A SERIES OF BLUNDERS
Numerous as had been the blunders, and great the mismanagement up to
the 2nd of November, matters might yet have been retrieved had the
conduct of affairs been in resolute and energetic hands. Macnaghten was
personally a brave and fearless man. Had he at last felt the necessity
for strong measures, an attack upon the city would certainly have been
attended with success. Now that the first burst of hate and passion had
passed, the inhabitants were filled with apprehension at the punishment
that would fall upon them, and none doubted that the British army would
at once attack the town. The army itself expected this, and, furious at
the treacherous massacre of Sir Alexander Burnes and his comrades, were
burning for the order to attack.
The troops were under arms early, but no orders were issued for
a forward movement. Some hours later the 35th regiment of Native
Infantry, with two mountain guns, came in from Khoord Cabul, having
brushed aside the opposition it had met with on its march. With this
valuable addition to the fighting strength in the camp all opposition
could have been easily overcome, and yet until three o'clock in the
afternoon nothing whatever was done. By this time what could have
been effected with comparative ease in the early morning had become
a far more difficult operation. Vast numbers of the tribesmen had
been pouring into the city since daybreak, and the two miles of plain
between the camp and the city, which earlier in the day could have
been traversed without a shot being fired, were now covered by a host
of fierce enemies; and yet, after wasting so many valuable hours, the
general, instead of throwing the whole of the force in the cantonments,
and that of Brigadier Shelton at the Bala Hissar, against the city,
sent only three companies of infantry and two guns to the attack.
Naturally this handful of men failed; and it was well for them that
they did not penetrate into the city, for had they done so they would
assuredly have been overwhelmed before they had gone fifty yards.
However, the officer in command, seeing the impossibility of the task
set him, withdrew his detachment in good order. The result of the day's
operation, if it could be so called, was disastrous, the troops, who
had until then been eager to be led against the enemy, and confident
of success, were irritated and dispirited, and lost all confidence in
their commander; while, on the other hand, the Afghans were jubilant
over what they considered the cowardice of the enemy. The next day the
misfortune invited by the passive attitude of our troops happened. Only
eighty men were in charge of the commissariat fort. The little party
were commanded by Lieutenant Warren. Early in the day a threatening
force of the enemy approached, and Warren sent a messenger urgently
asking for reinforcements.
But the Afghans had already occupied an old fort that commanded the
road between the camp and the commissariat fort. Considering the
enormous importance of the stores, an overwhelming force should have
been sent out to drive off the assailants, and to occupy the fort in
such strength that it could be held against any assault. Instead of
doing this, two companies only of the 44th Regiment were sent. The
two captains in command were killed by the fire from the Afghan fort,
other officers were wounded, and the men fell so fast that the officer
who was senior in command, seeing the impossibility of reaching the
store, drew them off. Then an order was issued--which was practically
the death-warrant of the army--by General Elphinstone, for a party
of cavalry to go out and bring in the little garrison. This party
suffered even more severely than the preceding one. From every wall,
building, and orchard a storm of musketry broke out, and the troopers,
after suffering great loss, again retired. The news that the general
intended to abandon the store struck dismay into the officers of
the commissariat. Captain Boyd hurried to head-quarters, and urged
the general to send a force that would sweep away all opposition,
and to hold the fort at all hazards. The general promised to send a
reinforcement, but no relief was sent.
As night was coming on, Captain Boyd and Captain Johnson again went
to the general and pointed out in the strongest language the result
that would follow the abandonment of the stores. The unhappy old man
hesitated, but on a letter being brought in from Lieutenant Warren
saying that the enemy were mining the walls, and some of the Sepoys,
seeing their position was desperate, were deserting, he promised that a
strong detachment should be sent at two o'clock in the morning to storm
the Afghan fort and relieve the guard at the commissariat stores.
Orders were accordingly issued, but these were presently countermanded,
and it was decided that the force should not move until daylight.
