CHAPTER V.

1856-1857

Lord Dalhousie's Afghan policy--Treaty with Dost Mahomed

--War with Persia--The advantage of the Amir's friendship

--John Nicholson--'A pillar of strength on the frontier'

Towards the close of the year 1856, a rumour reached us that the Amir,

Dost Mahomed Khan, was shortly expected to arrive at Peshawar to meet

the Chief Commissioner, Sir John Lawrence, who had recently been made

a K.C.B.

Before describing the Amir's visit and its results, it seems desirable

that I should briefly explain how and why the visit was brought about,

and then endeavour to show what an important bearing its results had

on the great crisis which occurred so unexpectedly a few months later.

It will be remembered that the murdered Mackeson was succeeded

as Commissioner of Peshawar by Herbert Edwardes, one of the most

remarkable men that the Indian army has ever produced, and who, as I

have already mentioned, entirely concurred in my father's expressed

opinion as to the great advantage it would be for the Government of

India to enter into more friendly relations with the Ruler of Kabul.

They both held that the constant troubles all along our frontier were

in a great measure due to the Amir's hostility, and that such troubles

would increase rather than diminish unless we could succeed in

establishing an _entente cordiale_ with Dost Mahomed.

In 1854 Edwardes had a correspondence with the Governor-General on the

subject, and on one occasion expressed himself as follows: 'My own

feeling is, that we have much injured Dost Mahomed, and may very well

afford to let by-gones be by-gones. It would contribute much to

the security of this frontier if open relations of goodwill were

established at Kabul. There is a sullenness in our present relations,

as if both parties were brooding over the past, and expecting an

opportunity in the future. This keeps up excitement and unrest, and

prevents our influence and institutions taking root. I should be very

glad to see a new account opened on the basis of an open treaty of

friendship and alliance.'

Lord Dalhousie was quite in accord with Edwardes. He thought it very

desirable to be on better terms with Kabul, but believed this to be

a result difficult to attain. 'I give you,' he said in a letter to

Edwardes, _carte blanche_, and if you can only bring about such a

result as you propose, it will be a new feather in your cap.'

Lord Dalhousie was supported by the British Government in his opinion

as to the desirability of coming to a better understanding with the

Amir. War with Russia was then imminent, and the strained condition of

European politics made it expedient that we should be on more amicable

terms with Afghanistan.

The Governor-General thus wrote to Edwardes:

'Prospects of a war between Russia and Turkey are watched with

interest by all.... In England they are fidgety regarding this border

beyond all reason, and most anxious for that declared amity and that

formal renewal of friendly relations which you advocate in your

letter.'

The balance of Indian opinion, however, was against our making

overtures to Dost Mahomed. John Lawrence, at that time the great power

in the Punjab, was altogether opposed to Edwardes's policy in this

matter. He admitted that it might be wise to renew intercourse

with the Kabul ruler if he first expressed his regret for previous

misunderstandings; but later he wrote to Edwardes:

'I dare say you are right; still, I cannot divest myself of the

idea that it is _a mistake_, and will end in mixing us up in

Afghan politics and affairs more than is desirable. The strength

which a treaty can give us seems to be a delusion. It will be like

the reed on which, if a man lean, it will break and pierce his

hand.'

John Nicholson, Outram, and James Abbott agreed with Lawrence.

They urged that any advance on our part would be looked upon as an

indication of conscious weakness; and the probability was that an

arrogant, irritated Mussulman ruler would regard an overture as a

proof of our necessity, and would make our necessity his opportunity.

But Lord Dalhousie, while anxious to avoid any communication being

made which could be liable to misconstruction, saw neither objection

nor risk in opening the door to reconciliation, provided no undue

anxiety was displayed on our part. The Governor-General practically

left the matter in the hands of Edwardes, who lost no time in trying

to attain the desired object. The greatest forbearance and diplomatic

skill were necessary to bring the negotiations to a satisfactory

termination, but they were concluded at last, most successfully, and

to Edwardes alone is due the credit. It is instructive to read the

full record[1] of this tedious and difficult piece of diplomacy,

for it serves as an interesting example of Oriental subtlety and

circumlocution, contrasted with the straightforward dealing of a

high-minded Englishman.

