BURNES
No traveller who ever returned to his country with tales of stirring
adventure ever attracted more interest, or even astonishment, than
Lieut. Alexander Burnes. He published his story in 1835, when the Oxus
regions of Asia were but vaguely outlined and shadowy geography. It
did not matter that they had been the scene of classical history for
more than 2000 years, and that the whole network of Oxus roads and
rivers had been written about and traversed by European hosts for
centuries before our era. That story belonged to a buried past, and
the British occupation of India had come about in modern history by
way of the sea. England and Russia were then searching forward into
Central Asia like two blind wrestlers in the dark, feeling their
ground before them ere they came to grips. A veil of mystery hung over
these highlands, a geographical fog that had thickened up, with just a
thinner space in it here and there, where a gleam of light had
penetrated, but never dispersed it, since the days when Assyrian and
Persian, Skyth, Greek, and Mongul wandered through the highest of
Asiatic highways at their own sweet will.
In the present year of grace and of red tape bindings to most books of
Asiatic travels, when the best of the geographical information
accumulated by the few who bear with them the seal of officialdom is
pigeon-holed for a use that never will be made of it, it is quite
refreshing to fall back on these most entertaining records of men who
(whether official or otherwise) all travelled under the same
conditions of association with the natives of the country they
traversed, accepting their hospitality, speaking their language,
assuming their manners and dress, and passing with the crowd (and with
the crowd only) as casual wayfarers. The fact of their European origin
was almost always suspected, if not known, to certain of the better
informed of their Asiatic hosts, but they were seldom given away. It
was nobody's business to quarrel with England then. A hundred years
ago the military credit of England stood high, and the irrepressible
advance of the red line of the British India-border impressed the mind
of the Asiatic of the highlands beyond the plains as evidence of an
irresistible power. Russia then made no such impression. She was still
far off, and the ties of commerce bound the Oxus Khanates to India,
even when Russian goods were in Asiatic markets. The bankers of the
country were Hindus--traders from the great commercial centre of
Shikarpur. It is strange to read of this constant contact with Hindus
in every part of Central Asia in those days, when the _hundi_ (or
bill) of a Shikarpur banker was as good as a letter of credit in any
bazaar as far as the Russian border. The power of England in India
undoubtedly loomed much larger in Asiatic eyes before the disasters of
the first Afghan war, and Englishmen of the type of Burnes, Christie,
Pottinger, Vigne, and Broadfoot were able to carry out prolonged
journeys through districts that are certainly not open to English
exploration now. Even were English officers to-day free under existing
political conditions to travel beyond the British border at all, it is
doubtful whether any disguise would serve as a protection.
The day has passed for such ventures as those of Burnes, and we must
turn back a page or two in geographical history if we wish to
appreciate the full value of British enterprise in exploring
Afghanistan. Undoubtedly Burnes ranks high as a geographer and
original pioneer. The fact that there is little or nothing left of the
scene of his travels in 1830-32 and 1833 which has not been reduced to
scientific mapping now, does not in any way detract from the merit of
his early work; although it must be confessed that the perils of
disguise prevented the use of any but the very crudest methods of
ascertaining position and distance, and his map results would, in
these days, be regarded as disappointing. Sind and the Punjab being
trans-border lands, there were always useful and handy opportunities
for teaching the enterprising subaltern of Bombay Infantry how to
travel intelligently; with the natural result that no corps in the
world possessed a more splendid record of geographical achievement
than the Bombay N.I.
Burnes began well in the Quartermaster-General's department, and was
soon entrusted with political power. Full early in his career he was
despatched with an enterprising sailor, Lieut. Wood, on a voyage up
the Indus which was to determine the commercial possibilities of its
navigation, and which did in fact lead to the formation of the Indus
flotilla--some fragments of which possibly exist still. It is most
interesting to read the able reports compiled by these young officers;
and one might speculate idly as to the feelings with which they would
now learn that within half a century their flotilla had come and gone,
superseded by one of the best paying of Indian railways. Their
feelings would probably be much the same as ours could we see fifty
years hence a well-established electric train service between Kabul
and Peshawar, and a double or treble line of rails linking up Russia
with India _via_ Herat. We shall not see it. It will be left to
another generation to write of its accomplishment.