By that time it was too late. Warren had repulsed an attack on the
walls, but seeing that the enemy were preparing to fire the gate and
renew the attack, he retired through a passage that had on the previous
day been dug under the wall, and reached the camp in safety. But this
was not the only disaster that happened that day. Captain Johnson's
store of provisions for the use of the Ameer's troops, on the outskirts
of the city, was also attacked. Captain Mackenzie, who was in command
of the little garrison there, defended his post throughout the day
with the greatest gallantry; but water was scarce, and ammunition
failing, and large numbers of women and children were in the fort,
with great quantities of baggage. Urgent letters were sent asking
for reinforcements, but no reinforcements came. Had they arrived the
situation would have been saved. The Kuzzilbashes were ready to side
with the British. Several of their commanders were with Mackenzie, but
when they saw that no help was sent, they refused to join a cause that
seemed to them lost. All night the fighting went on, and all next day,
until his men were utterly worn out, and the ammunition exhausted. No
more could be done, and when night came on, he moved out of the fort
and fought his way to the cantonments--a brilliant action, which showed
what could be accomplished by a mere handful of men well led.
While Mackenzie was thus fighting for the stores under his charge,
the troops in the cantonments were condemned to see crowds of Afghans
looting the stores within four hundred yards of our camp, carrying off
the supplies that had been garnered for their subsistence through the
winter, and this without a man being set in motion or a gun brought to
bear upon the plunderers.
Furious at the imbecility of their leaders, the soldiers clamoured to
be led against the enemy. Unable to resist the demand, the general
ordered the 37th Native Infantry to move out; but instead of being
led straight against the enemy, the officer in command hesitated and
halted, and soon fell back with the indignant Sepoys.
General Elphinstone was already talking of making terms with the enemy,
and seemed to despair of victory when no attempt had been made to
gain a success. On the 6th, however, a party of the 37th were again
sent out under Major Griffiths. Again it was seen what could be done
by an energetic officer. The Afghan fort was stormed, the enemy were
driven out, and were routed by a party of horse, who dashed at them
gallantly. The troops could be no longer restrained, and cavalry,
infantry, and artillery poured out; but there was no general plan, and
the consequence was, that although desultory fighting went on all day,
nothing was accomplished. Had any general plan of operation been laid
down, and a combined action fought, the enemy would have been utterly
unable to withstand our troops, worked up to fury as these were by the
disgraceful inaction that had been forced upon them. In the meantime,
starvation would have already stared the troops in the face had not
Captains Boyd and Johnson, aided by Angus and other officers of their
department, gone out to the native villages and succeeded in purchasing
a certain amount of grain. But already the troops were on half rations,
and even these scanty supplies could not long be available.
The general, while his troops were out fighting, wrote to Macnaghten,
urging that negotiations should be opened with the enemy, and saying,
"Our case is not yet desperate, but it is becoming so very fast."
Macnaghten himself was conscious of this, conscious that, under such
leading, the situation was fast becoming desperate, and he employed
the moonshee, Mohun Lal, who was still in Cabul under the protection of
the Kuzzilbash chief, to endeavour to bribe the chiefs of the Ghilzyes.
Two lacs of rupees were offered. The chiefs gave a favourable reply,
and then Macnaghten, with his usual instability, was seized with a
suspicion that they were not sincere, and abruptly broke off the
negotiations, thereby mortally offending the Ghilzye chiefs.
Fresh danger was threatening in another direction. Mahomed Akbar Khan,
the second son of Dost Mahomed, was on his way with a force from the
north, and had already advanced as far as Bamian. Mohun Lal suggested
that an emissary should be sent to offer him a large allowance if he
would join the British. His suggestion was carried out, and money was
spent in other quarters lavishly.
But it was now too late. A quarter of the sum would, a fortnight
earlier, have sufficed to satisfy the demands of all the chiefs of
the tribesmen. Now that success had encouraged the assailants of our
force, and the whole population had taken up arms against us, inspired
alike by fanaticism and hatred and thirsting for blood, it was doubtful
whether even the chiefs could restrain them had they chosen to do so.
In their letters and journals the officers still spoke with kindness
and respect of their unfortunate general. He had been a brave and able
soldier, but age and terrible infirmities had rendered him altogether
incapacitated for action. He had for months been suffering from gout,
and had almost lost the use of his limbs. Only once or twice, after his
arrival to assume the command, had he been able to sit on horseback;
for the most part he was wholly unable to walk. Sometimes he was
confined altogether to his couch; at others he was able to be taken out
in a palanquin. His mind was also enfeebled by suffering. On the very
day of the first outbreak he had been a little better, and had mounted
his horse; but he had suffered a very severe fall, and was carried back
to his quarters.
It was altogether inexcusable that Lord Auckland, against the advice
of the commander-in-chief and the remonstrances of his other military
advisers, should have appointed such a man to a command which, beyond
all others in India, demanded the greatest amount of energy and
activity. There were many men who might have been worthily selected,
men with a knowledge of the political conditions of Afghanistan, of the
feelings of the people, of their language and of their country.
