to the jealousy, and consequent disunion, of his generals, it would
be an injustice to the garrison of Herat not to acknowledge that they
owed their safety, in some measure, to their own exertions. Their
gallantry and perseverance, however, were not of the most sustained
character, and might have yielded to the assaults of the Persians if
there had been any union among the assailants. They gathered courage
from the languid movements of the besiegers; and, surprised at the
little progress made by the once dreaded army of Mahomed Shah, they
came in time to regard themselves as heroes, and their successful
sorties as great victories. When, on the other hand, the Persians
really attempted anything like a combined movement against their works,
the garrison began to lose heart, and were with difficulty brought
to repulse them. To what extent they were indebted to the unfailing
constancy and courage of Eldred Pottinger, has been set forth, but
I believe very imperfectly, in this narrative of the siege. Enough,
however, has been shown to demonstrate that, but for the heroism of
this young Bombay artilleryman, Herat would have fallen into the hands
of Mahomed Shah. The garrison were fast breaking down, not so much
under the pressure from without as the pressure from within. The chiefs
were desponding—the people were starving. But still the continued cry
of Eldred Pottinger was, “A little longer—a little longer yet.” When
the chiefs talked of surrender—when they set forth the hopelessness of
further efforts of defence—he counselled still a little further delay.
His voice was ever for the manlier course; and what he recommended in
speech he was ever eager to demonstrate in action. Yar Mahomed did
great things at Herat. It would be unjust to deny him the praise due
to his energetic exertions in the prosecution of the defence, however
unscrupulous the means he employed to sustain it. But his energies
failed him at last; and it was only by the powerful stimulants applied
by his young European associate that he was supported and invigorated
in the great crisis, when the fate of Herat was trembling in the
balance. There was one true soldier in Herat, whose energies never
failed him; and History delights to record the fact that that one true
soldier, young and inexperienced as he was, with no knowledge of active
warfare that he had not derived from books, rescued Herat from the
grasp of the Persian monarch, and baffled the intrigues of his great
northern abettor.[202]
About these intrigues something more should be said. No sane man ever
questions the assertion that Russian diplomatists encouraged Mahomed
Shah to undertake the expedition against Herat, and that Russian
officers aided the operations of the siege. No reasonable man doubts
that, so encouraging and so aiding Persia in aggressive measures
against the frontier of Afghanistan, Russia harboured ulterior designs
not wholly unassociated with thoughts of the position of the British
in Hindostan. At all events, it is certain that the first word, spoken
or written in encouragement of the expedition against Herat, placed
Russia in direct antagonism with Great Britain. “The British minister
at Teheran was instructed to dissuade the Shah from such an enterprise;
urging reasons of indisputable force, and founded upon the interests of
the Shah himself. But the advice given by the Russian ambassador was
all of an opposite tendency. For while Mr. M’Neill was appealing to
the prudence and the reason of the Shah, Count Simonich was exciting
the ambition and inflaming the passions of that Sovereign; whilst
the one was preaching moderation and peace, the other was inciting
to war and conquest; and whilst the one pointed out the difficulties
and expense of the enterprise, the other inspired hopes of money and
assistance.”[203]
Such, very plainly stated, in grave, official language, had been the
relative positions of Russia and Great Britain. But when Lord Durham,
in 1837, was directed to seek from the Russian minister an explanation
of conduct so much at variance with the declarations of the Muscovite
Government, the answer was, that if Count Simonich had encouraged
Mahomed Shah to proceed against Herat, he acted in direct violation of
his instructions.
But for a man disobeying the instructions of an arbitrary government,
Simonich acted with uncommon boldness. He advanced to the Persian
ruler 50,000 tomauns, and promised, that if Mahomed Shah took Herat,
the balance of the debt due by Persia to Russia should be remitted.
Thus encouraged, Mahomed Shah advanced upon Herat. How Simonich
followed M’Neill to the Persian camp, and how he thwarted the efforts
of the British diplomatist to bring about an accommodation of the
differences between the two contending states, and how Russian officers
subsequently directed the siege, has been already shown. It has been
shown, how a Russian agent guaranteed a treaty injurious to British
interests, between Mahomed Shah and the Sirdars of Candahar. It has
been shown, too, how a Russian agent appeared at Caubul, and how he
endeavoured to detach Dost Mahomed from an alliance with the British,
and to encourage him to look for support from the Persian King and his
Muscovite supporters.
Considering these things, the British Government asked whether the
intentions of Russia towards Persia and Afghanistan were to be judged
from Count Nesselrode’s declarations, or from the actions of Simonich
and Vickovich. The answer was, that Vickovich had been despatched
to Caubul on a “Commercial Mission,” and that, if he had treated of
anything but commerce, he had exceeded his instructions; and that
Simonich had been instructed, not only to discourage Mahomed Shah
from prosecuting the expedition against Herat, but to withdraw the
Russian-deserter regiment, which formed no insignificant portion of
the invading army. “Not upon the cabinet of Russia,” it was said,
“can fall the reproach of having encouraged or suggested that fatal
enterprise.”[204] The proceedings of the agents were repudiated.
Vickovich, being a person of no account, was remorselessly sacrificed,
and he blew out his brains. But an apology was found for Count
Simonich. It was said that he only assisted a friendly state when in
extreme difficulty, and that any English officer would have done the
same.[205]
There was some truth in this. At all events, when it was added by the
Russian minister that his government had more reason to be alarmed by
the movements of Great Britain, than Great Britain by the movements of
Russia; and that England sought to monopolise the privilege of intrigue
in Central Asia, it was difficult for any candid and unprejudiced
observer of events to comment harshly upon the injustice of the
imputation. When, too, some time afterwards, Baron Brunow said to Sir
John Hobhouse, “If we go on at this rate, the Cossack and the Sepoy
will soon meet on the banks of the Oxus,”[206] it would have been hard
to have laid the contemplated collision wholly to the account of the
restlessness of the Czar. True it is, that the policy of Russia in the
East had been distinguished for its aggressive tendencies;[207] and
it is equally true, that in the plenitude of our national self-love,
we encouraged the conviction that Great Britain had conquered the
entire continent of Hindostan by a series of purely defensive measures.
Looking merely at the recognised policy of the East India Company, the
distinction may be admitted. For a century have this great body been
steadfastly setting their face against the extension of their empire;
but their empire has been extended in spite of them, and their agents
have been less pacific than themselves. The general tendency of the
Eastern policy worked out by the English in India, has not been purely
defensive, and they are, perhaps, the last people in the world entitled
to complain of the encroachments of their allies. England and Russia
seemed at one time to be—and, perhaps, they are still—approaching each
other on the vast Central-Asia battle-field; but when the account
between the two great European states comes to be struck, it is
doubtful whether History will set down against the Muscovite power any
greater transgression than that which it is the object of these volumes
to record.[208]
CHAPTER III.
