Towards the end of April the court returned to Cabul. Affairs were far from satisfactory. The unpopularity of the English, and even of Soojah himself, became daily more and more obvious to all observant people. The dual Government was a failure. The English, pledged not to interfere with Soojah, were obliged to permit much of which they strongly disapproved to pass unchallenged, and were only called upon to intervene to pass measures whichSoojah himself was not strong enough to enforce. Whenever therefore their presence did make itself conspicuously felt it had the natural result of only increasing their unpopularity. The expense had already been enormous, and showed no signs of decreasing. The wealth and liberality of the English had been a tradition in Afghanistan since the days of Elphinstone, and the Afghans, though they hated the infidel soldiers much, loved the infidel gold still more. Unfortunately, too, the dislike borne to the English by the Afghan men was not shared by the Afghan women, and the passion of jealousy, with but too good cause, was thus added to the passions of distrust and hate. Evil news, too, came from every quarter; from the Bamean frontier on the north, from Herat on the west, from Candahar on the south, from Peshawur on the east. Macnaghten had never ceased importuning the Viceroy to sanction the restoration of Herat and Peshawur to the Afghan dominions. The Sikhs were now open in their declarations of enmity to the English, though they had refrained as yet from any actual hostilities, and Macnaghten, with considerable reason, declared there could be no safety in Afghanistan till, to use his own words, "the road through the Punjab was macadamised." At Herat, too, Yar Mahomed, theVizier, a man of boundless avarice and treachery, though living on British bounty, was openly intriguing with Persia, and had behaved with such gross and repeated insolence to our Envoy that the latter had at last left his court in disgust. But Lord Auckland, though not insensible to Macnaghten's arguments, did not dare at that time to increase either his responsibilities or his expenses, both of which were already sufficiently heavy. Grave complaints were heard from Candahar, where the old system of taxation that had made the Barukzye rule so irksome was still in force, and still in the hands of the same hated collectors. The Ghilzyes, who had already received severe punishment from Outram, were again in the field, and further still to the south the whole country was in revolt. Khelat had been won back from us by Mehrab Khan's son, and Loveday, the English officer in charge, barbarously murdered. In the far north our outposts had pushed on over the Bamean range, and were in frequent collision with the Oosbegs, and other supporters of the Barukzye cause. It is true that wherever our troops met the enemy in the open field the victory remained with the former, but that such meetings were as frequent as they were showed the angry temper of the country but too plainly to all who hadeyes to see and ears to hear. Still the sanguine temperament of Macnaghten refused to recognise the impracticability of the game. Still he persisted in believing in the popularity of Soojal, and in the ultimate settlement of his kingdom, and as a proof of his confidence he about this time sent down to Bengal for his wife, an example which was followed by most of the other married officers.
The news from the north soon became still more alarming. Jubbar Khan was at Khooloom with the Ameer's family, living on the bounty of the Wullee, or chief of that place, who still upheld with fidelity rare for an Afghan the cause of the fugitive king. Other once staunch supporters, however, had "come in," as the phrase went, among them Azim Khan, one of the Ameer's sons, and it was reported that Jubbar himself was vacillating. A forward movement of our troops would, it was believed, soon bring him to his senses. A forward movement was accordingly made and the Khan did "come in." On July 3rd he arrived at Bamean with his brother's family, and a large party of retainers.
But now the Ameer himself was once more in the field. At first a guest in the court of Bokhara, he had afterwards become the prisoner of that treacherous chief, who, had he dared, would havemurdered his captive, and his sons with him, as he would have murdered the English Envoy. But Dost Mahomed, who as he said of himself, "was a wooden spoon, to be thrown hither and thither without hurt," contrived in some way to effect his escape, and, after infinite hardships, to make his way to his old ally of Khooloom, who welcomed him with open arms. The Oosbegs gathered to the popular standard. The Ameer was reminded that his wives and children were in our power; "I have no family," was his answer, "I have buried my wives and children," and at the head of 8000 men he advanced on Bamean early in September. Our troops had been compelled to abandon the outposts they had established beyond the frontier. They had never failed indeed to repel the frequent attacks that had been made on them, but it had become at last painfully evident that such isolated posts were no longer tenable. They fell back therefore to Bamean, losing everything on the retreat, and to make matters still worse a regiment of Afghan infantry that had been lately raised went over in a body to the enemy. Meanwhile, however, Dennie had come up with strong reinforcements, and on September 18th a decisive battle was fought. The enemy were immeasurablythe stronger both in numbers and position, but the victory was ours, and for the second time Dost Mahomed only escaped death by the speed of his horse. But though he saved his life, he lost a valuable friend. Dennie's guns had a salutary effect on the Wullee, and within a few days of the battle the old man prudently came to terms with the English, pledging himself no longer to harbour or assist Dost Mahomed or any of his family. Great was the delight in the camp at Cabul, where affairs had begun to look very black indeed, and serious apprehensions at one time entertained of an insurrection;—but they had not yet done with the Ameer.