General Elphinstone knew nothing of these things, and depended
entirely upon the advice of others. Had he relied solely upon that of
Macnaghten, things might have gone differently, but he asked advice
from all around him, and took the last that was offered, only to change
his mind again when he heard the opinion of a fresh counsellor. He
was himself conscious that the position was too onerous for him, and
sent down a medical certificate of his incapacity for action, and
requested to be relieved. The request had been granted, and he was to
have returned to India with Macnaghten, but unhappily no other officer
had been appointed to succeed him. It is upon Lord Auckland, rather
than upon the unfortunate officer, who, in the teeth of the advice of
his counsellors and of all common sense, was thrust into a position
for which he was wholly unsuited, that the blame of the catastrophe of
Cabul should be laid.
Macnaghten, in hopes that Brigadier Shelton, a brave officer, but
hot-tempered and obstinate, would be able to influence the general
and to put an end to the deplorable indecision that paralysed the
army, persuaded Elphinstone to send for him to come in from the Bala
Hissar to the camp and bring in with him a regiment of the Ameer's
troops. He came into the cantonment of the 9th, and his arrival was
hailed with the greatest satisfaction, as it was believed that at last
something would be done. Unfortunately, however, Shelton's energy and
the general's weakness were as oil on water. No two men were less
calculated to pull together. Shelton enforced his arguments with a
vehemence that seemed to the general insubordinate in the extreme;
while the brigadier, on the other hand, was unable to make allowance
for the physical and mental weakness of the general, and was maddened
by the manner in which orders that had but an hour before been issued
were countermanded.
On the morning of the 10th the enemy mustered in great force, and
occupying a small fort within musket-shot of the defences, opened a
galling fire. Macnaghten only obtained the general's consent to a party
going out to capture the fort by telling him that unless he gave the
order he should himself take the responsibility of doing so, for that
at any risk the fort must be captured. Thereupon Shelton was instructed
to take two thousand men and attack it. When they were on the point of
starting Elphinstone countermanded the orders. Shelton, in a fury, laid
the case before the envoy, who was as eager as himself, and the general
was again persuaded to give the order and the force advanced.
It was intended to blow open the gate with powder, but by some accident
only a wicket by the side of the main entrance was blown in. Led by
Colonel Mackrell the storming party, consisting of two companies of
Europeans and four of native infantry, advanced. They could with
difficulty make their way through the narrow entrance, for they were
exposed as they did so to a heavy musketry fire, but two officers and
a few soldiers pushed through, and the garrison, believing that the
whole column was following them, fled through the opposite gate. But
unhappily they were not followed. A body of Afghan cavalry threatened
to attack the storming party outside, and these, native and British
alike, were seized with an unaccountable panic and fled. In vain
their officers endeavoured to arrest their flight. The events of the
previous week had terribly demoralized them. Shelton set them a noble
example by remaining on horseback alone, and at last shamed them into
returning. Again the Afghan horse approached, and again they fled.
Again Shelton's expostulations and example brought them back. The guns
in the cantonments drove the Afghans off, and Shelton led his men up to
the capture of the fort.
In the meantime the handful of men who had entered the fort had been
engaged in a desperate struggle for life. The Afghans, discovering
how small was the number of their assailants, re-entered the fort and
fell upon them in overwhelming numbers. When Shelton's force entered,
Colonel Mackrell had fallen mortally wounded, and was carried into
the cantonments to die. Lieutenant Bird, with two Sepoys, were the
sole survivors. They had, when the enemy poured in, taken possession
of a stable and barricaded themselves there, and had successfully
repulsed every attack. When they were rescued their ammunition was
almost exhausted, but they were uninjured, and no fewer than thirty
dead Afghans lying in front of the stable bore mute testimony to the
steadiness and accuracy of their aim.
Several small forts were abandoned by the enemy, and a quantity of
grain was found in them, but as no measures were taken to convey it
into the camp, it was lost again when the troops retired. Desultory
fighting went on all the afternoon without any decisive results, and
the next two or three days passed quietly.