The Amir wrote a letter to the Governor-General couched in most

satisfactory terms, which he forwarded to Peshawar by the hand of his

confidential secretary, and which received, as it deserved, a very

friendly reply. This resulted in Dost Mahomed sending his son and

heir-apparent, Sardar Ghulam Haidar Khan, to Peshawar, and deputing

him to act as his Plenipotentiary in the negotiations. Ghulam Haidar

Khan reached Peshawar in March, 1855, where he was met by the Chief

Commissioner, and on the 30th of that month the treaty was concluded.

'It guaranteed that we should respect the Amir's possessions in

Afghanistan, and never interfere with them; while the Amir engaged

similarly to respect British territory, and to be the friend of our

friends and the enemy of our enemies.'

The Governor-General had at first resolved to entrust to Edwardes the

duty of meeting the expected Envoy from Kabul, and orders to that

effect were issued. But Edwardes, more anxious for the success of

the negotiations than for his own honour and glory, wrote to

Lord Dalhousie suggesting that the Government of India should be

represented by the Chief Commissioner of the Punjab, and promising to

afford Sir John Lawrence all the assistance in his power. Edwardes

believed that the importance of the treaty would be enhanced in the

eyes of the Afghans by the presence of the higher official; and in

this opinion the Governor-General concurred. On the conclusion of the

treaty, Lord Dalhousie wrote to Edwardes: 'I congratulate you and

myself and all else concerned on this successful issue of the

negotiations, which have now lasted just a year.'

This treaty of March, 1855, was only preliminary to that for the

ratification of which the Amir came in person to Peshawar the

following year.

Towards the end of 1855 Dost Mahomed found himaelf in considerable

difficulties, and appealed to us for assistance. A revolt had occurred

at Herat, and a Persian army was preparing to besiege that fortress;

the chiefs and people of Kandahar were disaffected; and the province

of Balkh was threatened with invasion both by the King of Bokhara and

by Turkoman hordes. The Amir looked upon Herat as an integral part of

the Afghan dominions, and was very desirous of re-establishing his

authority over that place and preventing its falling into the hands of

the Persians; but he felt himself too weak to have any hope of success

without help from us in men and money. It was, therefore, Dost

Mahomed's interest to convince the British Government that the Shah

had infringed the conditions of an engagement entered into with us in

1853, under which Persia abandoned all claim to Herat. The Amir thus

hoped to establish a quarrel between England and Persia for his own

benefit, and to secure our assistance against the latter power. To

further this design, Dost Mahomed offered to come to Peshawar and

consult with the British authorities. Edwardes was in favour of the

proposed visit. John Lawrence was opposed to it, saying he did not

think much good would result from such a meeting, because it could

hardly be anticipated that the views of the Amir and the British

Government would coincide, and if Dost Mahomed should fail to obtain

what he wanted, his dissatisfaction would be a positive evil. The

Governor-General admitted the force of these objections, but in the

end considered that they should be set aside if the Amir was in

earnest in desiring a consultation. 'A refusal or an evasion to comply

with his wish,' Lord Dalhousie thought, 'might be misunderstood, and

although a meeting might lead to disappointment and disagreement, it

would, at any rate, put the relations of the British Government with

the Amir, as regards Herat, upon a clear footing.'

While this discussion was going on, the advance of a Persian army for

the purpose of besieging Herat, coupled with the insults offered to

the British flag at Teheran, led to the declaration of war between

England and Persia. The Chief Commissioner was therefore directed to

tell the Amir that he would be paid a periodical subsidy to aid him

in carrying on hostile operations against Persia, subject to certain

conditions. On receiving these instructions, the Chief Commissioner

directed Edwardes to invite the Amir to an interview. Dost Mahomed

accepted the invitation, but before the auspicious meeting could take

place Lord Dalhousie had left India, and Lord Canning reigned in his

stead. Lord Dalhousie resigned on the 29th February, 1856, after

having filled the arduous and responsible position of Governor-General

for no less than eight years, adding year by year fresh lustre to his

splendid reputation.