Driven out of the Hindoo Koosh, our gallant enemy next re-appeared in Kohistan, a district only too ripe for revolt. Sale was ordered out to meet him and Burnes went with him, while Wade was despatched from Jellalabad to act against the refractory Wuzzeerees. After a series of small successes, in one of which Edward Conolly, a young cavalry officer of great bravery and promise, was killed, and one repulse at Joolgah, Sale, on November 2nd, met the Ameer at Purwandurrah, in the Nijrow country, a name disastrous among many other disastrous names in the annals of the Afghanwar. The latter had no original intention of giving battle, but a chance movement of our horse changed his mind. Lord, one of our political agents, had proposed that our cavalry, the 2nd Bengal Light Cavalry, should take up new ground on the Afghan flank. The order had been given, and the two squadrons, numbering something over two hundred sabres, had already gone "threes about," when Dost Mahomed, seeing, as he supposed, the British in retreat, rode straight down on them at the head of about 400 horsemen. Fraser, who was in command, at once facing his men about, gave the order to charge, and dashed, with his officers behind him, full at the advancing squadrons. Not a trooper followed. At an irresolute walk they met the onset, and scarcely even waiting to cross swords, fled in every direction, leaving their officers to their fate. Of these, two, Crispin and Broadfoot, were instantly cut down; Lord managed to win his way through the sabres, only to fall immediately afterwards by a shot from one of the forts; Fraser, severely wounded, was saved only by the strength and speed of his horse; how the others escaped no man could say. Our infantry managed in a measure to retrieve the fortunes of the day. The Afghans were driven from their position, but their leader once againescaped from out our very grasp. Lawrence has generously tried to find excuses for the conduct of his men (he was not himself with them, for at that time he was acting as assistant agent to Macnaghten), but the fact remains that a native regiment, hitherto famous for its bravery and fidelity, refused to follow its English officers on the field of battle, and fled like sheep before a horde of irregular horsemen not twice their number. Burnes wrote off to Cabul forthwith to announce, perhaps somewhat to magnify, the disaster, and implored Macnaghten to concentrate all our troops at once on the capital, in anticipation, which all then believed to be certain, of the Ameer's instant advance. Far other, however, were at that time the plans of Dost Mahomed. He did, indeed, advance on the capital, but attended only by a single attendant, and within twenty-four hours after his victory he had placed his sword in Macnaghten's hands.
Force would never have driven him to such a step, but he was weary of fighting in a cause which, so far as he then could foresee, could but be hopeless, and he felt that after his brilliant triumph of the previous day he could lay down his arms without disgrace. Macnaghten and the other English officers received him with the utmost courtesy.Nicholson, an officer of great bravery and intelligence, was appointed to take charge of him, but the indignity of a guard was spared him. Soojah refused to see him, on the ground that he should be "unable to show common civility to such a villain." Many, however, who had held persistently aloof from Soojah, came to pay their respects to one whom they still regarded as their lawful ruler; one of them, Shere Mahomed, known as the swiftest mounted messenger in all Afghanistan, exclaiming, as he grasped his chief cordially by the hand, "Ah, Ameer, you have done right at last; why did you delay so long putting an end to all your miseries?" Within a few days the Ameer's son, Afzul Khan, followed his father's example, and on November 13th the two illustrious prisoners set out for India, under the charge of Nicholson and a strong escort of British troops.
As in the previous year the court passed the winter months at Jellalabad. Cotton was already there on his way down to India, "anxious to get away," and only waiting the arrival of his successor, General Elphinstone. Elphinstone was a brave, kindly, and courteous old gentleman; he had seen service in the Peninsular, and bore the Waterloo medal, but he was entirely without experienceof Indian warfare; was, moreover, sadly crippled in health, and unfortunately destitute of the very qualities of energy and foresight which were peculiarly necessary to his position. His appointment was made against his own personal inclinations, nor was it precisely clear on what grounds it had been made, save on the grounds that he was a relation of Lord Elphinstone, at that time Governor of Bombay. But he was ordered to assume the command, and, as a soldier, he obeyed his orders. Cotton handed over his charge, and took his leave with these words, "You will have nothing to do here; all is peace." Never was there made a more unfortunate remark.
The winter passed in tolerable quiet, but with the return of spring came back the old troubles. The first symptoms of disquiet appeared again in the neighbourhood of Candahar. Two admirable officers were in charge there, Nott and Rawlinson, the former holding the military, the latter the political command. The irrepressible Ghilzyes were again in revolt, and the Douranees had risen to join them. Soojah was particularly eager to conciliate the latter tribe, and had, when at Candahar, remitted many of the impositions which hadrendered the Barukzye rule so odious; but he had also, as has been already said, retained in office the equally odious tax-collectors who had been employed under the latter dynasty, and the Douranees, anticipating complete redress, and probably substantial rewards, were irritated past endurance to find their state no better under their own king than it had been under the usurper. Long ripe for revolt, their disaffection had been secretly fomented by that indefatigable traitor the Herat Vizier, Yar Mahomed, whose intrigues found a willing tool in Aktur Khan, a chief of the Zemindawer country. Rawlinson, anxious to try the effect of conciliatory measures, and believing with Burnes that Afghanistan was not to be settled at the point of the bayonet, despatched his assistant Elliot to confer with the insurgents. The mission was successful for the time; Aktur Khan "came in;" certain concessions were made, and certain honours conferred upon him, in return for which he promised to disband his followers. But the peace, as Rawlinson anticipated, was short-lived. The gallant but imprudent conduct of Lynch, our political agent among the Ghilzye tribes, in storming a small fort near Khelat-i-Ghilzye, to avenge an insult offered him by the garrison, had set that turbulent countryin a flame. Wymer was sent out by Nott to settle matters, which he did effectively enough. The Ghilzyes, under a famous leader known as the "Gooroo," fought like madmen, holding our troops in check for five fierce hours; but they gave way at last, and fled, leaving the greater part of their number dead or dying on the field. Aktur Khan, fired by the example, scattered his promises to the winds, and instead of disbanding, collected anew his forces for another struggle. Woodburn, a dashing officer, met him on the banks of the Helmund, and defeated him after a smart engagement, but the British forces were insufficient to follow up the victory, and on reaching Ghiresk Woodburn was compelled to await the arrival of more troops from Candahar. Thence, strongly reinforced, he moved out on August 17th, and after a short but sharp struggle, in which the Janbaz, or Afghan Horse, for once in a way behaved with great gallantry, Aktur Khan fled, completely routed, and for a time again there was peace among the Douranees. The Ghilzyes, too, at the same time had received so severe a repulse from Chambers, that even they were forced to abstain from action for a while, and the dreaded "Gooroo" was at last prevailed on to "come in" to the English camp. On the north-westernfrontier our troops had been equally successful under Nott and Wymer. Akrum Khan, a close ally of Aktur Khan, was in arms in the Dehrawut country, and would submit neither to promises, threats, nor force. Treachery, however, did its work at last. One of his own countrymen offered to betray him, and by a rapid night march the rebel was seized, and carried down a close prisoner to Candahar. Macnaghten, at times humane almost to a fault, had at length resolved to give a terrible example to these continued disturbers of the public peace. Orders were sent down to Prince Timour, who governed for his father at Candahar, and who would have obeyed any orders emanating from his English allies, and Akrum Khan was blown from a gun. By the end of October, 1841, there at last seemed really a prospect of peace in Western Afghanistan.