[1837-1838.]
Policy of the British-Indian Government—Our Defensive
Operations—Excitement in British India—Proposed Alliance with Dost
Mahomed—Failure of Burnes’s Mission considered—The claims of the
Suddozye Princes—The Tripartite Treaty—Invasion of Afghanistan
determined—Policy of the Movement.
Whilst the Persians were pushing on the siege of Herat to an
unsuccessful termination, and the Russians were extending over them
the wings of encouragement and assistance, the English in India were
devising measures for the security of their own dominions, which seemed
to be threatened by these movements on the frontier of Afghanistan.
But what these measures were to be it was not easy to determine. It was
believed that the danger was great and imminent. There was a Persian
army, under the command of the “King-of-Kings” himself, investing
Herat, and threatening to march upon Candahar and Caubul. There were
Russian diplomatists and Russian engineers in his camp, directing the
counsels of the Shah and the operations of the siege. The Barukzye
Sirdars of Afghanistan were intriguing with the Persian Court; and
far out in the distance, beyond the mountains of the Hindoo-Koosh,
there was the shadow of a great northern army, tremendous in its
indistinctness, sweeping across the wilds and deserts of Central Asia,
towards the frontiers of Hindostan.
The remoteness of the countries in which these incidents were passing,
might have reconciled our Anglo-Indian statesmen to dangers of a
character so vague, and an origin so distant; but the result of all
these disturbing rumours was an after-growth of new perils springing
up almost at our very doors. The Native States on our own borders were
beginning to evince signs of feverish unrest. From the hills of Nepaul
and the jungles of Burmah came mutterings of threatened invasion,
which compelled the British-Indian Government to look well to their
lines of frontier. Even in our own provinces, these rumours of mighty
movements in the countries of the north-west disquieted the native
mind; there was an uneasy, restless feeling among all classes, scarcely
amounting to actual disaffection, and perhaps best to be described as
a state of ignorant expectancy—a looking outwards in the belief of
some coming change, the nature of which no one clearly understood.
Among our Mussulman subjects the feeling was somewhat akin to that
which had unsettled their minds at the time when the rumoured advent
of Zemaun Shah made them look for the speedy restoration of Mahomedan
supremacy in Hindostan. In their eyes, indeed, the movement beyond the
Afghan frontier took the shape of a Mahomedan invasion, and it was
believed that countless thousands of true believers were about to pour
themselves over the plains of the Punjab and Hindostan, and to wrest
all the country between the Indus and the sea from the hands of the
infidel usurpers. The Mahomedan journals, at this time, teemed with the
utterances of undisguised sedition. There was a decline in the value
of public securities: and it went openly from mouth to mouth, in the
streets and the bazaars, that the Company’s Raj was nearly at an end.
The dangers which threatened the security of our Anglo-Indian Empire,
in 1837-38, were seen through the magnifying medium of ignorance,
and greatly exaggerated in the recital. But the appearance of the
Persian army before Herat; the presence of the Russian officers in the
Persian camp; and the intrigues of the Barukzye Sirdars of Afghanistan,
were, at all events, substantial facts. It was little doubted that
Herat would fall. There seemed, indeed, no possibility of escape. The
character of Mahomed Shah was well known; and it was not believed
that, having conquered Herat, he would there stop short in his career
of conquest. It had been long officially reported, by Mr. Ellis and
others, to the Anglo-Indian Government, that Mahomed Shah encouraged
very extensive ideas of Afghan conquest, and that the Russian officers
about his Court were continually exerting themselves to foster the
flame of his ambition. It seemed probable, therefore, that Herat,
having fallen into the hands of Mahomed Shah, the Persian monarch
would either push on his conquests to Candahar and Caubul, or, having
transferred the Heratee principality to the hands of the Candahar
Sirdars, and rendered Dost Mahomed such assistance in his wars against
the Sikhs as would make him, in effect, the vassal of Persia, would
erect, in Afghanistan, a platform of observation which might serve
as the basis of future operations to be undertaken, not only by the
Persians themselves, but also by their great northern allies.
It was plainly the policy of the British Government to preserve the
independence of Afghanistan, and to cement a friendly alliance with the
ruler or rulers of that country. But it was not very easy to discern
how this was to be effected. Our Indian statesmen had never exhibited
any very violent friendship for the Barukzye Sirdars. Lord William
Bentinck had refused to connect himself in any way with the politics of
Afghanistan; but he had suffered Shah Soojah to raise, in 1833-34, an
army of invasion under the shadow of the British flag, and had done
everything but openly assist the enterprise he was undertaking for
the recovery of his lost dominions. Some nice ideas of legitimacy and
usurpation, suggested by our own position in India, may have closed the
sympathies of our Anglo-Indian rulers against men who were simply the
_de facto_ rulers of Afghanistan, and who laboured under the imputation
of having rather acquired their dominions by right of conquest than
possessed them by right of birth. The British-Indian Government had
not concerned itself for a quarter of a century about the government
of the Douranee Empire; but it now appeared that, because Zemaun Shah
had threatened to invade India, and Shah Soojah had demonstrated his
incapacity to maintain himself in security on the throne, and to
preserve the integrity of his dominions, the English in India, when
they thought of establishing a friendly and a permanent power in the
country beyond the Indus, turned to the Suddozye Princes as the fittest
instruments for the furtherance of these ends. Even in 1833-34 it was
plain that the success of Shah Soojah would have delighted our Indian
statesmen. Though we declined to aid him in a very substantial manner,
our sympathies went with him; and now again it was obvious that we
had very little desire to conciliate the friendship of the Barukzye
Sirdars, who had long been eager for a closer alliance with the great
European power beyond the waters of the Sutlej, but who had always been
condemned to have their advances coldly received.
