And now the heart of the Governor-General began to beat with expectation of the immediate arrival of the victorious armies. Everything was ready for their reception. The army of reserve was spread out over the great plain of Ferozepore. Triumphal arches had been erected. A temporary bridge had been thrown across the Sutlej. The elephants, no insignificant portion of the coming spectacle, had been gorgeously painted and decorated, and tricked out in their gayest trappings and caparisons; and as much of tinsel, and bamboo-work, and coloured cloth, as could give effect to the triumph, had been expended to grace the occasion. On the 17th of December, Sir Robert Sale crossed the Sutlej at the head of that gallant body of troops which had composed the garrison of Jellalabad. The Governor-General went forth to meet them. A street of two hundred and fifty elephants, more or less caparisoned, had been formed, and through this marched the heroes of Jellalabad—the 13th Light Infantry, Sale’s own regiment, at the head of the column; but although the docile animals had been instructed to make a simultaneous salaam at a given signal, and to snort out a note of welcome from their huge trunks, they resolutely refused to make an obeisance, and were obstinately silent as the Illustrious Garrison filed between the huge walls of caparisoned flesh. The morning was dull and lowering—not a gleam of sunshine lighted up the festive scene; but there were sunny hearts and bright faces; and as the horse-artillery guns boomed forth their welcome, and the band of the Lancers struck up the ever-animating “Conquering Hero” tune, and each regiment in succession, as the column passed on, saluted their long-absent comrades, the heart must have been a dull one that did not acknowledge that there is something of a bright side even to the picture of war. On the 19th, General Pollock crossed the Sutlej; and on the 23rd, General Nott arrived, bringing with him the gates of Somnauth.[345] Then there was feasting and festivity in the gigantic tents, hung with silken flags, on which, in polyglot emblazonments, were the names of the actions that had been fought; many complimentary effusions, in the shape of after-dinner harangues;[346] and in the mornings, grand field-days, more or less, according to the “skyey influences.” The year—a most eventful one—was closed with a grand military display. The plain was covered with British and Sikh troops, and in the presence of Pertaub Singh, the heir apparent of Lahore; Dhyan Singh, the minister; the Governor-General, the Commander-in-Chief, and others of less note, some forty thousand men, with a hundred guns, were manœuvred on the great plain. On this grand tableau the curtain fell; and the year opportunely closed in gaiety and glitter—in prosperity and parade.