Despite the warnings of Rawlinson, who could see farther below the surface than most of his comrades, and who knew well that there was something more than mere discontent at an obnoxious tax lurking in the hearts of the western tribes—despite, too, the shadow of Akbar Khan, Dost Mahomed's favourite son, who was still hovering about our northern frontier—Macnaghten's spirits rose higher than theyhad ever risen before. Of a temperament peculiarly susceptible to the influence of the hour, he was alternately depressed and exalted beyond reason, as the varying fortunes of our arms favoured or threatened the ultimate success of his plans. After the disaster of Purwandurrah he was convinced that the game was lost; after the discomfiture of the Ghilzyes and the death of Akrum Khan he was equally convinced that the game was won, and in one of his letters, written about this time to a private friend, he boasted that the country was quiet "from Dan to Beersheba." The well-earned reward of his labours had come at last in the shape of the Government of Bombay; within a few weeks he hoped to turn his back on the scene of so many anxieties and so many disappointments, leaving to his successor the legacy of an accomplished task. That successor would of course be Burnes; Burnes, who had a clearer eye for the future than his chief, and who felt in his inmost heart that the end of such a system as had been established in Afghanistan could not be far off, yet who, impatient for Macnaghten's departure, was willing to dare all risks, so that he might at last touch the goal of his ambition. And at this very time, in that serene sky, the cloud was gathering that was to break when least expected, andoverwhelm Macnaghten and Burnes and the whole English cause in utter ruin.
Elphinstone, as has been said, was now in command of the British forces. Next in rank to him were Sir Robert Sale, of the 13th Light Infantry, and Brigadier Shelton, who had come up in the spring of the year with his regiment, the 44th of the Line. Soojah's own troops were under Brigadier Anquetil, who had superseded Roberts, much to Macnaghten's satisfaction, for Roberts was too much of an "alarmist" to please the sanguine Envoy. The main body of the garrison lay in the new cantonments. These remarkable works had been erected in the previous year. Situated in low, swampy ground about two miles from the citadel, they were defended only by a low mud rampart and ditch, over which a pony had been ridden for a wager by one of our own officers; they were commanded on every side by hills and villages, while, to make matters still worse, the Commissariat supplies were stored in a small fort without the wall. The authority for this unfortunate arrangement has been the subject of much discussion, into which it would be neither profitable nor pleasant to enter here; but it should not, at least, be forgotten that our engineer officers had always urged most strongly the expediency ofposting the troops in the Bala Hissar, or citadel, a strong position on a hill commanding the entire city and suburbs. At first, indeed, this had been done, but the soldiers were soon required to give way to the ladies of Soojah's harem, and it was then deemed necessary, by some person or persons, to build what Kaye aptly calls "the sheep-folds on the plain." Elphinstone, at any rate, was not to blame, whoever was, for the folly had been committed before Elphinstone had assumed the command.
But familiarity, as usual, soon begot security, and in this dangerous position our officers and men soon learned to live as tranquilly and easily as in the strongest fortress in the world, or as in the luxurious quarters they had left in peaceful Hindostan. The time passed pleasantly enough. Lady Macnaghten and Lady Sale had joined their husbands, and nearly all the married officers had followed the example of their chiefs. The climate was fine and bracing, nor was there any lack either of amusement or society. Englishmen carry their sports with them into every quarter of the globe, and the stolid Afghans looked in amazement and admiration on the races, the cricket, and the skating with which the white-faced infidels beguiled the idle days. But there were unfortunately other habits in which someof the English chose to indulge which stirred up in the native heart feelings of a very different nature, habits which have already been briefly touched upon, and which were growing fast into an open and notorious scandal. "There are many," wrote Kaye in 1851, "who can fill in with vivid personality all the melancholy details of this chapter of human weakness, and supply a catalogue of the wrongs which were soon to be so fearfully redressed."
Macnaghten proposed to set his face towards home in November. His last days, as ill-fortune would have it, had been again embittered with revolt, arising from an unpopular measure which he had felt himself obliged to sanction. Our sojourn in Afghanistan had been a fearful drain on the resources of the Indian Government, and the need for economy had been urgently pressed upon Lord Auckland by the authorities at home. Macnaghten, casting about for the means of obeying his chief's instructions, unluckily hit upon the most unfortunate means he could have chosen. He determined to inaugurate a general system of retrenchment in the stipends, or subsidies, paid to the chiefs, and as a beginning, the sum of £3000, which had been yearly paid to the Eastern Ghilzyes to secure our communications with Hindostan, was forthwith stopped. Asa natural result they at once flew to arms, occupied the passes on the road to Jellalabad, commenced an organised system of plundering, and entirely cut off the communications it was our greatest interest to keep open. But the Envoy was not very seriously disturbed. Sale's brigade, which was under orders for India, could "thresh the rascals" on its homeward journey, and clear the passes easily enough. Monteith was accordingly sent out with the 35th Native Infantry, a squadron of cavalry, and some guns, and Sale followed with his own regiment, the 13th Light Infantry. The task was not so easy as the Envoy had anticipated. Sale himself was wounded and Wyndham, of the 35th, killed. It was found necessary to despatch more troops before the work could be done. It was done, however, partly by force and partly by diplomacy; the Khoord-Cabul defile was once more cleared; detachments of troops were posted at intervals along the pass, while Sale himself, halting at Gundamuck, put away his ideas of home for a time.
November 1st was the day fixed for Macnaghten's departure. He was not without warnings that for some days past there had existed strong symptoms of disaffection in the city, where the shopkeepers were closing their shutters, and refusing to sell theirwares to the English. John Conolly, a relative of the Envoy's, had got an inkling of what was meditated, while Mohun Lal, an interpreter, who had served us faithfully from the time of our first entry into the country, had directly warned Burnes of a conspiracy of which Abdoolah Khan, one of our most uncompromising opponents, was the prime instigator, and in which the chiefs of all the tribes then assembled in Cabul were alike implicated. But Burnes was still under the orders of Macnaghten, and Macnaghten still refused to listen to the "croakers." On that very evening the conspirators met for the last time, and on the morning of the 2nd the city rose in insurrection.