Before Mahomed Shah had advanced upon Herat, the British Minister at
the Court of Teheran, well acquainted with the ambitious projects of
the Persian monarch, had earnestly pressed upon the attention of the
British Government the expediency of some counteracting movement in
the country between Persia and Hindostan. And when it was known to
Mr. M’Neill that Lord Auckland had despatched Captain Burnes upon a
mission to the Court of Dost Mahomed, he wrote a long confidential
letter to that officer, setting forth the advantages of subsidising the
Ameer, and placing both Herat and Candahar under his rule. The letter
was dated March 13th, 1837. “I sincerely wish,” wrote Mr. M’Neill, “if
the Ameer Dost Mahomed Khan and you come to a good understanding, that
he were in possession of both Candahar and Herat.”[209]
And again, in the same communication, he wrote more explicitly: “Dost
Mahomed Khan, with a little aid from us, could be put in possession
of both Candahar and Herat. I anxiously hope that aid will not be
withheld. A loan of money would possibly enable him to do this, and
would give us a great hold upon him. He ought to be precluded from
receiving any other foreign representative or agent of any kind at his
Court, and should agree to transact all business with foreign powers
through the British agent. Unless something of this kind should be
done, we shall never be secure; and until Dost Mahomed Khan or some
other Afghan shall have got both Candahar and Herat into his hands, our
position here must continue to be a false one.”[210]
At this time, the Envoy in Persia, though profoundly convinced that
the Candahar Sirdars were not to be trusted, and that the game they
were playing was one injurious to the interests of Great Britain,
seemed to repose confidence in the good feeling of Dost Mahomed, and to
believe that it would be easy to secure his alliance. Of the intrigues
of the former he wrote: “Kohun Dil Khan is playing a double game, and
trying to strengthen himself by the alliance with Persia against both
Caubul and Herat. He has put himself in communication with the Russian
minister here, who has sent by the return envoy, Tej Mahomed Khan,
Barukzye, a letter and presents. The letter will not find its way to
the Khan,[211] for I am sending it to Lord Palmerston; but the presents
have been forwarded, and it appears that Kohun Dil was the first to
open the correspondence, and I think it not improbable that he had been
advised to do so by Aziz Mahomed Khan, the agent formerly sent hither,
who found the Court apparently devoted to Russia. I hope you will be
able to put a stop to the intercourse, which I have only been able to
impede and interrupt for a time.”
Such were the views and recommendations of Mr. M’Neill. Among the few
officers in the Company’s service who at that time had any knowledge
of the politics of Central Asia, not one was more conspicuous than
Captain Claude Wade, who had held for some years the delicate and
responsible office of Governor-General’s agent on the North-Western
Frontier. It was natural that, in such a conjuncture, the opinions of
so well-informed and experienced an officer should have been sought
by the Supreme Government. Captain Wade, through whose office the
Trans-Indian correspondence passed, now therefore, on forwarding to
government a copy of Mr. M’Neill’s letter, freely expressed his opinion
against the proposal to consolidate the Afghan Empire under the rule of
the Caubul Ameer. “In my opinion,” he wrote to Mr. Colvin, the private
secretary of the Governor-General, “such an experiment on the part
of our government would be to play into the hands of our rivals, and
to deprive ourselves, as it were by a _felo-de-se_, of the powerful
means which we have in reserve of controlling the present rulers of
Afghanistan. The attempt to reduce the country to the sway of one of
them would be an arduous enterprise. The chief obstacle in the way
of Dost Mahomed would be in the opposition of those who are inimical
to him and his family, and these include every other Douranee tribe
in the country, to whom, therefore, the knowledge of such a design
would render our name generally odious—whilst the attempt itself would
undoubtedly lead the Toorkomans and other great bordering tribes to
view with jealousy the powers of a chief whose interests they would
soon have the sagacity to discover we had adopted for the purpose of
serving our own interests at their expense.”
“Our policy,” continued Captain Wade, “ought not to be to destroy,
but to use our endeavours to preserve and strengthen the different
governments of Afghanistan as they at present stand; to promote among
themselves a social compact, and to conduce, by our influence, to the
establishment of that peace with their neighbours, which we are now
endeavouring to produce between them and the Sikhs on one side, and
the Sikhs and Sindhians on the other. Whilst distributed into several
states, the Afghans are, in my opinion, more likely to subserve the
views and interests of the British Government than if we attempted to
impose on them the yoke of a ruler to whose authority they can never be
expected to yield a passive obedience. Though undoubtedly weak, they
would collectively be fully adequate to the defence of their country,
when they have derived the advantages of a more decided intercourse
with our government than at present exists.... Supposing that we were
to aid Dost Mahomed to overthrow in the first place his brother at
Candahar, and then his Suddozye rival at Herat, what would be the
consequence? As the system, of which it is intended to be a part, would
not go to gratify the longing wish of Mahomed Shah for the annexation
of Herat to his dominions, the first results would be, that the
Shah-zadah Kamran would apply to Persia, and offer, on the condition of
her assistance to save him from the fate which impended over his head,
to submit to all the demands of that general, which Kamran has hitherto
so resolutely and successfully resisted, and between his fears and the
attempts of Dost Mahomed Khan to take it (Herat), which is regarded
by every one who has studied its situation as the key to Afghanistan,
would inevitably fall prostrate before the arms of Persia, by the
effect of the very measures which we had designed for her security from
Persian thraldom.”[212]
The expediency of maintaining the integrity of Herat was not at this
time more palpable than the injustice of destroying it. But it hardly
seems to have entered into the consideration of our Indian statesmen,
that to transfer Herat, or any other unoffending principality from
the hands of one ruler to those of another, was to perpetrate an act
of political tyranny not to be justified by any reference to the
advantages resulting from such a course. We had not, at that time,
the shadow of a pretext for breaking down the independence of Herat.
Kamran, indeed, was at this time about to play the very game that
tended most to the advancement of British interests. Had he formed an
alliance with Persia, having for its end the recovery of his father’s
dominions—had he advanced, with a confederate Persian army, upon Caubul
and Candahar, and consented to abandon Herat as the price of Kujjur
assistance—some pretext might have been found in these aggressive
measures for the confiscation of the principality. But Herat was now
about to erect itself into a barrier against Russo-Persian invasion,
and to fight single-handed the first great battle of resistance at the
gates of Afghanistan.
Mr. M’Neill’s project for the consolidation of the Afghan Empire found
little favour in the eyes of our Indian statesmen; but there were many
who thought that, without any acts of spoliation and oppression, the
_de facto_ rulers of Afghanistan might be so encouraged and conciliated
by small offers of assistance, as to secure their friendly co-operation
in the great work of resisting invasion from the westward. But when
Captain Burnes was despatched to Caubul, his powers were so limited,
that, although he was profuse in his expressions of sympathy, he had
not the authority to offer substantial assistance; and when he ventured
to exceed the instructions of government, he was severely censured for
his unauthorised proceedings.
His mission failed. What wonder? It could by no possibility have
succeeded. If utter failure had been the great end sought to be
accomplished, the whole business could not have been more cunningly
devised. Burnes asked everything; and promised nothing. He was tied
hand and foot. He had no power to treat with Dost Mahomed. All that he
could do was to demand on one hand and refuse on the other. He talked
about the friendship of the British Government. Dost Mahomed asked for
some proof of it; and no proof was forthcoming. The wonder is, not that
the Ameer at last listened to the overtures of others, but that he did
not seek other assistance before.
No better proof of his earnest desire to cement an alliance with the
British Government need be sought for than that involved in the fact
of his extreme reluctance to abandon all hope of assistance from the
British, and to turn his eyes in another direction. It was not until
he was driven to despair by resolute refusals from the quarter whence
he looked for aid, that he accepted the offers so freely made to him
by other States, and set the seal upon his own destruction. “Our
government,” said Burnes, “would do nothing; but the Secretary of the
Russian Legation came with the most direct offers of assistance and
money, and as I had no power to counteract him by a similar offer, and
got wigged for talking of it at a time when it would have been merely a
dead letter to say Afghanistan was under our protection, I was obliged
of course to give in.”[213] What better result Lord Auckland could
have anticipated, it is hard to say. If the failure of the Mission
astonished him, he must have been the most sanguine of men.