Searching the archives of the Royal Geographical Society for the story
of Burnes the traveller (apart from the voluminous records of Burnes
the diplomat), I came across a book with this simple inscription on
the title-page: "To the Royal Geographical Society of London, with the
best wishes for its prosperity by the Author." This is Vol. I. of
Burnes' Travels. It is written in the attenuated, pointed, and
ladylike style which was the style of the very early Victorian era. It
hardly leads to an impression of forceful and enterprising character.
On January 2, 1831, Burnes made his first plunge into the wilderness
which lay between him and Lahore, the capital of the Sikh kingdom, and
he entered that city on the 17th. There he was most hospitably
received by the French officers in the service of Ranjit Singh,
Messieurs Allard and Court, and was welcomed by the Maharaja Ranjit
Singh, who treated him with "marked affability." Burnes was
accompanied by Dr. Gerard, and the two travellers were taken by Ranjit
Singh to a hunting party in the Punjab, a description of which serves
as a forcible illustration of the changes which less than one century
of British administration has effected in the plains of India. Never
will its like be seen again in the Land of the Five Rivers. The
guests' tents were made of Kashmir shawls, and were about 14 feet
square. One tent was red and the other white, and they were connected
by tent-walls of the same material, shaded by a _Shamiana_ supported
on silver-mounted poles. In each tent stood a camp-bed with Kashmir
shawl curtains. It was, as Burnes remarks, not an encampment suited to
the Punjab jungles; and the hunting procession headed by the
Maharaja, dressed in a tunic of green shawls, lined with fur, his
dagger studded with the richest brilliants, and a light metal shield,
the gift of the ex-king of Kabul (Shah Sujah, who, it will be
remembered, also surrendered the Koh-i-Nor diamond to Ranjit Singh
about this time), as the finishing touch to his equipment, must have
been quite melodramatic in its effects of colour and movement. It was,
as a matter of fact, a pig-sticking expedition, but the game fell to
the sword rather than to the spear; such of it, that is to say, as was
not caught in traps. The party was terminated by a hog-baiting
exhibition, in which dogs were used to worry the captive pigs, after
the latter were tied by one leg to a stake. When the pigs were
sufficiently infuriated, the entertainment concluded with letting them
loose through the camp, in order, as Ranjit said, "that men might
praise his humanity."
Such episodes, however they might beguile the journey to the Afghan
frontier, belong to other histories than that of Afghan exploration,
and little more need be said of Burnes' experiences before reaching
the Afghan city of Peshawar, than that he experienced very different
treatment _en route_ to that which made Moorcroft's journey both
perilous and disheartening. In Peshawar the two brothers of Dost
Mahomed Khan (Sultan Mahomed and Pir Mahomed) seem to have rivalled
each other in courtly attentions to their guests, and Burnes was as
much enchanted with this garden of the North-West as any traveller of
to-day would be, provided that his visit were suitably timed. Burnes
thus sums up his impression of Ranjit Singh: "I never quitted the
presence of a native of Asia with such impressions as I left this man;
without education, and without a guide, he conducts all the affairs of
his kingdom with surpassing energy and vigour, and yet he wields his
power with a moderation quite unprecedented in an Eastern prince."
On leaving Lahore Burnes received this salutary advice from M. Court,
packed in a French proverb, "Si tu veux vivre en paix en voyageant,
fais en sorte de hurler comme les loups avec qui tu te trouves." And
he set himself to conform to this text (and to the excellent sermon
which accompanied it) with a determination which undoubtedly served as
the foundation of his remarkable success as a traveller. It cannot be
too often insisted that the experiences of intelligent and cultivated
Europeans in the days of close association with the Asiatic led to an
appreciation of native character and to an intimacy with native
methods, which is only to be found in India now amongst missionaries
and police officers, if it is to be found at all. But even with all
the advantages possessed by such experiences as those of Burnes and of
the intrepid school of Asiatic travellers of his time, it required an
intuitive discernment almost amounting to genius to detect the motive
springs of Eastern political action.
It may be doubted (as Masson doubted) whether to the day of his death
Burnes himself quite understood either the Afghan or the Sikh. But he
vigorously conformed to native usages in all outward show: "We threw
away all our European clothes and adopted without reserve the costume
of the Asiatic. We gave away our tents, beds, and boxes, and broke our
tables and chairs--a blanket serves to cover the saddle and to sleep
under.... The greater portion of my now limited wardrobe found a place
in the 'kurjin.' A single mule carried the whole of the baggage."
