The three years that John Nicholson had spent in India had left their mark upon him. The stripling had grown to man’s stature. He was now full six feet in height, black-haired and dark of eye, and with a grave manner which the exciting experiences he had passed through had intensified. Many people found the young officer too cold and austere for their liking, but the haughty demeanour which characterised him in reality covered a warm and sympathetic nature, of which those who were admitted into his intimacy were fully aware. By this time he had made several notable friends, including Major George Lawrence (brother of the future Lord Lawrence), and a subaltern in the 16th Native Infantry, named Neville Chamberlain, who was to make a great name for himself in the stirring days to come.

To such as had followed his career Nicholson had come through his baptism of fire with flying colours. He had shown himself possessed of high courage, and had won admiration as much for his fortitude in captivity as for his bravery in action. So far, indeed, the life of a soldier had suited him; he was now to see the other side of the shield and experience the peaceful but monotonous existence in cantonments at Meerut and Moradabad.

In this distasteful period of inaction, he applied himself diligently to the study of native languages, and was able to report to his mother ere long that he had passed the interpréter’s examination. What also eased the irksomeness of his situation was his appointment as adjutant of his regiment. The new duties that fell to his lot gave him plenty of employment.

But the reign of peace was destined to be short. In the autumn of 1845 came the first signs of a great rising among the Sikhs, whose territory was divided from the British by the river Sutlej. This warlike nation had reached the height of their power under the famous Ranjit Singh. After his death no fit successor was found to rule in his place, and the turbulent soldiery quickly found an excuse to rebel against the British Government which held them in check by the troops massed upon the frontiers.

War was declared in November. In the following month occurred the battles of Moodkee and Ferozeshah, in which General Sir Hugh Gough was victorious over the Sikh army. At these fierce engagements Nicholson was present as a commissariat officer, and not, to his regret, as a combatant. Some weeks later followed the victories of Aliwal and Sobraon, which resulted in the youthful Prince Dhuleep Singh, the avowed head of the Sikhs, making his submission, and gave the British a foothold in the Punjaub.

By one clause of the treaty which was concluded, the province of Cashmere was ceded to us, but shortly afterwards it was made over to the Maharajah Gholab Singh of Jummu for the sum of one million sterling. At the request of the Maharajah, the Government now selected two officers to assist the new ruler in keeping his subjects in order, their choice falling on Captain Broome of the Bengal Artillery and Lieutenant Nicholson. The latter owed this step to Henry Lawrence, to whom he had been already introduced and upon whom he had made a distinct impression. Colonel Lawrence himself had succeeded Major George Broadfoot, the distinguished political agent for the Punjaub, and was installed as British Resident at Lahore.

The ostensible reason for the appointment of Broome and Nicholson was the need for drilling and disciplining the Cashmere army, but they soon found that their presence was required by the Maharajah simply to show that he had the support of the British. It was highly desirable that a display of such friendship should be made, for the Sikh inhabitants did not take at all kindly to their new chief. After a stay at Jummu Gholab Singh set out for Cashmere, accompanied by Broome and Nicholson and a small body of his own troops. Before many days had elapsed he was hastening back to his capital with such of his soldiers who could escape from the insurgents, while the two British officers just managed to avoid capture in the mountain passes, and join him later at Jummu.

The Sikh insurrection, however, had a brief life. A few months later Nicholson was again in Cashmere with a definite appointment in the North-West Frontier Agency. He was marked out by Lawrence as one of the men whom he could rely upon to help in the work of keeping peace in the Punjaub. Of the other lieutenants of Lawrence Herbert Edwardes, Abbott, Reynell Taylor, Becher, and the rest mention will be made in due course. Never was master better served than was the British Resident by these young and able officers.

To the wise way in which they carried out his policy of conciliation we owe it that the vast district of the Punjaub not only remained quiet at the outbreak of the Mutiny, but itself furnished us with native troops who had a great share in quelling the rebellion.