I am unable to perceive that there was anything unreasonable or
unfriendly in the conduct of Dost Mahomed at this time. That, from
the very first, he was disappointed, there is no doubt. He had formed
exaggerated ideas of the generosity and munificence of the British
Government in the East, and, doubtless, expected great things from the
contemplated alliance. The Mission had scarcely been a day in Caubul,
when the feelings of the Ameer were shocked, the exuberance of his
hopes somewhat straitened, and his dignity greatly offended, by the
paltry character of the presents of which Burnes was the bearer. No
one ignorant of the childish eagerness with which Oriental Princes
examine the ceremonial gifts presented to them by foreign potentates,
and the importance which they attach to the value of these presents,
as indications of a greater or less degree of friendship and respect
on the part of the donor, can appreciate the mortification of Dost
Mahomed on discovering that the British Government, of whose immense
resources and boundless liberality he had so exalted a notion, had
sent him nothing but a few trumpery toys. Burnes had been directed to
“procure from Bombay such articles as would be required to be given in
presents to the different chiefs.” And it had been characteristically
added: “They ought not to be of a costly nature, but should be chosen
particularly with a view to exhibit the superiority of British
manufacturers.” Accordingly the envoy had provided himself with a
pistol and a telescope for Dost Mahomed, and a few trifles for the
inmates of the Zenana—such as pins, needles, and play-things.[214]
The costliness of the presents lavished upon Shah Soojah, when the
Mission under Mountstuart Elphinstone had entered Afghanistan, was
still a tradition throughout the country. The Ameer was disappointed.
He thought that the niggardliness of the British Government, in this
instance portended no good. Nor was he mistaken. He soon found that the
intention to give little was manifest in all the proceedings of the
Mission.
It has been said that the Ameer asked more than could reasonably be
granted; that he had no right to look for the restoration of Peshawur,
as that tract of country, since the dismemberment of the Douranee
Empire, had fallen to the share of Sultan Mahomed. It is very true
that the country had once been governed by Sultan Mahomed. Now to
have re-established him at Peshawur would have been to have paved the
way for the march of Runjeet Singh’s army to Caubul. So thought Dost
Mahomed. It was better to submit quietly to the unassisted enmity
of the Maharajah, than to have an insidious enemy on the frontier,
by whose agency Runjeet Singh might have accomplished that which he
could not have achieved alone. It was the treachery of Sultan Mahomed
that had lost Peshawur to the Afghans. It was the personal energy,
the martial prowess, of Dost Mahomed that had secured the supremacy
of the Barukzyes in Afghanistan; and as Sultan Mahomed Khan wanted
the ability, or the honesty, to hold his own at Peshawur, it was but
natural and fitting that the chief of the Barukzyes should endeavour to
enter into arrangements better calculated to preserve the integrity of
the Afghan frontier. He desired, in the first instance, the absolute
possession of Peshawur on his own account. He subsequently consented
to hold it, conjointly with Sultan Mahomed, in vassalage to Runjeet
Singh. Had the British Government endeavoured to effect an amicable
arrangement between the Ameer and the Maharajah, there is no room to
doubt that Dost Mahomed would have rejected all overtures from the
westward, and proved to us a firm and faithful ally. But, instead of
this, we offered him nothing but our sympathy; and Dost Mahomed, with
all respect for the British Government, looked for something more
substantial than mere meaningless words.
That his conduct throughout the long negotiations with Burnes
was characterised by an entire singleness of purpose and
straightforwardness of action is not to be maintained; but it may with
truth be said that it evinced somewhat less than the ordinary amount
of Afghan duplicity and deceit. Singleness and straightforwardness do
not flourish in the near neighbourhood either of Eastern or Western
diplomacy; and perhaps it is not wise, on our own account, to look too
closely into these matters. The wonder is, not that the Ameer was so
deceitful, so tortuous, so arrogant, and so exacting, but that he was
so sincere, so straightforward, so patient, and so moderate. He might
have possessed all these qualities in much scantier measure, and yet
have been a very respectable Afghan chief.
It was, however, decreed that Dost Mahomed was a hostile chief; and the
policy of the British Government soon made him one. Had Burnes been
left to obey the dictates of his own reason and to use the light of
his own experience, he would have conciliated both the Candahar Sirdars
and the Caubul Ameer, and raised up an effective bulwark in Afghanistan
against Persian invasion and Russian intrigue. We refused to detach
Kohun Dil Khan from the Persian alliance, and we deliberately drove
Dost Mahomed Khan into it. In fact, our policy, at this time, seems
to have been directed to the creation of those very difficulties to
encounter which the British Government launched into the Afghan war.
Unfortunately, at this time, Lord Auckland was separated from his
Council. He was on his way to that pleasant hill Sanitarium, at Simlah,
where our Governors-General, surrounded by irresponsible advisers,
settle the destinies of empires without the aid of their legitimate
fellow-counsellors, and which has been the cradle of more political
insanity than any place within the limits of Hindostan. Just as Mahomed
Shah was beginning to open his batteries upon Herat, and Captain Burnes
was entering Caubul, Lord Auckland, taking with him three civilians,
all men of ability and repute—Mr. William Macnaghten, Mr. Henry
Torrens, and Mr. John Colvin—turned his back upon Calcutta.
Mr. Macnaghten was at this time chief secretary to Government. He
had originally entered the service of the East India Company in the
year 1809, as a cadet of cavalry on the Madras establishment; and
whilst yet a boy acquired considerable reputation by the extent of
his acquirements as an Oriental linguist. Transferred in 1814 to the
Bengal civil service, he landed at Calcutta as the bearer of the
highest testimonials from the government under which he had served;
and soon justified by his distinguished scholarship in the college of
Fort William the praises and recommendations of the authorities of
Madras. It was publicly said of the young civilian by Lord Hastings,
that “there was not a language taught in the college in which he had
not earned the highest distinctions which the Government or the College
could bestow.” On leaving college he was appointed an assistant in the
office of the Register of the Sudder Dewany Adawlut, or High Court of
Appeal; and in 1818 he quitted Calcutta to enter upon the practical
duties of the magistracy, but after a few years was recalled to the
Presidency and to his old office, and in a little while was at the
head of the department in which he had commenced his career. During a
period of eight years and a half, Mr. Macnaghten continued to occupy
the responsible post of Register of the Sudder Dewany Adawlut, and
was only removed thence to accompany Lord William Bentinck, in the
capacity of secretary, on the tour which that benevolent statesman
was about to commence, at the close of 1830, through the Upper and
Western Provinces of India. The objects of this journey were connected
entirely with measures of internal reform; but having approached the
territories of Runjeet Singh, the Governor-General met the old Sikh
chief at Roopur, and there Macnaghten, who had up to this time been
almost wholly associated with affairs of domestic administration,
graduated in foreign politics, and began to fathom the secrets of the
Lahore Durbar. Returning early in 1833 to Calcutta, with his experience
greatly enlarged and his judgment matured by the opportunities
afforded him on his journey, as well as by his intimate relationship
with so enlightened and liberal a statesman as Lord William Bentinck,
Macnaghten now took charge of the Secret and Political Department
of the Government Secretariat, and remained in that office during
the interregnum of Sir Charles Metcalfe, and the first year of Lord
Auckland’s administration, until summoned by the latter to accompany
him on his tour to the North-Western Provinces.