In the meantime the moonshee was making every effort to bring over some
of the chiefs to our side. Macnaghten was sending off letter after
letter to the political officer with Sale, urging the necessity for
an instant advance of the force at Jellalabad. On the 13th the enemy
occupied a hill within range of the cantonment, and planting two guns
there opened a steady fire. Macnaghten spent hours in endeavouring
to persuade the general and brigadier of the absolute necessity for
driving the enemy off the hill, but without success, and it was not
until he took the responsibility upon himself that a detachment under
Shelton was ordered to be sent. It was then four o'clock in the
afternoon. The troops advanced in three columns, and the infantry
rushed forward with such impetuosity that the two guns with them could
not arrive in time to herald their attack. The detachment poured in
a volley within ten yards' distance, but they were unsteady from
their exertions in mounting the hill, and their fire took no effect.
A minute later the Afghan cavalry charged down upon them. The attack
was unexpected, the men in confusion, and the Afghans rode through and
through the ranks. The British troops retreated down the slope, where
they re-formed behind the reserve; the guns opened fire with great
effect, and the infantry again marched up the hill.
Our cavalry now came into action and drove the enemy before them. The
infantry carried the height, and the enemy fled, abandoning their guns.
It was now getting dark. A party of the Ameer's infantry removed one
of the guns; but the Afghan marksmen were keeping up a heavy musketry
fire, and the troops, British as well as Sepoys, were so demoralized
that they refused to advance and carry off the other. It was therefore
spiked and rolled down the hill, while the smaller gun was brought
by the Ameer's troops into the cantonment. The enemy, now strongly
reinforced, attempted to intercept the retreat, but were beaten off.
On the 15th Major Pottinger and another officer came in wounded, and
reported that the Ghoorka regiment that had been retiring from Kohistan
had been entirely destroyed. They defended themselves courageously
against overwhelming forces, and held the barracks they occupied until
maddened by thirst; then they rushed to a stream, where the enemy
fell upon them and cut them to pieces, the two mounted officers alone
escaping after innumerable dangers. On the 17th Macnaghten heard that
there was no hope whatever of assistance from Sale, who was himself
surrounded with difficulties. He now urged that the force should all
retire to the Bala Hissar, behind whose strong walls they could have
maintained themselves. But Shelton vehemently opposed the step, which
would have saved the army from destruction, urging that the abandonment
of the cantonments would be an acknowledgment of defeat.
On the 23rd of November the enemy again appeared on the hill from
which they had been driven, and a strong force moved out against it.
Strangely enough, however, they only took one gun with them. The day
was disgraceful as well as disastrous, for the British force was
signally defeated and the gun was lost, and the troops re-entered the
cantonment in headlong flight, hotly pursued by the Afghans till they
reached the protection of the earthworks. Their conduct showed how
completely the imbecility and vacillation of their commanders, and the
effect of the insufficient rations on which they had to subsist, had
destroyed the moral of the troops. The men who a month before could
have driven the Afghans before them like sheep, were now unable to cope
with them even when in superior numbers.
On the 24th Elphinstone addressed a letter to Macnaghten stating
his opinion that their position could no longer be maintained, and
that he should at once enter into negotiations with the enemy. He
accordingly sent a message to the insurgent chiefs inviting them to
send in a deputation to discuss the conditions of the treaty. Two of
their leaders came in, but as they demanded that the British should
surrender at discretion, giving themselves up, with all their arms,
ammunition, and treasure, as prisoners of war, Macnaghten resolutely
rejected the offered terms.
Angus had been constantly employed from the day he reached the
cantonments. His work was to go out with small parties of the natives
employed by the commissariat to bring in the grain that Boyd and
Johnson had purchased. There was no slight risk in the work, for
although the villagers were glad to sell their corn on good terms,
the party who fetched it ran the risk of being cut off by any band of
tribesmen they might encounter.
Of an evening he talked over the situation and prospects with the two
officers. Absorbed in work as they all were, they were less influenced
by the feeling of hopelessness than those who had nothing to do but to
rage over the trap into which they had fallen through the incapacity of
their leaders. Still, they did not attempt to disguise from themselves
the magnitude of the danger.
"I have no faith in any treaty that could be made," Boyd said. "An
Afghan is only bound by his word as long as it pays him to keep it.
