Soojah left the cold of the capital for the milder air of Jellalabad,
and with him went Macnaghten, leaving Burnes in charge at Cabul. The
winter months were passed in comparative quiet. Macnaghten busied
himself with an attempt to win the favour of the turbulent Khyber
tribes, and by lavish payments did succeed in lulling them to temporary
quiet. There, too, was received news of the fall of Khelat, which had
been determined on during the upward march as punishment for Mehrab
Khan's treachery, and still more important news from the Bamean of the
further flight of Dost Mahomed to the court of the Ameer of Bokhara,
where our own envoy Stoddart was then a close prisoner in imminent
danger of death. But as a set-off against so much that was good to hear
there came from Burnes the disquieting intelligence of the advance of
a large Russian force from Orenberg on Khiva, ostensibly to release
certain Russian merchants from captivity, and to punish the Khan,
not too severely, for general misconduct--a pretext which, it will
probably be remembered, was used with great effect on a subsequent
occasion. Macnaghten was inclined at first to make light of the news,
on which Burnes had, on the contrary, laid the greatest stress; but as
rumour grew he consented at last to despatch a mission to the Russian
camp. Conolly and Rawlinson were selected--Burnes, when the post was
offered to him, having only replied "that he would willingly go if he
was ordered"--when, on the eve of their departure, the welcome news
arrived that there was no longer a Russian camp for them to visit.
Snow, pestilence and famine had done the work that neither Tartar
sabres nor English diplomacy would have probably availed to do then,
any more than they have availed since, and of Peroffski's 6000 men
scarcely a man found his way back to Orenberg.
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 which Soojah 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, the Vizier, 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 had eyes 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 have murdered 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 immeasurably the 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 Afghan war. 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
again escaped 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 experience of 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 had rendered 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 country in 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-western frontier 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 they had
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,
and overwhelm 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 of posting 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 some of 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. As a 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 their wares 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.