Such, briefly narrated, were the antecedents of Macnaghten’s official
life. That he was one of the ablest and most assiduous of the many able
and assiduous civil servants of the East India Company all men were
ready to admit. With a profound knowledge of Oriental languages and
Oriental customs, he combined an extensive acquaintance with all the
practical details of government, and was scarcely more distinguished as
an erudite scholar than as an expert secretary. In his colleague and
assistant, Mr. Henry Torrens, there were some points of resemblance to
Macnaghten; for the younger officer was also an accomplished linguist
and a ready writer, but he was distinguished by a more mercurial
temperament and more varied attainments. Perhaps there was not in all
the presidencies of India a man—certainly not so young a man—with the
lustre of so many accomplishments upon him. The facility with which he
acquired every kind of information was scarcely more remarkable than
the tenacity with which he retained it. With the languages of the East
and the West he was equally familiar. He had read books of all kinds
and in all tongues, and the airy grace with which he could throw off a
French canzonet was something as perfect of its kind as the military
genius with which he could sketch out the plan of a campaign, or the
official pomp with which he could inflate a state paper. His gaiety
and vivacity made him a welcome addition to the Governor-General’s
vice-regal court; and perhaps not the least of his recommendations
as a travelling companion was that he could amuse the ladies of Lord
Auckland’s family with as much felicity as he could assist the labours
of that nobleman himself.
Mr. John Colvin was the private secretary of the Governor-General, and
his confidential adviser. Of all the men about Lord Auckland, he was
believed to exercise the most direct influence over that statesman’s
mind. Less versatile than Torrens, and less gifted with the lighter
accomplishments of literature and art, he possessed a stronger will
and a more powerful understanding. He was a man of much decision and
resolution of character; not troubled with doubts and misgivings; and
sometimes, perhaps, hasty in his judgments. But there was something
noble and generous in his ambition. He never forgot either the claims
of his country or the reputation of his chief. And if he were vain, his
vanity was of the higher, but not the less dangerous class, which seeks
rather to mould the measures and establish the fame of others than to
acquire distinction for self.
Such were the men who accompanied Lord Auckland to the Upper Provinces
of India. About him also clustered the common smaller staff of military
_aides-de-camp_; and not very far in the background were the two
sisters of his lordship—ladies of remarkable intelligence and varied
accomplishments, who are supposed to have exercised an influence not
wholly confined to the social amenities of the vice-regal camp. Lord
Auckland was not wanting in judgment or sagacity, and his integrity
of purpose is undoubted; but he lacked decision of character; he too
often mistrusted his own opinions, and yielded his assent to those of
irresponsible advisers less single-minded and sagacious than himself.
The men by whom he was surrounded were among the ablest and most
accomplished in the country; but it was for the most part a dangerous
kind of cleverness that they possessed; there was too much presumption
in it. These secretaries, especially the two younger ones, were too
ardent and impulsive—they were of too bold and ambitious a nature to
be regarded as anything better than perilous and delusive guides. But
Lord Auckland entrusted himself to their guidance. Perhaps, he scarcely
knew to what extent he was swayed by their counsels; but it is my
deliberate conviction, that if he had not quitted Calcutta, or if he
had been surrounded by older and more experienced advisers, he would
have followed a line of policy more in accordance with his own feelings
and opinions, and less destructive to the interests of the empire.
But, so surrounded, Lord Auckland journeyed by easy stages towards the
cool mountain-ranges of the Himalayah; and as he advanced, there came
to the vice-regal camp tidings, from time to time, of the progress
or no-progress of Mahomed Shah’s army before Herat, and of Burnes’s
diplomatic movements at the Court of the Caubul Ameer. There was
much in all this to perplex Lord Auckland. He was in all sincerity
a man of peace. They who best knew his character and that of his
chief secretary,[215] predicted that if war could, in any way, be
avoided, there would be no war. But from all quarters came disturbing
hints and dangerous promptings; and Lord Auckland thus assailed, had
not resolution enough to be true to his own moderate and cautious
character.[216] Mr. M’Neill had despatched Major Todd from Herat to the
camp of the Governor-General; and had urgently solicited Lord Auckland
to adopt vigorous measures for the intimidation of Persia and the
defence of Herat, which, it was alleged, could not much longer resist
the efforts of the investing force. Nothing short of the march of a
British army upon Herat was thought by some sufficient to stem the tide
of Russo-Persian invasion. The British Government, seeing everywhere
signs of the restless aggressive spirit of Russia, and the evident
tendency of all her movements towards the East, had written strong
letters to the Governor-General, urging him to adopt vigorous measures
of defence. His own immediate advisers were at hand to second the
suggestions both of Mr. M’Neill and the British Minister; and so Lord
Auckland, though he hesitated to undertake a grand military expedition
across the Indus, was persuaded to enter upon defensive measures of a
dubious character, affecting the whole question of the sovereignty of
the Douranee Empire.
The open, acknowledged danger, to be met by vigorous measures on the
part of our Anglo-Indian statesmen, was the attempt of Mahomed Shah
to destroy the integrity of Herat, and his asserted claims to the
sovereignty of Ghuznee and Candahar. It is true that by the ninth
article of the treaty with Persia, England was especially bound not
to interfere in any quarrels between the Afghans and the Persians;
but our statesmen both in the East and the West, saw a ready means of
escape from these conditions in the circumstances of the assault on
Mr. M’Neill’s courier, which, however contemptible in themselves, were
sufficient to bring about a temporary rupture between Persia and Great
Britain. Lord Auckland was slow to encourage an idea of the expediency
of such direct interference as would be involved in the passage of a
British army across the great boundary line of the Indus. But he saw
the necessity of so establishing our influence in Afghanistan as to
erect a secure barrier against invasion from the westward; and now
that he had abandoned all desire to propitiate Dost Mahomed and the
Barukzye chiefs, and had begun to think of carrying out his objects
through other agency, it was only natural that he should have turned
his thoughts, in the first instance, to the Suddozye pensioner of
Loodhianah, who had made so many unsuccessful efforts to reseat himself
upon the throne of the Douranee Empire.
