lay dormant until it was successfully revived, under very different conditions, nearly forty years afterward.

SECTION IV. Sinde and the Punjab.

In 1839 the territory of the Amírs of Sinde, in the valley of the Indus, had been brought within our political control by Lord Auckland, who needed it as a steppingstone and as a basis for his operations toward south Afghanistan. The port of Kurrachee, near the Indus mouth, had been seized, and the river had been thrown open to British commerce. When Lord Ellenborough determined to retire from Afghanistan, he was very reluctant to give up the valuable position that we had taken up in Sinde; he desired, on the contrary, to acquire permanent possession of the stations that our troops had occupied temporarily, and he took advantage of delay in the payment of tribute to press for territorial cessions. Sir Charles Napier, who had been sent to Sinde as a congenial representative of demands that were likely to produce war, submitted to the GovernorGeneral a memorandum arguing that, while we were bound to insist on the rigid observance of treaties, yet such strict punctilio would confine us permanently within the limits of the stations which the treaty assigned to us, and would thus prevent us from interposing for the general good of the Sinde people. 'Is it possible,' he asked, 'that such a state of things can long continue?' and 'if this reasoning is correct, would it not be better to come to results at once,' by annexing the places which we now hold temporarily? Proceeding to consider 'how we might go to work in a matter so critical,' he enclosed a memorandum of five cases in which the Amirs 'seemed to have departed

from the terms or spirit of their engagements,' and he urged that it would not be harsh, but on the contrary humane, to coerce them into ceding the places required. Accordingly Sir Charles Napier was empowered by Lord Ellenborough to press upon the Sinde rulers a new treaty, framed on the basis of exchanging tribute for territory. The Amirs signed it, but mustered their troops and attacked the British Residency at their capital; whereupon Sir Charles Napier marched into their country and gained a decisive victory over their army at Meeánee, in February, 1843. The results were the deposition of the Sinde Amírs, and the transfer to the British dominion of the lower Indus valley, whereby we obtained possession of Kurrachee and the Indus estuary, and brought within our control the whole unbroken circuit of the Indian sea-coast. In 1844, however, Lord Ellenborough's administration was terminated by his recall, and he was succeeded by Sir Henry Hardinge.

In the meantime, from the date of Ranjit Singh's death in 1839, the Sikh government of the Punjab, which had lasted barely thirty years, had been rapidly falling into dilapidation. One chief after another had assumed the administration, and had been overthrown or assassinated. In Asia a new kingdom is almost always founded by some able leader with a genius for military organization, who can raise and command an effective army, which he employs not only to beat rivals in the field but also to break down all minor chiefships, to disarm every kind of possible opposition within his borders, and generally to level every barrier that might limit his personal authority. But he who thus sweeps away all means of resistance

leaves himself no supports, for support implies the capacity to resist; and the very strength and keenness of the military instrument that he has forged renders it doubly dangerous to his successors. If the next ruler's heart or hand fail him, there is no longer any counterpoise to the overpowering weight of the sword in the political balance, and the State or the dynasty is upset. The Sikh dominion had been established in the spirit of religious brotherhood and revolt against Mahomedan oppression; and while such popular, almost democratic, forces, were immensely strong when condensed into driving power for a well-handled military despotism, they were certain to become ungovernable and to explode if any error or weakness were shown in guiding the machine. None of Ranjit Singh's sons, real or reputed, had inherited his talents, or could manage the fierce soldiery with whom he had conquered the Punjab, driven back the Afghans across the Indus into their mountains, and annexed Kashmir. His eldest and authentic son, Kharrak Singh, died within a year; his reputed son, Sher Singh, the last who endeavoured to maintain his father's policy of friendship with the British, was soon murdered with his son and the prime minister, by a conspiracy. The chiefs and ministers who endeavoured to govern after Sher Singh's death were removed by internecine strife, mutinous outbreaks, and assassinations. The Sikh State was on the verge of dissolution by anarchy, for all power had passed into the hands of committees of regimental officers appointed by an army that was wild with religious ardour, furiously suspicious of its own government. The Queen-mother, Ranjit Singh's widow, and her infant son Dhuleep Singh, were recognized as nominal representatives of the reigning house; but they were liable

and

at any moment to be consumed by the next eruption of sanguinary caprice, and their only hope of preservation lay in finding some outlet abroad for the forces which had reduced the Sikh State to violent internal anarchy. For this purpose it was manifestly their interest to launch their turbulent army across the Sutlej against the English, into a collision that would certainly weaken and probably destroy it. The military leaders were not blind to the motives with which they were encouraged to march upon the English frontier; but their patriotism had been excited by rumours of the advance of the British army, for the Governor-General (Sir Henry Hardinge), fearing some disorderly inroad, was bringing up troops to reinforce his outposts. There had also been some inopportune frontier disputes, which had embittered the Lahore government, not altogether unreasonably, against the English. When, therefore, the Sikh soldiers were taunted with questions whether they would tamely submit to European domination, they answered by crossing the Sutlej river, which was the strategical frontier, and entrenching themselves on the south-eastern bank, in territory which, though it belonged to Lahore, the Lahore government was bound by treaty not to enter with any considerable armed force. This was taken to be an act of war, and in December 1845 they were met by the British army. On our side the preparations were incomplete; we had undervalued both the strength and the activity of the enemy; and we had been so long accustomed to easy victories on the open plains of India that the resolute defence of their field-entrenchments made by the Sikhs, and their well-served artillery, took us by surprise. In the first battle, at Moodkee, we paid dearly for our success; and three days later, at Fírozshah, began the

most bloody and obstinate contest ever fought by AngloIndian troops, at the end of which the English army was left in bare possession of its camping-ground, in a situation of imminent peril from the approach of the Sikh reserve forces under Tej Singh. But the English maintained a bold front; Tej Singh retired; and, in the two battles that followed (Aliwal and Sobraon) the Sikhs, fighting hardily and fiercely, were driven back across the Sutlej and compelled to abandon further resistance in the field1. The Governor-General occupied Lahore in February 1846 with 20,000 men; Ranjit Singh's infant son was placed on the throne under English tutelage; some cessions of territory were exacted; the Sikh army was reduced; and for two years the Punjab was administered as a State under the general superintendence and protection of the British government.

But the expedient of placing the machinery of native government under temporary European superintendence can succeed only when the irresistible authority of the superintending power is universally felt and recognized. The system is unstable because it does not pretend to permanence; it lacks the direct and weighty pressure required to keep down the smouldering elements of military revolt. Although the Sikhs were in number not more than one-sixth of the population of the Punjab, they were united by the recollection of rulership; and the fighting men, who were justly proud of having played an even match against the English, were not yet inclined to settle down again to peaceful agriculture. At the Lahore court intrigue and jealousies prevailed; and in the outlying districts there was more than one focus of discontent. In April 1848 the assassination at

1 Battle of Fírozshah, Dec. 21, 1845: Battle of Sobraon, terminating the campaign, Feb. 10, 1846.