Burnes himself was the first victim. His house was within the city walls, next to that of Captain Johnson, the paymaster of Soojah's troops. On the previous night Johnson had slept in the cantonments, but Burnes was at home, and with him his brother Charles, and William Broadfoot, an able officer, who had been selected by the expectant Envoy for the post of military secretary. Before daybreak he had again been warned of his danger by a friendly native, and at a later hour came Osman Khan, the Vizier himself, with the same tale, imploring him to seek safety either in thecitadel or the cantonments. Burnes could no longer disbelieve, for already an angry crowd was gathering under his windows, and angry voices were raised in clamour for the lives of the Englishmen. He consented to write to the Envoy for aid, and to send messengers to Abdoolah Khan, promising him that if he would restrain the citizens his grievances should receive prompt redress. Why no immediate answer was returned to the first of these messages has never been made perfectly clear; the latter resulted only in the death of the messenger. Meanwhile Burnes himself was haranguing the mob from an upper gallery, while his brother and the guard were firing on them from below. In vain he appealed to their avarice; the only answer was that he should "come down into the garden." A Cashmerian, who had found his way into the house, swore to pass him and his brother out in safety to the cantonments, if the latter would bid the firing cease. Hastily disguising themselves, the brothers followed the man to the door, but scarcely had they set foot beyond it, when the traitor shouted with a loud voice, "This is Sekunder Burnes!" In a moment the mob were on them, and, hacked to pieces by the cruel Afghan knives, then fell the first, but not the last victims of a long series of mistakes.
The paymaster's house was next sacked; upwards of £17,000 of the public money and £1000 of Johnson's private fortune fell to the share of the murderers. No force came from the cantonments to check them, and the only effort made in the early part of the day was made by Soojah himself, who sent one of his own regiments down from the Bala Hissar into the city. Entangled in a network of narrow lanes and bazaars, they could do no good, and Shelton, coming up later with a small body of infantry and artillery, was in time only to cover a disorderly flight. It is difficult to decide on the true cause of the lateness of Shelton's arrival, but it is certain that had Burnes's message received prompt attention, the insurrection, for that time at least, would have been nipped in the bud. That such was the opinion of the Afghans themselves many of our officers were subsequently assured, and the fact that none of the chief conspirators took any part in the first outbreak seems to give colour to the supposition that it was not the original design to proceed to such extremities as followed, but rather to convey to the British such a warning as might convince them of the hopelessness of their cause, and induce them at last to take measures to leave the country to its own devices. Be this,however, as it may, nothing was done till the time had passed for anything to be of use, and a riot which 300 resolute men could have quelled with ease in the morning, would in the afternoon have taxed, if not defied, the best energies of 3000.
The history of the days which followed between the first rising and the opening of negotiations is as difficult to write as it is painful to read. So many and so conflicting are the accounts that have been received, that it is impossible within a limited space to present a distinct and coherent narrative of events, or, without the risk of a hasty conclusion, to apportion, even were it desirable to do so, the precise share of responsibility to each actor in that dismal tragedy of errors. It is certain, at least, that from the 2nd to the 25th November the utmost confusion and dismay prevailed within the British cantonments. No two of the authorities seem ever to have counselled alike; there was disunion between Elphinstone and Macnaghten, and disunion even between Elphinstone and Shelton. Orders were issued one hour to be countermanded the next, and then re-issued. There was no lack of individual boldness in council, and, among the officers, no lack of individual bravery in action, but want of co-operation rendered both alike useless. Ourstrength was frittered away in a series of petty sorties, conducted by insufficient numbers, and generally ordered when the time for immediate action was past. Our soldiers, even our own English soldiers, disheartened and demoralized by repeated defeats, for which they felt that they themselves were not to blame, lost confidence alike in their commanders and in themselves. It is said that it was actually found necessary to employ a Sepoy guard to prevent the soldiers of an English regiment leaving their post, and it is certain that on one, if not on more than one occasion, our men fairly turned their backs and ran before the Afghan hordes. At an early day, as might well have been foreseen, the forts containing the Commissariat supplies and stores fell into the enemy's hands, and though this disaster was for a time remedied by the energies of our Commissariat officers, who had fortunately not been lost with the stores, and who managed to collect supplies from some of the neighbouring villages, there soon arose a new danger in the doubt whether the the siege would not outlast the ammunition. Urgent and frequent messages had been sent to bring up Sale's brigade, which was supposed to be still among the Khoord-Cabul hills, and to Eldred Pottinger to join the garrison with his detachment from Charekur,a place about 60 miles north of Cabul. But Sale's brigade was already on its march to Jellalabad, and of Pottinger's detachment only he and another officer reached Cabul alive. To crown all, it was known that Akbar Khan was moving down from Bamean. On the 23rd a strong force of cavalry and infantry, but accompanied, through what strange process of reasoning it is impossible to say, by only one gun, moved out under Shelton to occupy a hill commanding the sources of our supplies, which had been recently threatened by the enemy. The expedition was a total failure. Shelton himself behaved with conspicuous gallantry, and his officers nobly followed his example; but the men, discouraged by frequent defeat, and finding their muskets no match for the Afghan jezails, were mown down like grass, till, having lost their solitary piece of artillery, they fled in disgraceful panic back to the cantonments. With this disastrous attempt concluded all exterior operations, and on the same day Macnaghten received instructions from Elphinstone to open negotiations for surrender.