Shah Soojah had lived so long upon the bounty of the British
Government, that it was only reasonable to believe that we should find
in him a fast friend and a faithful ally. But when in the month of
May, 1838, Lord Auckland, then at Simlah, wrote an elaborate minute,
setting forth his opinions regarding the measures best calculated
to secure the integrity of the western frontier of Afghanistan, and
suggesting the restoration of the exiled Suddozye Prince, it was
evident that he had not, at that time, grasped the grand, but perilous
idea, of sending a British army into the fastnesses of Afghanistan
to break down the dynasty of the Barukzyes, to set up a monarch of
our own, and so to roll back for ever the tide of western invasion.
He meditated nothing more at this time than the encouragement of an
expedition to be undertaken by Shah Soojah and Runjeet Singh, the
British Government supplying money, appointing an accredited agent to
accompany the Shah’s camp, and furnishing a certain number of British
officers to direct the movements of the Shah’s army.[217] It appeared
to him that there were but three courses open to him; “the first to
confine our defensive measures to the line of the Indus, and to leave
Afghanistan to its fate; the second, to attempt to save Afghanistan,
by granting succour to the existing chiefships of Caubul and Candahar;
the third, to permit or to encourage the advance of Runjeet Singh’s
armies upon Caubul, under counsel and restriction, and as subsidiary
to his advance to organise an expedition headed by Shah Soojah, such
as I have above explained.” “The first course,” argued Lord Auckland,
“would be absolute defeat, and would leave a free opening to Russian
and Persian intrigue upon our frontiers. The second would be only to
give power to those who feel greater animosity against the Sikhs, than
they do against the Persians, and who would probably use against the
former the means placed at their disposal; and the third course, which
in the event of the successful resistance of Herat, would appear to be
most expedient, would, if the state were to fall into the hands of the
Persians, have yet more to recommend it, and I cannot hesitate to say,
that the inclination of my opinion is, for the reasons which will be
gathered from this paper, very strongly in favour of it.”[218]
All this is sufficiently moderate, if it is not sufficiently just.
The whole question is argued simply as one of expediency. It appeared
to Lord Auckland to be most expedient to construct an alliance between
Runjeet Singh and Shah Soojah for the recovery of the lost dominions
of the latter. England was to remain in the background jingling the
money-bag. At this time, it had been arranged that Macnaghten should
proceed, with little delay, to the Court of Lahore. It had been
intended, in the first instance, that the mission should be merely a
complimentary one. But as events began to thicken in the north-west, it
appeared impossible to confine to such narrow limits the communications
which he was instructed to make to the Maharajah. He was now enjoined
to sound Runjeet Singh on the subject of the proposed confederate
expedition against the Barukzye Sirdars of Afghanistan. These
instructions were written three days after the minute of the 12th of
May. It seems that in this brief interval some idea of the employment
of British troops in support of the Suddozye prince had dawned upon
the understanding of the Governor-General. It is certain, at least,
that the letter written by Mr. Torrens speaks of a demonstration to be
made “by a division of the British army occupying Shikarpoor.”[219]
This was a step in advance. The great project to which Lord Auckland
subsequently lent himself was only then beginning to take shape in his
mind.
The Mission crossed the Sutlej, and on the 31st of May were presented
to Runjeet Singh at Adeenanuggur. In a mango-grove—each under the
shadow of its own tree—the Sikh ruler had ordered a number of mud-huts
to be erected for the accommodation of Macnaghten and his companions.
Small and comfortless as were these abodes, the officers of the Mission
joyfully resorted to them for shelter from the intolerable summer-sun
and the burning winds, which had scorched them in their own tents.
Even now something horrible in the retrospect to the survivors of the
Mission is the fiery heat of that June weather.
In the midst of much pomp and splendour, surrounded by his courtiers,
the Maharajah received the English gentlemen[220] with befitting
cordiality and respect. As Macnaghten entered the hall, the aged
Prince rose from his seat, and tottering along the whole length of the
presence-chamber, warmly embraced the British minister, and welcomed
the other gentlemen of the Mission. After the usual compliments had
been exchanged, and the presents sent by the British Government had
been examined by the Maharajah with curious minuteness, a conversation
ensued on an infinite variety of topics. “The Maharajah,” wrote
Macnaghten to the Governor-General, “passed from war to wine, and from
learning to hunting, with breathless rapidity. He was particularly
anxious to know how much each member of the Mission had drunk of some
ardent liquor he had sent them the night before. He was equally anxious
to know the distance at which a shrapnel shot could do execution. It is
impossible to say on which of these subjects his interrogatives were
most minute. He asked me if I was a good huntsman, and on replying in
the negative, he asked me if I knew Arabic and Sanscrit. On receiving
a reply in the affirmative, as if doubtful of what I had said, he
insisted on my reciting a couplet of the former language. He asked
about Herat—about Dost Mahomed Khan, about the Persian army and their
connection with the Russians, and the possibility of their invading
India.”[221] It was not prudent to enter too minutely into this matter
in open Durbar. Macnaghten replied, briefly and generally, to the
questions about Russo-Persian invasion, and laughed the idea to scorn.
“I can enter more fully into the question,” he added, “at a private
interview.”
On the morning of the 3rd of June, Macnaghten and the other members
of the Mission, accompanied also by Captain Wade and Lieutenant
Mackeson,[222] appeared by invitation at Durbar. There was some
general conversation about the relations between Russia and Persia;
and then a signal was made to the British officers to retire into
an inner apartment. There the business of the conference was now
to be transacted. On the part of the Lahore government there were
present—Dhyan Singh, the minister; his son Heerat Singh, the favourite
of the Maharajah; Lehna Singh, Adjeet Singh, and other Sirdars, with
the doctor-secretary, the Fakir Aziz-ood-deen. On the part of the
Mission, there were present with Macnaghten, Captains Osborne and Wade.
Macgregor, Mackeson, and Dr. Drummond remained outside with some other
officers of the Maharajah’s Court.
Runjeet Singh commenced the conference. The letter of the
Governor-General, he said, had been read to him, and he fully
understood its contents. He desired that all present should hear it;
and accordingly the Fakir Aziz-ood-deen, whose polished manners and
admirable address presented a striking contrast to the ruder bearing
of the Sikh chiefs by whom he was surrounded, read the letter aloud,
and, with that unequalled power of interpretation of which he was
the master, distinctly explained every sentence. Macnaghten was then
requested to state what he had to say on the part of the British
Government. This he did fluently and well. Whether all he advanced
was strictly true it is hardly necessary to inquire. Diplomacy is not
intended to be subjected to such a test. The tender interest taken
in the honour and dignity of the Maharajah were descanted upon, on
the one side, and the unreasonableness of Dost Mahomed on the other.