The first day of 1857 witnessed the meeting between the Amir of Kabul

and the Chief Commissioner of the Punjab. The Amir's camp was pitched

at the mouth of the Khyber Pass, and that of the Chief Commissioner on

the plain near Jamrud. Barr's troop of Horse Artillery formed part of

the escort, so I was in the midst of it all. On the occasion of the

Amir's first visit to the English camp, there was a force present

of upwards of 7,000 soldiers, including three regiments of British

Infantry; the troops lined the road for more than a mile, and it was

evident that their strength and soldierly appearance inspired the

Amir and his followers with a very salutary feeling of awe and

admiration.[2]

The result of the conferences between these two great personages was

an agreement confirming the treaty of the year before. In addition,

the Amir bound himself to keep up a certain number of regular troops

for the defence of Afghanistan, so long as the war with Persia

continued, in consideration of a monthly subsidy of Rs. 100,000 and

a gift of 4,000 muskets. He also engaged to communicate to the

Government of India any overtures he might receive from Persia, and

he consented to allow British officers to visit certain parts of his

dominions, either for the purpose of assisting his subjects against

Persia, or to ascertain that the subsidy was properly applied.

I have dwelt at some length on this treaty with Afghanistan, first,

because the policy of which this was the outcome was, as I have

already shown, initiated by my father; and, secondly, because I do not

think it is generally understood how important to us were its results.

Not only did it heal the wounds left open from the first Afghan war,

but it relieved England of a great anxiety at a time when throughout

the length and breadth of India there was distress, revolt, bloodshed,

and bitter distrust of our Native troops. Dost Mahomed loyally held

to his engagements during the troublous days of the Mutiny which so

quickly followed this alliance, when, had he turned against us, we

should assuredly have lost the Punjab; Delhi could never have been

taken; in fact, I do not see how any part of the country north of

Bengal could have been saved. Dost Mahomed's own people could not

understand his attitude. They frequently came to him during the

Mutiny, throwing their turbans at his feet, and praying him as a

Mahomedan to seize that opportunity for destroying the 'infidels.'

'Hear the news from Delhi,' they urged; 'see the difficulties the

Feringhis are in. Why don't you lead us on to take advantage of their

weakness, and win back Peshawar?'[3]

But I am anticipating, and must return to my narrative.

The clause of the treaty which interested me personally was that

relating to British officers being allowed to visit Afghanistan,

to give effect to which a Mission was despatched to Kandahar. It

consisted of three officers, the brothers Harry and Peter Lumsden, and

Dr. Bellew, together with two of Edwardes's trusted Native Chiefs. The

selection of Peter Lumsden as a member of this Mission again left the

Deputy Assistant-Quartermaster-Generalship vacant, and I was a second

time appointed to officiate in his absence.

Shortly afterwards the General of the division (General Reed) started

on his tour of inspection, taking me with him as his staff officer.

Jhelum was the first place we visited. Whether the sepoys had then

any knowledge of what was so soon to happen is doubtful. If they had,

there was no evidence that such was the case. Nothing could have

been more proper or respectful than their behaviour; no crimes were

reported, no complaints were made. The British officers, certainly,

had not the slightest idea of the storm that was brewing, for they

spoke in the warmest terms of their men.

From Jhelum we went to Rawal Pindi. John Lawrence happened to be in

camp there at the time, and looked on at the General's inspection.

At the conclusion of the parade he sent his secretary to ask me if

I would like to be appointed to the Public Works Department. I

respectfully declined the offer, though very grateful for its having

been made. Some of my friends doubted the wisdom of my refusing

a permanent civil appointment; but it meant having to give up

soldiering, which I could not make up my mind to do, and though only

officiating, I was already in the department to which of all others I

wished to belong.