From Cashmere Nicholson was in time transferred to Lahore to act as Assistant to Colonel Henry Lawrence. This was a pleasing promotion, and held out hopes of even more important posts in the future. On the way down to the old Sikh capital he had the satisfaction of meeting his younger brother Charles, who had followed him into the service and arrived in India some months previously. Another brother, Alexander, as has been noted, had been killed in action in the fighting round Cabul in 1842, and a third William was to meet with a sadder fate. He was found dead in circumstances that gave rise to a suspicion of foul play.

Now began for Nicholson that useful training in administrative work which gained him such repute a few years later. Within three weeks of his arrival at Lahore he was despatched on a mission to Umritsur, with instructions to survey and report generally on the district. This done, he proceeded to the Sind Sagur Doab country, where he was stationed as political officer in command. To cultivate the acquaintance of the two Nazims, or ruling chiefs, the Sirdars Chuttur Singh and Lall Singh, and support their authority, at the same time that he protected the people from oppression, was Nicholson’s charge from Lawrence, and he applied himself to the difficult task with zeal and enthusiasm.

“Avoid as far as possible any military movement during the next three months,” wrote Lawrence; “but, should serious disturbance arise, act energetically.” By peaceful methods, if possible, did he wish to bring the Punjaub under subjection. Still, if the

“. . . new-caught, sullen peoples,
Half-devil and half-child,”

were rebellious and needed chastening, the hand that smote them was to smite heavily.

Very soon after Nicholson reached his new district the occasion arose for him to assert his power. Captain Abbott, then acting as Boundary Commissioner, was having trouble with the chiefs of Simulkund. These worthies had committed some dastardly outrages in the neighbourhood, and refused point-blank to appear at his court to answer for their misdeeds. In response to the other’s summons, Nicholson led a small force to Simulkund, where he acted in conjunction with Abbott. The result of these prompt measures was to make the Simulkund rebels abandon their position without firing a shot.

This was a peaceful termination to an overt act of rebellion. The next piece of lawlessness that called for punishment was of a more serious nature, and gave Nicholson more opportunity to display his mastery. Although the country round Rawal Pindi was apparently tranquil, the natives were, as a matter of fact, only waiting for a convenient moment to shake off the yoke. Pathans, Rajputs, Jats, Gujars, and men of other tribes, alike resented the check laid upon their raiding and cattle-lifting, while the rough soldiery especially lamented the lost opportunities for plundering.

Before the winter of 1847-48 had come to an end there was a violent outbreak in Mooltan. In that district the Moolraj treacherously murdered some white officers and proclaimed a “holy war” against the British.

The revolt soon began to spread. Tribe after tribe helped to fan the fires of rebellion into a blaze, until at last Sirdar Chuttur Singh, whom everybody had thought to be tamed, threw off his allegiance and raised his wild Hazara followers. To Nicholson news speedily came that Chuttur Singh meant to seize the fort at Attock, an important hill station. Although suffering from fever, he declared to Lawrence his readiness to start at once for the fort and occupy it before the rebel chief could forestall them.

“I will start to-night,” said Nicholson. “The fever is nothing, and shall not hinder me.”

Lawrence having consented to his departure, he set off some hours later with a body of Peshawur Horse and Mohammedan levies, and by dint of hard riding reached the fort in the nick of time. The garrison were on the point of closing the gates against him. Leaping from his horse, and striding boldly among them, Nicholson ordered the Sikh soldiers to arrest their leaders. For a moment they wavered, and the young officer’s life hung in the balance. But no one dared fire the shot which would have turned the scale for mutiny.

“Seize those men!” commanded Nicholson fiercely, as he pointed out the ringleaders. And, impressed by his resolute bearing, as he towered above them with grim determination written on his face, the soldiers did as he ordered, whereupon he placed the prisoners in fetters and made arrangements for the security of the fort.

It was a daring and characteristic piece of work, made all the more noteworthy by the fact that Nicholson was almost alone when he leapt thus upon the mutineers. In his fiery impatience he had outdistanced his escort of sixty horsemen, only a handful of these being able to keep up with him to the end. The infantry, he noted in his report, did not arrive until midnight.

Such a swift blow at their plans as this was not without its lesson to the Sikhs, and the name of “Nikalseyn” from that time began to assume a terrible significance in their minds.