At the first meeting the terms offered were so insulting that Macnaghten refused to continue the conference. His hopes, too, had somewhat revived of late by a communication from Mohun Lal, whomhe had secretly employed to sow, with offers of large bribes, dissensions among the hostile chiefs, and by the news of the death of two of our bitterest foes, Abdoolah Khan and Meer Musjedee. Whether these men died from wounds received in battle, or by assassins set on by Mohun Lal, is not certain, but it seems tolerably clear that the interpreter was instigated by some one in the British camp to offer large sums of money for the heads of the principal insurgents. As a set-off to this, however, came grave reports from the Commissariat department, and the news that there was little prospect of Maclaren's brigade, which had set out from Candahar to their relief, being able to win its way to Cabul. On December 11th, therefore, negotiations were renewed. Akbar Khan, who had by this time joined his countrymen amid uproarious expressions of delight, with the chiefs of all the principal tribes, met the Envoy on the banks of the Cabul river, about a mile from the cantonments. Macnaghten read in Persian the draft treaty he had prepared, of which the main stipulations were to the following effect:—That the British troops in Afghanistan should be withdrawn to India as speedily as possible, accompanied by two Sirdars of rank as guarantees of safe conduct; that on their arrival at Peshawur arrangementsshould at once be made for the return of Dost Mahomed and all others of his countrymen at that time detained in India; that Soojah should be allowed to depart with the troops, or to remain where he was on a suitable provision, as he might prefer; and that four "respectable" British officers were to be left at Cabul as hostages for the due fulfilment of the treaty until the return of Dost Mahomed and his family. After a discussion of two hours the terms were accepted, and it was agreed that the evacuation of our position should commence in three days' time. Such a treaty is not to be read with pleasure, but it was possibly the best that could have been concluded under the circumstances that had arisen; for which Macnaghten himself appears, at least, to have been less responsible than his military colleagues, at whose urgent and repeated instigations he had undertaken the work.
It became soon apparent how little dependence was to be placed on the Afghan word. On the 13th, according to the stipulation, the British troops stationed in the citadel left their quarters, about six o'clock on a winter's evening. Scarcely had they cleared the gates, when an ugly rush was made for them by the crowd outside. The gates were immediately closed, and the guns of the citadel opened anindiscriminate fire on friends and foes alike. Akbar Khan declared that at that late hour he could not undertake their safe conduct to the cantonments, and the men were therefore obliged to pass the night on the frosty ground, without tents, without food, and without fuel. On the following morning they reached the cantonments in safety, but half-dead with hunger and exposure. It had been agreed that the Afghans should supply the necessary provisions and carriage for the march; but it had also been agreed that the British forts in the neighbourhood of their position should be given up. The Afghans refused to play their part till we had played ours, and the forts were accordingly placed in their hands. Still, provisions came in but slowly, and carriage not at all. A horde of robbers and fanatics swarmed between the city and the cantonments, plundering under our very eyes the few supplies that were sent in, but as they were now to be considered "as our allies" not a shot was permitted to be fired. Yet even then Macnaghten continued to hope against hope, that "something might turn up" to spare the humiliation of an enforced retreat, and on the evening of the 22nd it seemed to him that such a chance had arrived. It came in the shape of a proposal from Akbar Khan that he and the Ghilzyesshould, in the face of the concluded treaty, unite with the English to re-occupy the citadel and the abandoned forts; that our forces should be allowed to remain in Afghanistan till the spring, and then withdraw as though of their own free-will; that the head of the formidable Ameen-oolah Khan should be sent to the Envoy, and that in consideration of all these good offices Akbar Khan himself should receive an annuity of four lakhs of rupees from the British Government, together with a bonus of thirty lakhs. The offer of murder was indignantly rejected, but with the others Macnaghten closed at once, and on the following morning, having requested that two regiments with some guns might be held ready for instant service, he rode out to the proposed place of conference, accompanied by Lawrence, Trevor and Mackenzie. The latter, indeed, learning the new design, ventured to expostulate with his chief on the risk he was about to run, while Elphinstone earnestly implored him to pause before he committed himself to so perilous and so crooked a course; but despising warnings and advice alike, Macnaghten rode hopefully out to his death.
Among some small hillocks about 600 yards from the cantonments the meeting was appointed; salutations were exchanged, the party dismounted, andthe Envoy and the Khan seated themselves on the ground. Scarcely had the conversation been opened, when the chiefs began to close in on the little group. It was pointed out to Akbar that as the conference was a secret one, they should be advised to withdraw; he answered that it was of no matter, as they were all in the plot with him. The words had not left his lips when the Englishmen were seized. Trevor, Lawrence and Mackenzie were flung each behind a mounted Afghan and galloped off to one of the forts, through a crowd of armed fanatics, who cut and struck at them as they passed. On the way Trevor slipped from his seat and was instantly hacked to pieces, but the others got safely through. As they were hurried away, Lawrence turned his head and saw the Envoy struggling in the grasp of Akbar Khan, "with an awful look of horror and consternation on his face;" a pistol shot was heard soon after, and no English eye ever saw Macnaghten alive or dead again. Such was the end of the attempt of an honest Englishman to outwit the most treacherous people in the world.
On the following day new terms were sent to Elphinstone to be added to the existing treaty—that first treaty which Macnaghten had lost his life in attempting to evade. These required that the gunswith the exception of six, and all the muskets, save those in actual use, should be given up, and that the numbers of hostages should be increased. Eldred Pottinger, who had succeeded to the Envoy's place, strongly combated this additional insult, giving his undaunted voice for the immediate seizure of the citadel, or at least for one last attempt to fight their way sword in hand down to Jellalabad. His brave counsel was overruled; the guns and muskets were given up, a few at a time, in the vain hope that in some way the treaty might yet be averted, or perhaps to alleviate, if possible, the humiliation of the surrender; Captains Walsh and Drummond, with Lieutenants Warburton and Webb were sent to join Lieutenants Conolly and Airy, who were already in the hands of the chiefs, and such of the sick and wounded as were unable to bear the fatigues of the march were conveyed into the city under Doctors Berwick and Campbell. On the 6th of January, 1842, before the promised escorts had arrived, the British army, contrary again to Pottinger's advice, moved out from the cantonments, and the fatal march began.
