which he found to exist in the army within
his own government, and made representations to Sir Henry Hardinge full
of prophetic foresight as to the disposition of the Sepoys, whom the
gallant conqueror of Scinde believed to be disloyal almost to a man.
According to statements made long afterwards by Major-general Tucker
(the adjutant-general), and by Major-general Lord Melville, Sir Henry
Hardinge, while he actually eulogised the Sepoy army especially for
their loyalty, privately expressed his alarm at the unsafe foundation
upon which British power in India rested, in consequence of the secret
unfaithfulness of the Sepoy troops! This very much resembled Sir Henry's
procedure afterwards, when Lord Plardinge and commander-in-chief of the
British army. Possessing administrative capacity, military talents of a
high order, and as dauntless a heart as ever beat in a British soldier's
breast, he had the soul of a "red-tapist" and a "snob," and was ready to
sacrifice his own opinions and the welfare of the service, to official,
aristocratic, or court influence. He fought and governed well, but not
so much for the good of the country as the objects of his caste.
His conduct in reference to the Sikh war was much reprehended for
unpreparedness, want of promptitude, and for a tampering and concessive
policy unsuitable to oriental nations. His extreme gallantry in
the field, and the successful issue of the war, blotted out these
reprehensions both from his own name and from the public mind. His
instructions from home accounted for his time-serving hesitation,
unpreparedness for the war, and forbearance with an enemy upon whom such
indulgence was lost. All this vacillation harmonised with the foreign
and domestic policy of Sir Robert Peel, under whose instructions he
acted. It met with the disapprobation _ab initio_ of all men competent
to form an opinion on Indian affairs. The chivalry of the soldier
covered the faults of the governor-general, and the impolicy of the
government under whose instructions he acted.

When the tidings of these events in India reached England, the rejoicing
was very great. Never had the arms of England been more signally crowned
with success; and never had such suspense attended the first tidings
of the dangers to our Indian empire, menaced by the invasion of the
far-famed and highly-disciplined Khalsa army. The country felt relieved
of a great pressure of care, as when, after a long and gloomy night--