They will take Macnaghten's money, and will promise that we shall be
allowed to go down the passes without molestation; but I am mistaken
indeed if we shall not be attacked the moment we enter them. If they
do so, few of us will ever get through. The men are weak now from
want of sufficient food. They are utterly dispirited and demoralized,
as is shown by their shameful flight yesterday. Besides, they will
be encumbered with a host of camp followers, women, and children. I
am still of opinion that our only hope is to take refuge in the Bala
Hissar, and Shelton's vehement opposition has already put a stop to
that. For myself, I would rather that they attacked us here, even if
the attack meant our annihilation. It would be better to die so than
cooped up hopelessly in the passes. At best the march would be a
terrible one. The cold is severe already, and we hear that the snow is
deep in the passes; not so deep as to render them impracticable, but
deep enough to render the passage a terrible one."
"Of course we are bound to stay with the rest and do our best to the
end. Were it not for that, we three might escape. We all speak the
language well enough to pass as natives. You, indeed, have already done
so. However, of course that is not to be thought of; indeed, it would
probably amount to the same thing in the end, for we could scarcely
hope to reach either Jellalabad or Candahar."
"No, it is not to be thought of, Johnson," his companion said. "We have
to do our duty to the last. I still hope that the general may yet have
an hour of inspiration and deliver battle in good order. I believe that
the troops would fight well if they did but see that they were properly
handled."
On the following day they learned that Akbar Khan had arrived. He was
greeted with great enthusiasm and much firing of guns. Macnaghten had
a faint hope that he would side with us, as his father, mother, and
brothers were in our hands in India; but, on the other hand, he had
every reason for bitter animosity against the British, who had, without
any ground for complaint, invaded the country and dethroned his father.
The prince bore the reputation of being frank, generous, and far
brighter and more cheerful than the majority of his countrymen; at the
same time he was passionate and impulsive, given to sudden bursts of
anger. The wrongs that he and his family had suffered were, indeed, at
present predominant in his mind. For two years he himself had been an
exile from his country. His father, who had tried so hard to gain the
friendship of the British, had been dethroned by them; and as it was
notorious that their captives were always honourably treated, he felt
that no action upon his part would recoil upon their heads.
He himself was now the heir to the throne if he could win it. He was
extremely popular among the people, who hailed his advent as giving
them a leader whom they could rely upon, under whom the chiefs of the
tribesmen could lay aside their mutual jealousy and animosity and join
in the effort to drive the foe for ever from their country. He did
not, however, at once assume the chief authority. The Nawab Mahomed
Zemaun Khan, a cousin of Dost Mahomed, had been proclaimed Ameer by the
tribesmen, and all orders were sent forth in his name. He was a man of
humane and honourable nature, of polished manners, and affable address.
As soon as he learned the state of affairs, Akbar Khan took immediate
steps to prevent further supplies being taken into camp. He burned the
villages where grain had been sold, and placed bands of men to attack
any parties coming out from the camp to purchase grain. Day after day
passed, messengers came and went between Macnaghten and the Nawab, but
nothing was done; the food supply dwindled; only three days' rations
remained in camp.
The supplies doled out were scarcely sufficient to keep life together.
The oxen and other baggage animals were in such a state of starvation
as to be wholly unfit for service. The store of fuel had long been used
up, some men died of cold, and all suffered much. Macnaghten was still
hopeful, and early in December again urged a retirement, but in vain.
The enemy had now guns planted in several positions, and kept up an
almost constant cannonade on the camp. On the 8th there were but three
days' half rations left, and the general informed Macnaghten by letter
that it was absolutely necessary to surrender upon the best terms
that could be obtained; and the three senior officers also signed the
letter, saying that they concurred in it. On the 11th there was but one
day's food left for the fighting men, the camp followers were starving.
Again and again Macnaghten urged that a force should sally out and at
all costs bring in provisions, but the general knew that the men could
not be relied upon to fight. The time had come when even Macnaghten saw
that all hope had gone save in surrender. He drew out the rough draft
of a treaty, and met the leading chiefs of the Afghans at about a mile
from the river.
By this treaty the British were to evacuate Afghanistan. They were
to be supplied with provisions for the journey, Shah Soojah was to
abdicate, and to have the option of accompanying them; but if he did
so, his wife and family were to remain as hostages until Dost Mahomed
and his family were released. The troops at Jellalabad were also to
retire, as well as those at Ghuznee and Candahar. Four British officers
were to be left as hostages, to return to India on the arrival of Dost
Mahomed and his family on the frontier. The conference lasted two
hours, and its main stipulations were agreed to. The meeting then broke
up, on the understanding that the British troops were to evacuate the
cantonments in three days, and that provisions should in the meantime
be sent in. The treaty was a humiliating one, but Macnaghten was not
to blame for it. When the three military chiefs had declared that
there was nothing for it but surrender, he was forced to make the best
arrangement he could, and the terms of the treaty were as good as could
have been expected in the circumstances.