The British troops that marched out on that 6th January numbered 4500 fighting men, of whom 700 were Europeans, and about 12,000 camp followers.Of this force two men reached Jellalabad alive, one of whom died on the following day. The married officers and their wives, with all the women and children, and a few of the wounded, were on the third day of the retreat placed in the care of Akbar Khan, who, to give him such credit as is his due, for once kept his word when he promised to treat them honourably and well; six more officers, including the General himself and Shelton, at a later period fell or were surrendered as hostages, into the same hands, and were carried back up country, though Elphinstone, sick in body as in heart, prayed hard to be allowed to die with his men; Captain Souter, of the 44th, who had wrapped the regimental colours round his waist, was taken prisoner with a few private soldiers at Gundamuck, where the last stand was made by the gallant handful who had survived the horrors of the pass. The rest of the Europeans perished to a man beneath the knives and bullets of their "allies." Among the Native troops and camp followers the loss was probably less than was at the time, and has been generally since, supposed. Some of the former deserted in sheer terror to the Afghans, and some of the latter it is possible found hiding-places among the mountains, whence, when the noise of battle had passed on, they contrived to make goodtheir escape; yet thousands fell beneath the murderous rain that poured down night and day upon the defenceless rabble, and thousands, untouched by shot or steel, from utter weariness sank down into the snow to rise no more. Had the march been pushed on from the first with more expedition, it is probable that at least a far larger number would have been saved; but that, owing to the general demoralisation that had set in, inspired by the irresolution of the commander, and aggravated by the disorderly crowd of camp-followers, whose terror quenched all notions of discipline, was precisely what could not be done. From dawn vast hordes of Ghazee fanatics had hung on the rear, cutting off stragglers, plundering the baggage, and from every coign of vantage firing indiscriminately into the struggling line. The roads were slippery with ice, and on the evening of the first day the snow began to fall; on the second day the march became but "a rabble in chaotic rout." The European troops indeed, set a glorious example. The officers did all that mortals could do to preserve discipline, and the men, obeying so far as it was possible to obey, nobly redeemed their former errors; but hampered by a helpless crowd whose one thought of safety was not to fight but to fly, it was but little that they coulddo. Here and there a stand was made by gallant handfuls of our men, and where the English stood, there the Afghans fled, but these momentary triumphs served rather to increase than to check the fury of our foes. Enough of a melancholy and shameful tale—let it be sufficient to say that when Brydon reached Jellalabad on the 13th the army of Cabul had for all practical purposes disappeared from off the face of the earth.
The news came upon the Government like a thunder-stroke. The last days of Lord Auckland's administration were drawing near, and as he read Macnaghten's sanguine despatches he fondly hoped that it would be his fortune to return to England, not only the conqueror, but the tranquilizer of Afghanistan. Towards the close of the year, indeed, rumours of a disquieting nature had found their way down to Calcutta, and when all rumours ceased it became evident that our communications were interrupted, and that something serious had happened; but not even the gloomiest dared to anticipate the worst: on January 30th the worst was known.
Though there was anything but unanimity in the Calcutta Council, some preparations, chiefly through the energetic representations of George Clerk, our agent on the north-western frontier, had been madebefore the full tidings of the disaster came down. It had appeared to some, of whom was Sir Jasper Nicolls, then Commander-in-chief in India, that it was better to accept the blow, and withdraw altogether behind the Indus, than by attempting to retrieve still further to deepen our disgrace. Sale still held Jellalabad in the teeth of overwhelming numbers; Nott was still master of Candahar;—let them yield up the charge they had so nobly kept, and if too weak to find their own way down to India, let troops sufficient for their help advance, but for no other purpose. Lord Auckland, unwilling to commit his successor to a task which had already proved too strong for his own energies, was inclined to listen to the advocates of retreat, and though the news of the annihilation of the army of Cabul roused him for the moment into a proclamation that the awful calamity was but "a new occasion for displaying the stability and vigour of the British power, and the admirable spirit and valour of the British-Indian army," he quickly followed it by an intimation that when Sale and Nott had been relieved, it were better that the British troops should withdraw to Peshawur. Still, fresh forces were to be raised, and a fine soldier was to head them. The offer had been first made toMajor-General Lumley, Adjutant-General in India, but Lumley's health forbade him to accept so important a post, and Lord Auckland's choice—a choice as popular as it was judicious—finally fell upon Pollock, a distinguished officer of the Company's service, who had seen fighting under Lake and Wellington, and wherever, indeed, it was to be seen since the year 1803, when he had first landed in India, a young lieutenant of artillery. Pollock hastened up to his command without a moment's delay, but before he could reach Peshawur our troops had suffered yet another repulse.
Mr. Robertson, Lieutenant-Governor of the north western frontier, and George Clerk, already mentioned, had counselled from the first prompt measures, not of retreat, but reprisal. At their earnest request Colonel Wild had been moved up to Peshawur with four native infantry regiments, the 30th, 53rd, 60th and 64th, but without guns. It was supposed he could procure them from the Sikhs, and with a great deal of trouble he did manage to procure four ricketty guns, which seemed likely to do as much harm to his own men as to the enemy, and one of which broke down the next day on trial. Reinforcements were coming up, which it was probable would contain artillery, but Wild did notdare to wait. His Sepoys were anxious to advance; the loyalty of the Sikhs was doubtful, and he feared the contamination might spread. On January 15th he commenced operations.
The key of the Khyber Pass, as we have all heard more than once within the last few weeks, is the fortress of Ali Musjid, occupying a strong position some five miles down the pass, and about twenty-five from Peshawur. It had been recently garrisoned by some loyal natives under an English officer, Mackeson; but, straitened for provisions, and hard pressed by the Khyberees, it was doubtful whether the brave little garrison could hold out much longer, and on the night of the 15th the 53rd and 64th Regiments, under Colonel Moseley, were despatched with a goodly supply of bullocks to its relief. The fort was occupied without loss, but the bullocks, save some 50 or 60, had meanwhile disappeared, and there were now more mouths to feed in Ali Musjid and less wherewith to feed them. Wild was to have followed with the other two regiments, his Sikh guns and Sikh allies, on the 19th, but when the time came the latter turned their backs on the Khyber and marched to a man back to Peshawur. The Sepoys met the enemy at the mouth of the pass, but the spirit of disaffection seemed to havespread. After an irresolute and aimless volley they halted in confusion: in vain Wild and his officers called on them to advance; not a man moved; the guns broke down, and one of them, despite the gallant efforts of Henry Lawrence, had to be abandoned. One of our officers was killed, and Wild himself, with several more, was wounded; the retreat was sounded, and the column fell back on Jumrood. The two regiments which held the fort had soon to follow their example. They could have held the post for any time indeed, so far as mere fighting went, but they had no provisions, and the water was poisonous. On the 23rd, then, they evacuated their position, and after a sharp struggle, in which two English officers fell, and some sick and baggage had to be abandoned, made good their way back to their comrades. Such was the state of affairs Pollock found on his arrival at Peshawur.