Armed with letters of introduction from a holy man (Fazl Haq), who
boasted a horde of disciples in Bokhara, and with all the graceful
good wishes which an Afghan potentate knows how to bestow, Burnes left
Peshawar and the two Afghan sirdars, and started for Kabul. It is
instructive to note that he avoided the Khaibar route, which had an
evil reputation.
It would be interesting to trace Burnes' route from Peshawar to
Bokhara, _via_ Kabul and Bamian, were it not that we are dealing with
ground already sufficiently well discussed in these pages. Moreover,
Burnes travelled to Kabul in company which permitted him to make
little or no use of his opportunities for original geographical
research. After he left Kabul the vicissitudes and difficulties that
beset him were only such as might be experienced by any recognised
official political mission, and he experienced none of the vexatious
opposition and delay which was so fatal to Moorcroft. _En route_ he
passed through Bamian, Haibak, Khulm, and Balkh; he visited Kunduz,
and identified the tomb of Trebeck at Mazar; and by the light of a
brilliant moon he stood by the grave of Moorcroft, which he found
under a wall outside the city, apart from the Mussulman cemeteries.
The three days passed at Balkh were assiduously employed in local
investigation and the collection of coins and relics. He found coins,
or tokens, dating from early Persian occupation to the Mogul
dynasties, and he notes the size of the bricks and their shape, which
he describes as oblong approaching to square; but he mentions no
inscriptions.
At this time Balkh was in the hands of the Bokhara chief, and Burnes
was already in Bokhara territory. The journey across the plains to the
Oxus was made on camels, Burnes being seated in a kajawa, and
balancing his servant on the other side. It was slow, but it gave him
the opportunity of overlooking the broad Oxus plain and noting the
general accuracy of the description given of it by Quintus Curtius. As
they approached the Oxus it was found necessary to employ a Turkman
guard. Burnes does not say from what Turkman tribe his guard was
taken, but from his description of them, their dress, equipment, and
steeds, they were clearly men of the same Ersari tribe that was found
fifty years later in the same neighbourhood by the Russo-Afghan
Boundary Commission. "They rode good horses and were armed with a
sword and long spear. They were not encumbered with shields and
powder-horns like other Asiatics, and only a few had matchlocks....
They never use more than a single rein, which sets off their horses to
advantage."
On the banks of the river they halted near the small village of Khwaja
Salar. This was the same place evidently that Moorcroft visited, and
which he described as destroyed in a raid; and it was here that Burnes
made use of the peculiar horse-drawn ferry which has already been
described. Fifty years later the ferry was at Kilif, and nothing was
to be found of the "village" of Khwaja Salar. Burnes' astonishment at
the quaint, but most efficient, method of utilizing the power of
swimming horses to haul the great ferry-boats has been shared by every
one who has seen them since; but he noted a fact which has not been
observed by other travellers, viz. that _any_ horse was taken for the
purpose, no matter whether trained or not; and he states that the
horses were yoked to the boat by a rope fixed to the hair of the mane.
If so, this method was improved on during the next half-century, for
the rope is now attached to a surcingle. "One of the boats was dragged
over by two of our jaded ponies; and the vessel which attempted to
follow us without them was carried so far down the stream as to detain
us a whole day on the banks till it could be brought up to the camp
of our caravan." The river at this point is about 800 yards wide, and
runs at the rate of three to four miles an hour. The crossing was
effected in fifteen minutes. Burnes adds: "I see nothing to prevent
the general adoption of this expeditious mode of crossing a river....
I had never before seen the horse converted to such a use; and in my
travels through India I had always considered that noble animal as a
great encumbrance in crossing a river." And yet after two centuries of
military training in the plains of India, we English have not yet
arrived at this economical use of this great motive power always at
our command in a campaign!
After passing the Oxus the chief interest of Burnes' story commences.
His life at Bokhara and his subsequent journey through the Turkman
deserts to Persia form a record which, combined with his own physical
capability, his energy, and his unfailing tact, good humour, and
modesty, stamp him as one of the greatest of English travellers. His
name has its own high place in geographical annals. We shall never
cease to admire the traveller, whatever we may think of the diplomat.
But once over the Oxus his story hardly concerns the gates of India.
He was beyond them, he had passed through, and was now on the far
landward side, still on a road to India; but it is a road over which
it no longer concerns us to follow him.