An interesting discovery, from Flashman's dungeon ordeal, is that in roasting Tom Brown so memorably before the schoolroom fire at Rugby (see Tom Brown's Schooldays), he was simply passing on a lesson learned from the deplorable Dawson, to whom he also refers in Flashman in the Great Game.
29. How many Sikhs crossed the Sutlej it is impossible to say, far less how many were in the field on both sides of the river. Flashman's.eventual figure of 50,000 may not be far out, but it can be regarded as a maximum; Cunningham's estimate is 35,000-40,000, plus another force of unspecified size advancing on Ludhiana. Against this Gough had about 30,000 at most, but only 22,000 of these were on or near the frontier, and they were widely dispersed. The Khalsa, according to Cunningham, had a superiority of almost two to one in artillery.
30. Lal Singh did send this note to Peter Nicolson, word for word except that where Flashman gives 'Khalsa' Lal wrote 'Sikh army'. He also informed Nicolson of Jeendan's friendship, with the hope that the British would 'cut up' the invaders. Nicolson's reply was that Lal should not attack Ferozepore, but delay and march to meet the British—thus confirming what Flashman had already told the Wazir. These proofs of treachery by the Khalsa's own leaders were not published immediately, as a result of Nicolson's death, but Dr M'Gregor, writing within a year of the event, obviously knew the truth: having pointed out that a leader like Runjeet Singh would have caused as much havoc as possible by burning and sacking on a wide front, he adds: 'We are almost tempted to believe that the Sikh leaders wished to keep their troops together, in order that the British might have a full and fair opportunity of destroying them!' In 1849 Cunningham was stating bluntly that the object of the Sikh leaders was 'to get their own troops dispersed by the [British]'. He knew of Lal's correspondence with Nicolson, but not the details. In the light of what these two respected historians wrote at the time, it is remarkable to find William Broadfoot, forty years later, disputing the charge of treachery against Lal and Tej. Nor was he alone; at least one other British historian discounted it. If, in the light of the evidence available, any doubt remained, Flashman has surely dispelled it. (See Cunningham, Khushwant Singh, M'Gregor, Broadfoot, and Herbert Compton, 'Mudki and Firozshah', in Battles of the Nineteenth Century (1896))
31. Flashman's memory is almost certainly at fault. Lieut.-Col. Huthwaite may well have been able to tell which guns were being used, but the British howitzers did not arrive at Mudki until the following day. (See Fortescue.)
32. A fair judgment, and Flashman had cause to be pleased with his strategy, for although the British force was only slightly larger than the Sikh, it had an advantage of four or five to one in infantry, which was decisive. 'Unsatisfactory and unduly costly' is Fortescue's verdict, and he is rightly critical of Gough for attacking head-on an enemy stationed in jungle. But considering that the British force had covered sixty miles in two days before going into action, it could have been worse.
33. This remarkable observation, so characteristic of Broadfoot, was originally made by him after a skirmish in Afghanistan from which he emerged perspiring heavily and with a blood-stained sabre, having killed three men and been wounded himself. (See Broadfoot.)
34. This is the only existing account of the extraordinary exchange between Hardinge and Gough before Ferozeshah, although the gist of their conversation was communicated to intimates soon afterwards. Charles Hardinge, in his father's biography, was an eye-witness from a distance, but apparently out of earshot. Unique or not, the dispute arose from Hardinge's decision to place himself under the military command of Gough, while retaining overall authority as Governor-General. In theory it was a risky arrangement, but understandable; it would have been foolish not to use Hardinge's military experience. He had been twice wounded in the Peninsular War, losing a hand, served as deputy quartermaster-general of the Portuguese army, and been attached to Prussian headquarters in the Waterloo campaign, in which he was again badly wounded. He was active in politics, serving as Wellington's Secretary for War, before being sent to India as Governor-General. (See Hardinge, and Note 40.)
35. This military pleasantry was still going the rounds in the Second World War. Only the 9th Foot (Royal Norfolk) could take a lady into barracks, the 'lady' being the figure of Britannia on their cap badge.
36. Historians disagree about the behaviour of the Sikh cavalry. One describes their advance as hesitant, Fortescue says they were stationary, but an eye-witness called it 'the most splendid sight of the campaign, their horses caracoling and bounding, and the bright sunlight flashed from steel armour and spears … they came on at a rapid pace to within four hundred yards of the British line,' Gough's biographer hardly mentions it. Obviously it depends on the point of view, but Flashman is probably right in thinking that White's intervention was decisive.