When the conference broke up Captain Trevor, one of Macnaghten's staff,
accompanied the chief to the city as a hostage for the sincerity of
the envoy. On the 11th the Bala Hissar was evacuated. Akbar Khan
pledged himself to conduct the garrison safely to the cantonments,
and kept his promise, succeeding in inducing the crowds of horsemen
who gathered round to let the little detachment pass. The provisions,
however, were not sent in as agreed, and the chiefs refused to send
them until the garrisons were withdrawn from the forts they occupied
round the cantonments. The parties were each suspicious of the other's
good faith. On the 18th snow began to fall heavily. Macnaghten tried
desperately to win over some of the chiefs, lavishing money among
them. The Afghans made fresh demands, and demanded more hostages, and
Lieutenants Conolly and Airey were handed over to them.
On the 22nd Akbar Khan sent in fresh proposals, to the effect that
the British were to remain in Afghanistan till the spring, and then
to withdraw as if of their own free-will. Shah Soojah was to remain
as Ameer, and Akbar as his minister. As a reward for these services
Akbar was to receive an annuity of £40,000 and a bonus of £300,000.
Macnaghten accepted the terms, and agreed to meet Akbar. The offer was
so strange that Elphinstone and others thought that it was probably a
plot. Macnaghten replied that he did not think that it was so, but in
any case he would go. After breakfast he sent for the officers of his
staff, Lawrence, Mackenzie, and Trevor, who had returned, and begged
them to accompany him to the meeting. An hour later they set out with a
few horsemen. As they rode on Macnaghten admitted to his officers that
he was well aware that it was a dangerous enterprise, but that he was
playing for a heavy stake and the prize was worth the risk. "At all
events," he said, "a thousand deaths are preferable to the life I have
of late been leading."
The parties met at some hillocks six hundred yards from the
cantonments, where some horse-cloths had been spread upon the snow by
Akbar Khan's servants. Macnaghten presented to Akbar a splendid horse
he had admired. They dismounted, and Macnaghten took his place on the
blankets. Trevor, Mackenzie, and Lawrence sat behind him. Suddenly the
envoy and his companions were violently seized from behind. The three
officers were dragged away, and each compelled to mount horses ridden
by Afghan chiefs, who rode off through the crowd. Trevor unfortunately
slipped from his insecure seat, and was instantly cut to pieces, while
the other two reached Mahomed Khan's fort alive. In the meantime the
envoy himself was struggling desperately on the ground with Akbar Khan.
Exasperated by the resistance of his victim, whom he had only intended
to seize, the Afghan's passion blazed out, and drawing from his girdle
a pistol, which Macnaghten had given him the day before, he shot him
through the body. Instantly his followers closed round and hacked him
to pieces.
Thus died a gentleman who, in other circumstances, might have made
a great reputation for himself. Possessed of unusual talent, his
course was marred by his propensity to believe all that he wished, to
disbelieve all that ran counter to his own sanguine projects. During
the last month of his life he did all that man could do to avert a
catastrophe, but he had been unable to instil his spirit into any of
the military commanders, or to induce them to take the only course to
redeem the position, by giving battle to the foe that surrounded them.
He was the author of the ill-fated expedition to Afghanistan, he was
its noblest victim. His peculiar temperament was fatal to him. Even
when there was no longer any ground for hope he still continued to be
sanguine. He had all along believed in himself, and scoffed at the
warnings of men who knew the country and people--of Burnes, Rawlinson,
Pottinger, and others.
He was thoroughly sincere; he was always able to convince himself
that what he believed must be true, and he acted accordingly. He was
not a strong man; had he been so the course of events might have been
altered. He deferred in every way to Shah Soojah's wishes, however much
these might be opposed to his own judgment. He allowed him to misgovern
the country, to drive the natives to desperation by the exactions
of his tax-gatherers, and to excite the bitterest animosity of the
chiefs by the arrogance with which he treated them. A strong man would
have put a stop to all this--would have intimated to the Ameer that
he held the throne solely by the assistance of British bayonets, and
that unless he followed British counsels he would at once yield to the
oft-repeated wishes of the Indian government and order the retirement
of the troops.