but not calculating upon the rapidity of my movements, did not expect me until the morning. I am sorry to say that they surrounded my horses which were coming on quietly in the morning, asked for me, and finding I had escaped, stole my best horse (a valuable Arab, who had carried me in three fights), and bolted, not, however, without resistance, for two horsemen (Guides) of mine who were with the horse tried to save it. One got four wounds and the other escaped unhurt. Had I ridden like any other Christian instead of like a spectre horseman, and been the usual time on the road, I should have been "a body." We gave chase from hence as soon as we heard, and rode for eleven hours and a half in pursuit! which was pretty well after a hundred miles' ride the day before.

Camp, Wuzeerabad, Feb. 19th, 1849.

I have at length reached the "army of the Punjaub," almost by accident, as it were, though I was most anxious to be present at the final grand struggle between the Khalsa and the British armies. I am at present with my men, attached to a brigade encamped on this (the left) bank of the Chenab, to prevent the enemy crossing until Lord Gough is ready to attack them on the right bank, where he is now encamped with his whole force minus our brigade. The Sikhs quietly walked away from him the other day, and instead of having their backs to the Jhelum, passed round his flank, and made steadily for this place, intending, boldly enough, to march upon Lahore. I came across the DoÂb with a handful of men, and reached this place just as they took up a position on the opposite bank of the river. At the same moment a brigade arrived by a forced night-march from Ramnuggur, and, for the present, the Sikhs have been sold. Yet I should not be surprised at their evading us again, and going off to a higher ford. The game is getting very exciting, and I am quite enjoying the stir and bustle of two large armies in the field. The grand finale must, one would think, come off in a day or two. It is possible however that, as I say, the Sikhs may out-manoeuvre us and prolong the campaign. The Affghans have joined the Sikhs, contrary to the expectations of every one (but myself), and there is now no saying where the struggle will end.

The Affghans are contemptible in the plains, generally speaking; but numbers become formidable, even if armed with broomsticks.