The failure of Burnes’s Mission was spoken of as the result of the
unwillingness of the Caubul Ameer to break off negotiations with
other foreign agents, though even at that time Dost Mohamed, after
Burnes’s departure, was making a last despairing effort to win back
the friendship of the British Government.[223] Then came a somewhat
inflated eulogium on the resources of the British Government, and the
200,000 soldiers who could at any time be brought into the field to
resist a simultaneous invasion from all the four sides of India. If
then, urged Macnaghten, such were the unaided power of the British
Government, what must that power be when united with the strength of
the Sikh Empire? There was nothing, indeed, of a palpable character
to be apprehended from the movements of the Russians and Persians, or
the hostility of the Barukzye Sirdars, but as their intrigues, it
was said, must have the effect of unsettling men’s minds, both in the
British and the Sikh dominions, it was desirable to concert measures
for the future suppression of all these disturbing influences. He had,
therefore, been despatched by the Governor-General of India to the
Court of the Maharajah, to ascertain the wishes of his Highness.
Runjeet listened very patiently to this address, only interrupting
the speaker now and then to express his assent to Macnaghten’s
statements; and when asked what were his wishes, replied that they
were the wishes of the British Government. After some further
interchange of compliments, Runjeet asked what were the wishes of
the British Government; and the British Envoy then began guardedly
to state them after the manner of the instructions he had received.
There were two courses, he said, open to the Maharajah—the one was, to
act independently; the other was, to act in concert with the British
Government. A murmur of approbation arose from the assembled chiefs,
when Runjeet broke in with the assertion that it was his wish to act
in concert with the British Government. Entreating him not to decide
hastily, but to weigh well the details of the two schemes, Macnaghten
then said, “Your Highness some time ago formed a treaty with Shah
Soojah-ool-Moolk. Do you think it would be still for your benefit that
the treaty should stand good, and would it be agreeable to your wishes
that the British Government should become a party to that treaty?”
“This,” replied Runjeet, “would be adding sugar to milk.” “If such,”
said Macnaghten, “be decidedly the wish of your Highness, I do not
think that the Governor-General would object to supply Shah Soojah
with money and officers to enable him to recover his throne.” He then
proceeded to state what were the views of the Governor-General—that the
Shah should advance by the route of Candahar, whilst the Sikh troops
should advance upon Caubul through the Khybur Pass. “Circumstances,”
it was added, “might arise to render it necessary for the British
Government to send some of its own troops down the Indus, to repel any
threat of aggression in that direction.” “How many?” asked Runjeet. The
answer was, “As many as the exigency of the occasion may require; but
their employment in that direction will only be temporary.”
Macnaghten next launched into a panegyric on the general moderation of
the British Government; and then having entered into some particulars
relating to the necessary modification and extension of the treaty
between Shah Soojah and Runjeet Singh,[224] proceeded to call the
attention of the Maharajah to the second plan suggested by the
Governor-General—the plan of independent action on the part of the Sikh
ruler, which Lord Auckland declared that he was more inclined to favour
than the other project. But it was with difficulty that Runjeet Singh
could be induced to listen to this proposal. His impatience broke out
openly. His mind, he said, was made up on the subject. He would have
nothing to do with the independent expedition. The plan first set forth
by the British Envoy was the one which he purposed to accept; and so
Macnaghten could only say in reply, that though the Governor-General
approved of the course last stated, his Lordship set too much value on
the friendship of the Maharajah to wish to force it upon him.
It now only remained to settle the details of the project for the
subversion of Barukzye ascendancy in Afghanistan. So little at this
time was it in contemplation that the brunt of the expedition should
fall upon the British army, that Runjeet, who soon began to have his
misgivings regarding the success of an undertaking in which his own
troops and the raw levies of Shah Soojah were to be the main actors,
sent the Fakir Aziz-ood-een to ask Macnaghten whether, in the event of
the allies sustaining a reverse, the British Government were prepared
to support them. The affirmative reply hardly seemed to satisfy the
Sikh agent, who spoke of the remoteness of our resourses from the
scene of action; and it was obviously then the desire of his master
that the British troops should take a more prominent part in the
coming expedition. He seemed, indeed, to think that too large a share
of the danger[225] devolved upon him, and that he was to be allowed
too little of the spoil.[226] The advantages to be derived from the
alliance with Shah Soojah were not, he said, so great that he might
not reasonably ask for something beyond what had been set forth in the
proposals of the British Government; and it is not to be denied that
there was at this time some show of truth in the assertion. Macnaghten
continued to reply that the Maharajah, if he were not satisfied with
the terms of the treaty, was at liberty to act independently, and
that it would be no offence to the British Government if he preferred
that scheme to the other. But he took the opportunity, in the course
of one of his conferences with the Sikh agents, to hint that it was
possible that “circumstances might occur to render it necessary for
us to counteract danger, and that if it seriously threatened us, we
might be compelled to arrest the advance of the Persians by the advance
of our own troops; and in this case we might find it expedient to
support the cause of Shah Soojah.” This, however, was uttered in a
precautionary spirit, “in order to guard against the possibility of its
being supposed hereafter that we designedly concealed our intentions
from his Highness, and that we had sinister and exclusive views of our
own.”[227]
On the 23rd of June, by which time the Mission had followed the camp of
the Maharajah to Lahore, and the patience of the British negotiators
had been well-nigh exhausted by the vexatious claims and frivolous
objections of the Sikh party, a statement to the same effect was made
on Macnaghten’s authority by Lieutenant Mackeson[228] to Runjeet Singh
himself; and the Maharajah told the British officer at once, in his
hurried, emphatic manner, to prepare the treaty. It seemed as though
the many objections which had been started, had originated from the
Maharajah’s advisers rather than from himself, and that they had
kept out of his way the probability of the British Government acting
for themselves independently in the matter before him. But now that
the case had been plainly stated in his own hearing, Runjeet at once
grasped the whole question; fully comprehended his own position;
and resolutely decided for himself. But, never forgetful of his own
interests, he clamoured still for the cession of Jellalabad;[229] and,
with seeming coquettishness consented to receive two lakhs of rupees in
the shape of an annual subsidy, instead of the territorial accession,
which the British agent had resolutely refused.
On the 26th of June, the treaty was formally signed by the Maharajah.
