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 the citadel 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. Our strength 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, whom he
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
arrangements should 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 an
indiscriminate 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 Ghilzyes should, 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, and the 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 guns with 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 good their 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 could do. 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 made before
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 to Major-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 not dare
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 have spread. 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 make certain 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.