Despite urgent letters received from Jellalabad the General saw that an immediate advance was impossible. The morale of the defeated Sepoys had fallen very low; the hospitals were crowded with sick and wounded, and there was still an insufficiency of guns. Reinforcements of British dragoons and British artillery were pressing up from the Punjab, and Pollock decided to wait till he could makecertain of success. He decided well; nor was the time of waiting lost. He visited the hospitals daily, cheering the sick, and reanimating by his kindness and decision the wavering and disheartened Sepoys. On March 30th the long-desired reinforcements arrived, and orders were at once issued for the advance.
At three o'clock on the morning of April 5th the army moved off from Jumrood to the mouth of the pass. It was divided into three columns; two of these were to crown the heights on either side, while the third, when the hills had been sufficiently cleared, was to advance through the gorge; each column was composed of a mixed force of Europeans and Sepoys; four squadrons of the 3rd Dragoons and eleven pieces of artillery accompanied the centre column. The attack was as successful as it was ingenious. A huge barricade of mud and stones and trunks of trees had been thrown across the mouth of the pass, while the heights on either side swarmed with the wild hill-tribes. So quietly, however, did our flanking columns advance, that they were half-way up the heights before the enemy became aware of the movement. From peak to peak our men, English as well as Sepoys, clambered as agile as the mountaineers themselves, pouring from every spot ofvantage a steady and well-directed fire on the disconcerted Khyberees, who had never dreamed that the white-faced infidels could prove more than a match for them in their own fastnesses. Then Pollock with the main column advanced. The Afghans, finding themselves out-flanked on either side, gradually withdrew; the barricade was removed without loss; and the huge line of soldiers, camp-followers, and baggage-waggons passed unopposed on its victorious way to Jellalabad. The dreaded Khyber Pass had been forced with the slightest possible loss of life, and the boastful Afghans beaten at their own tactics. On the 16th Jellalabad was reached. With what intense delight Sale's noble brigade saw once more from their walls the colours of a friendly force may well be imagined. For five weary months the little band had resisted every offer of surrender, and beaten back every assault. In February the fortifications that had been raised and strengthened by Broadfoot with infinite labour were destroyed by an earthquake; and at that very time they learnt that Akbar Khan was advancing on them. The works, however, were restored, and in a dashing sortie, commanded by Dennie, the Afghan chief, with the flower of the Barukzye Horse, was drivenfrom his position without the loss of a single man to the garrison. A few days before Pollock arrived a still more daring enterprise had been attempted. On April 5th another sortie in force was sent out under Dennie, Monteith, and Havelock, which bore down on the Afghan camp, and sent Akbar Khan flying with his 6000 men far away in the direction of Lughman—a dashing exploit, and a complete victory, but dearly won, for it was won at the cost of the gallant Dennie. The meeting between the two armies was, wrote Pollock to a friend, "a sight worth seeing;" according to Mr. Gleig the band of the 13th went out to play the relieving force in, and the entry was performed to the tune of "Oh, but ye've been lang o' coming."
Still there was plenty yet to be done, if only the English soldiers might be allowed to do it. At first it seemed doubtful whether Lord Ellenborough, who had succeeded Lord Auckland in February, would be more willing to sanction a forward movement than was his predecessor. On his first landing, no one could have been more eager than he to avenge the humiliation of Cabul, but as he went up the country his opinions began to suffer a change. Soojah had been murdered about the very time that the Khyber Pass was forced, by the treachery of ason of Zemaun Khan (a faithful friend to the English, by whose good offices the English captives were still living in safety, if not in comfort); his son Futteh Jung had been nominally appointed to succeed him, but his government was no more than a farce. Jealous of each other, and jealous particularly of the rising power of Akbar Khan, it was plain that the Afghan Sirdars would never rest till the strength and popularity of Dost Mahomed was once more among them to restore and maintain order. Was it not better to accept the inevitable, to withdraw our troops, now that it could be done with comparative honour, and to leave the country to its own king and its own devices? It was doubtful how much longer the brave Nott could maintain himself in Candahar, and the force that had been sent out from Sindh under England to relieve him had been beaten back at the Kojuck Pass; Ghuznee, after a stubborn resistance, had fallen, and the British officers sent prisoners to Cabul. Lord Ellenborough cannot be blamed for hesitating at such a crisis; but the urgent prayers of Pollock, Nott, and Outram at last prevailed, and orders were given that the military commanders might use their own discretion, while they were at the same time warned that failure meant theinevitable fall of the British Empire in the East. The responsibility was gladly taken, and the advance commenced which was to retrieve, as far as it was possible to retrieve, the shame of all former failure.