37. This incident is true. Gough 'with my gallant aide' (C. R. Sackville West; he had obviously forgotten Flashman) deliberately rode ahead to draw the Khalsa's fire, and succeeded. He has been criticised for needlessly endangering himself; on the other hand, it has been argued that the effect on his troops' morale was considerable. Gough himself probably never gave a thought either to danger or morale; he seems to have acted emotionally, on the spur of the moment.
38. Flashman's account of the two days of Ferozeshah is so full and accurate that little need be added to it. For both sides, it was a battle of missed opportunities: the British should have had it won on the first day, but they ran out of daylight (thanks to Hardinge, according to Gough supporters) and in the confusion of the night fighting they lost the advantage they had gained. The Sikhs should have overwhelmed Gough's force on the second afternoon, but Tej's treachery robbed them of victory; a point Flashman does not mention is that Tej seems to have waited until he was sure Lal Singh's defending force had been thoroughly routed (some had deserted in the night, including Lal himself, whose personal headquarters had been attacked and looted by the furious Akalis).
It has been suggested that on the first night of the battle the British commanders had decided to surrender: one Sikh historian says it quite flatly, quoting the diary of Robert Cust, a young political officer who was not even at Ferozeshah. In fact, it is plain from the papers of both Gough and Hardinge that surrender was never contemplated. Hardinge says clearly that he was approached by some officers 'with timid counsels of retreat' which he flatly rejected. Gough too was approached by officers ('some of rank and in important situations') who urged retreat, two of them claiming that they spoke for Hardinge. Gough did not believe them, stated his intention of fighting on, and consulted Hardinge, who repudiated the officers' statement, and agreed with Gough 'that retreat was not to be considered for a moment'. Plainly there were some in favour of retreat (apart from the unfortunate Lumley); just as plainly, Gough and Hardinge gave them short shrift.
Flashman has dealt fully with Tej Singh, subscribing to the general view that it was his treachery alone that turned the tide. That Tej was a traitor seems obvious, but it is just possible that the reasons he gave for not attacking Gough's exhausted force had some justification; he probably did not know, for example, that the British artillery was out of ammunition, and hesitated to attack their fortified position. It is also possible that some of his commanders agreed with him. for what seemed to them sound military reasons. At any rate, it is difficult to believe that the Sikh army were turned back against the united will of their regimental commanders, simply by Tej's word alone.
Napoleon's sword, which had been presented to Hardinge by Wellington, was sent back from Ferozeshah, and Dr Hoffmeister, one of Prince Waldemar's suite, was killed on the first day. (See Rait, Hardinge, Fortescue, Compton, Autobiography of Sir Harry Smith, ed. by G. C. Moore Smith, vol. ii (1901); Cunningham, Broadfoot, M'Gregor, and History of the Bengal European Regiment, by P. R. Innes (1885).)
39. This was, in fact, the excuse given to Hardinge by Lumley for appearing in informal dress. (See Hardinge.)
40. Flashman's attitudes to his military superiors vary from affection (Colin Campbell, Gough, Scarlett) to poisonous hatred (Cardigan), with degrees of respect (Ulysses Grant, Hugh Rose, Hope Grant), contempt (Raglan, Elphinstone), and amused anxiety (Custer) in between, and most of them are understandable. Why he so disliked Hardinge is less obvious, for the Governor-General seems to have been an amiable man enough, and not unpopular; his portrait gives no hint of the pomposity and coldness that Flashman found in him. It is quite likely that their instant mutual antipathy was our hero's fault; enjoying the euphoria of having done good service for once, he probably let his natural impudence show, and was less inclined than usual to toady (as witness his uncharacteristic outburst to Littler). The bouncy young political no doubt brought out the worst in Hardinge, and Flashman, a ready hater, has repaid with interest in a portrait which probably does the Governor-General less than justice, especially where Gough is concerned. Hardinge was surely sincere in writing to Peel that Gough was 'not the officer who ought to be entrusted with the conduct of the war', and can hardly be blamed for seeking the appointment of a less mercurial C-in-C. Disaster had been avoided by a miracle, and the Governor-General might well be nervous of a general who was once heard to say, when his guns ran out of ammunition, 'Thank God, then I'll be at them with the bayonet!' At the same time, Hardinge failed to recognise that many of Gough's difficulties had been created by Hardinge himself, and it may well be, as Gough's biographer suggests, that the Governor-General had a tendency