Nowshera was the last station we visited. It was the beginning of

April, and getting rather hot for parading troops. I there met for the

first time the present Commander-in-Chief in India, General Sir George

White, who was then a subaltern in the 27th (Inniskilling) Regiment.

I recollect the commanding officer of the 55th, the Native Infantry

corps at this station, who had served all his life with clean-looking,

closely-shaven Hindustanis, pointing with a look of contempt, not to

say disgust, to some Sikhs (a certain proportion of whom had been

under recent orders enlisted in regiments of Native Infantry), and

expressing his regret that he could not get them to shave their beards

and cut their hair. 'They quite spoil the look of my regiment,' he

said. In less than two months' time the Hindustanis, of whom the

Colonel was so proud, had broken into open mutiny; the despised Sikhs

were the only men of the regiment who remained faithful; and the

commanding officer, a devoted soldier who lived for his regiment, and

who implored that his men might not have their arms taken away, as he

had 'implicit confidence' in them, and would 'stake his life on their

fidelity,' had blown his brains out because he found that confidence

misplaced.

Towards the end of April I was ordered to report on the capabilities

of Cherat (now well known to all who have been stationed at Peshawar)

as a sanatorium for European soldiers. I spent two or three days

surveying the hill and searching for water in the neighbourhood. It

was not safe to remain on the top at night, so I used to return each

evening to the plain below, where my tent was pitched. On one occasion

I was surprised to find a camp had risen up during my absence quite

close to my tent. I discovered that it belonged to Lieutenant-Colonel

John Nicholson, the Deputy-Commissioner, who was on his tour of

inspection, and very soon I received an invitation to dine with him,

at which I was greatly pleased. John Nicholson was a name to conjure

with in the Punjab. I had heard it mentioned with an amount of

respect--indeed, awe--which no other name could excite, and I was all

curiosity to see the man whose influence on the frontier was so great

that his word was law to the refractory tribes amongst whom he lived.

He had only lately arrived in Peshawar, having been transferred from

Bannu, a difficult and troublesome district ruled by him as it had

never been ruled before, and where he made such a reputation for

himself that, while he was styled 'a pillar of strength on the

frontier' by Lord Dalhousie, he was looked up to as a god by the

Natives, who loved as much as they feared him. By some of them he was

actually worshipped as a saint; they formed themselves into a sect,

and called themselves 'Nicholseyns.' Nicholson impressed me more

profoundly than any man I had ever met before, or have ever met since.

I have never seen anyone like him. He was the beau-ideal of a soldier

and a gentleman. His appearance was distinguished and commanding, with

a sense of power about him which to my mind was the result of his

having passed so much of his life amongst the wild and lawless

tribesmen, with whom his authority was supreme. Intercourse with

this man amongst men made me more eager than ever to remain on the

frontier, and I was seized with ambition to follow in his footsteps.

Had I never seen Nicholson again, I might have thought that the

feelings with which he inspired me were to some extent the result of

my imagination, excited by the astonishing stories I had heard of his

power and influence; my admiration, however, for him was immeasurably

strengthened when, a few weeks later, I served as his staff officer,

and had opportunities of observing more closely his splendid soldierly

qualities and the workings of his grand, simple mind.

[Illustration: BRIGADIER-GENERAL JOHN NICHOLSON, C.B.

_From a painting by J.R. Dicksee, in the possession of the Reverend

Canon Seymour._]

It was the end of April when I returned to Peshawar from Cherat, and

rapidly getting hot. On the strength of being a D.A.Q.M.G., I had

moved into a better house than I had hitherto been able to afford,

which I shared with Lieutenant Hovenden of the Engineers. We were

just settling down and making ourselves comfortable for the long hot

weather, when all our plans were upset by the breaking out of the

Mutiny.

[Footnote 1: See 'Memorials of the Life and Letters of Major-General

Sir Herbert Edwardes.']

[Footnote 2: 'Memorials of Major-General Sir Herbert Edwardes.']

[Footnote 3: _Ibid._]

Forty-one years in India: from subaltern to commander-in-chief · 第 5 / 69 章