The advance was an unbroken series of victories. England, reinforced with some British troops, had moved out again from Quettah, cleared the Kojuck Pass, and joined Nott at Candahar. With a force now raised to a strength equal to that which lay at Jellalabad, Nott, resolute to "retire to India" by way of Ghuznee and Cabul, lost no time in setting to work. Dividing his troops, he took with him the 40th and 41st Regiments of the Line, and the "beautiful Sepoy" Regiments that had stood by him so well, and despatched the rest back to India in charge of England, in whose hands also he placed Prince Timour, whom, after his father's death it was alike dangerous to take to Cabul or to leave at Candahar. About the same time Pollock, with 8000 men of all arms, including the 31st Regiment of the Line and the 3rd Dragoons, moved out from Jellalabad on the Khoord-Cabul Pass, that blood-stained theatre of an awful tragedy. The enemy were in force at Jugdulluck, but Pollock, employing the same tactics that had been so efficacious among the Khyber hills, sent out flanking parties to clear the heights,while from below his guns kept up a hot fire of shells on their position. The Ghilzyes fought bravely, but they could not stand against the English troops in open fight, and with as little loss as in his first engagement Pollock led his men into the pass. Seven miles within, in the little valley of Tezeen, Akbar Khan, with 16,000 of his best troops, resolved to make one last throw for victory. He threw and lost. While the English Dragoons met and broke the charge of the Afghan horse, the English infantry, gallantly seconded by the Sepoys and Ghoorkahs, pressed up the heights under a heavy fire. Sale himself led the advanced column; Monteith and Broadfoot and McCaskill followed. Not a shot was fired by the stormers; thick and fast flew the bullets among them from the long Afghan jazails, but not an English musket answered. The work was done with the bayonet, and driven from crag to crag by that "beautiful weapon" alone, the enemy fled in confusion, till amid the ringing cheers of the whole British force the British flag waved on the highest pinnacle of the pass. This was Akbar Khan's last attempt; leaving his troops to shift for themselves, he fled northward to the Ghoreebund Valley; Pollock, over the crumbling skeletons of the comrades whom he had so worthily avenged, led his men intriumph to Cabul, and the British ensign once more flew from the heights of the Bala Hissar.
On September 15th Pollock reached Cabul, and on the 17th he was joined by Nott. After a slight check to the cavalry of his advanced guard, at an early period of his march, the latter's success had been as complete as Pollock's. At Ghoaine he had utterly routed a superior force of the enemy under Shumshoodeen Khan. Ghuznee had been evacuated before even our preparations for the assault were completed; the works were dismantled and blown up, the town and citadel fired, and the famous sandal-wood "gates of Somnauth," which, according to Afghan tradition, had adorned their famous Sultan's tomb for upwards of eight centuries, carried off in accordance with Lord Ellenborough's expressed desire. At Syderabad, where in the previous November Woodburn and his men had been treacherously massacred, Shumshoodeen turned again; the stand was stubborn and for a while the issue seemed doubtful; but the news of the defeat at Tezeen had spread, the Afghans lost heart, and abandoning their position left the way for Nott clear into Cabul.
The honour of the British arms was at last complete; 15,000 British troops were encamped in theAfghan capital, and from every quarter round submission was pouring in. Ameen-oollah Khan, who held out to the last, had been utterly routed in the Kohistan by a force under McCaskill, and Akbar Khan had also intimated his wish to treat for terms. The miserable Futteh Jung, who had already once been forced to fly for his life, was formally installed on his throne, but as formally warned that he was to expect no further aid or protection. The prospect before him was too much for his weak and timorous mind, and, in truth, it was far from a pleasant one; after a few days' nominal rule, he voluntarily resigned a crown which he would never have been able to keep, and Shahpoor, a high-spirited young boy of the Suddozye House, was seated in his stead.
Two things had yet to be done. The captives were to be recovered, and some unmistakeable mark of British retribution was to be stamped on Cabul.
Before Akbar Khan took the field for the last time he had despatched all the English hostages, together with the prisoners from Ghuznee, towards the Bamean frontier, under Saleh Mohamed. Pollock immediately on reaching Cabul had sent Sir Richmond Shakespeare, with a party of horse in hot haste after them, and subsequently a stronger force under Sale. Before, however, the rescue arrivedthe prisoners had effected their own deliverance through the medium of Saleh Mohamed's cupidity. On a promise, duly drawn up and signed by Pottinger, Lawrence and three others, of a heavy bribe, the Afghan had consented to escort them not to Turkestan and slavery, as had been intended, but back to the English camp, and it was at Kaloo, on their way down to Cabul, that, after more than eight months' daily expectation of death, they once more found themselves among English friends and safe under the English flag. Despite the many hardships and anxieties they had undergone, their health, even of the women and children, had been marvellously preserved, and their condition had, on the whole, been far better than any they could have hoped for when they exchanged the certain dangers of the retreat for the uncertain security of Akbar Khan's word. Two only of the little band that had turned their backs on the miseries of the Khoord-Cabul Pass were missing when they rode into Sale's camp, amid the cheers of the men and a salute of welcome from the guns. John Conolly, mourned by all who knew him, had died at Cabul a few days before the march for Bamean began, and in the previous April, after Pollock's victory had heralded the triumph which was to atone for the disasters that the British armshad experienced under his command, poor Elphinstone, after days of intense suffering in body and mind, and bewailing to the last that he had not been permitted to die with his men, passed away amid the affectionate sympathy of all his fellow-prisoners. His body was sent down to Jellalabad, and there interred with military honours in the presence of his victorious successor.
To set the seal of our triumph on Cabul it was determined to destroy the great Bazaar, where the mutilated body of Macnaghten had been exposed to the insults of his murderers. It had been first intended to demolish the citadel, but the Suddozye chiefs pleaded so earnestly for this last remnant of their royalty, that Pollock consented to spare it. During two days, October 9th and 10th, the work of destruction went on, and though every precaution was taken to prevent any farther loss beyond that ordered, and particularly any excess on the part of our soldiers, many suffered, and there was much excess. On the 11th the homeward march began. Futteh Jung had implored the safe conduct of the British from a kingdom where he was no king, and from subjects with whom his life was not worth an hour's purchase, and with him went for the second time into exile his blind old grandfather ZemaunShah. By the Khoord-Cabul and Khyber Passes, the scenes of so much misery and such grievous humiliation, the victorious army returned in triumph to Hindostan, and ere Ferozepore was reached they heard that the last of the Suddozye line had fled, that Akbar Khan had seized the throne in trust for his father, and that Dost Mahomed himself was even then on his way through the Punjab to resume his old dominion. And so the English army left secure on the throne of Afghanistan the dynasty they had spent so many millions of treasure and so many thousands of lives to overthrow.