It had been slightly modified since the original draft was prepared;
but, with the exception of the introduction of the subsidy article,
had undergone no essential alterations. It was, in effect, a treaty
between Runjeet Singh and Shah Soojah, guaranteed by the British
Government; and it ran in the following words:
_Treaty of alliance and friendship executed between Maharajah
Runjeet Singh and Shah Soojah-ool-Moolk, with the approbation of, and
in concert with, the British Government._
Whereas a treaty was formerly concluded between Maharajah Runjeet
Singh and Soojah-ool-Moolk, consisting of fourteen articles, exclusive
of the preamble and the conclusion; and whereas the execution of the
provisions of the said treaty was suspended for certain reasons; and
whereas at this time Mr. W. H. Macnaghten, having been deputed by the
Right Honourable George Lord Auckland, Governor-General of India, to
the presence of Maharajah Runjeet Singh, and vested with full powers
to form a treaty in a manner consistent with the friendly engagements
subsisting between the two states, the treaty aforesaid is revived
and concluded with certain modifications, and four new articles have
been added thereto, with the approbation of, and in concert with,
the British Government, the provisions whereof as contained in the
following eighteen articles, will be duly and faithfully observed.
1st. Shah Soojah-ool-Moolk disclaims all title on the part of himself,
his heirs, successors, and all the Suddozyes, to whatever territories
lying on either bank of the River Indus that may be possessed by the
Maharajah—viz., Cashmere, including its limits, east, west, north, and
south, together with the Fort of Attock, Chuch Hazara, Khebel, Amb,
with its dependencies on the left bank of the aforesaid river; and on
the right bank Peshawur, with the Eusafzae territory, Kheteks, Husht
Nagger, Mechnee, Kohat, Himgoo, and all places dependent on Peshawur,
as far as the Khybur Pass; Bunnoo, the Vezeree territory, Dour Tuwk,
Goraug Kulabagh, and Kushulgher, with their dependent districts; Dera
Ishmael Khan, and its dependency, together with Dera Ghazee Khan, Kut,
Methen, Omerkoth, and their dependent territory; Secughur, Heren Dajel,
Hajeepore, Rajenpore, and the three Ketchees, as well as Mankeera, with
its districts, and the province of Mooltan, situated on the left bank.
These countries and places are considered to be the property and to
form the estate of the Maharajah; the Shah neither has, nor will have,
any concern with them. They belong to the Maharajah and his posterity
from generation to generation.
2nd. The people of the country on the other side of Khybur will not
be suffered to commit robberies, or aggressions, or any disturbances
on this side. If any defaulter of either state who has embezzled the
revenue take refuge in the territory of the other, each party engages
to surrender him, and no person shall obstruct the passage of the
stream which issues out of the Khybur defile, and supplies the fort of
Futtehgurh with water according to ancient usage.
3rd. As agreeably to the treaty established between the British
Government and the Maharajah, no one can cross from the left to the
right bank of the Sutlej without a passport from the Maharajah; the
same rule shall be observed regarding the passage of the Indus whose
waters join the Sutlej; and no one shall be allowed to cross the Indus
without the Maharajah’s permission.
4th. Regarding Shikarpoor and the territory of Sindh lying on the right
bank of the Indus, the Shah will agree to abide by whatever may be
settled as right and proper, in conformity with the happy relations of
friendship subsisting between the British Government and the Maharajah,
through Captain Wade.
5th. When the Shah shall have established his authority in Caubul
and Candahar, he will annually send the Maharajah the following
articles—viz., 55 high-bred horses of approved colour and pleasant
paces, 11 Persian cimeters, 7 Persian poniards, 25 good mules; fruits
of various kinds, both dry and fresh, and surdees or musk melons of a
sweet and delicate flavour (to be sent throughout the year), by the way
of Caubul River to Peshawur; grapes, pomegranates, apples, quinces,
almonds, raisins, pistales or chronuts, an abundant supply of each;
as well as pieces of satin of every colour, choghas of fur, kimkhobs
wrought with gold and silver, and Persian carpets altogether to the
number of 101 pieces; all these articles the Shah will continue to send
every year to the Maharajah.
6th. Each party shall address the other in terms of equality.
7th. Merchants of Afghanistan, who will be desirous of trading to
Lahore, Umritsur, or any other parts of the Maharajah’s possessions,
shall not be stopped or molested on their way. On the contrary, strict
orders shall be issued to facilitate their intercourse, and the
Maharajah engages to observe the same line of conduct on his part in
respect to traders who may wish to proceed to Afghanistan.
8th. The Maharajah will yearly send to the Shah the following articles
in the way of friendship: 55 pieces of shawls, 25 pieces of muslin, 11
dooputtas, 5 pieces of kinkhob, 5 scarves, 55 tinbuns, 55 loads of Bara
rice (peculiar to Peshawur).
9th. Any of the Maharajah’s officers who may be deputed to Afghanistan
to purchase horses, or on any other business, as well as those who may
be sent by the Shah into the Punjab for the purpose of purchasing piece
goods or shawls, &c., to the amount of 11,000 rupees, will be treated
by both sides with due attention, and every facility will be afforded
to them in the execution of their commission.
10th. Whenever the armies of the two states may happen to be assembled
at the same place, on no account shall the slaughter of kine be
permitted to take place.
11th. In the event of the Shah taking an auxiliary force from the
Maharajah, whatever booty may be acquired from the Barukzyes in jewels,
horses, and arms great and small, shall be equally divided between
the two contracting parties. If the Shah should succeed in obtaining
possession of their property without the assistance of the Maharajah’s
troops, the Shah agrees to send a portion of it by his own agents to
the Maharajah, in the way of friendship.
12th. An exchange of missions, charged with letters and presents, shall
constantly take place between the two parties.
13th. Should the Maharajah require the aid of any of the Shah’s troops
in furtherance of the object contemplated by this treaty, the Shah
engages to send a force commanded by one of his principal officers;
in like manner, the Maharajah will furnish the Shah, when required,
with an auxiliary force composed of Mahomedans, and commanded by one
of his principal officers as far as Caubul, in furtherance of the
objects contemplated by this treaty. When the Maharajah may go to
Peshawur, the Shah will depute a Shah-zadah to visit him; on which
occasions the Maharajah will receive and dismiss him with the honour
and consideration due to his rank and dignity.
14th. The friends and enemies of each of the three high powers—that is
to say, the British and Sikh Governments and Shah Soojah-ool-Moolk,
shall be the friends and enemies of all.
15th. Shah Soojah-ool-Moolk agrees to relinquish for himself, his
heirs, and successors, all claims of supremacy and arrears of tribute
over the country now held by the Ameers of Sindh (which will continue
to belong to the Ameers and their successors in perpetuity), on
condition of the payment to him by the Ameers of such a sum as may be
determined, under the mediation of the British Government, of such
payment being made over by him to Maharajah Runjeet Singh. On these
payments being completed, article 4 of the treaty of the 12th of March,
1833, will be considered cancelled, and the customary interchange of
letters and suitable presents between the Maharajah and the Ameers of
Sindh shall be maintained as heretofore.
16th. Shah Soojah engages, after the attainment of his object, to pay
without fail to the Maharajah the sum of two lakhs of rupees of the
Nanukshahee or Kuldar currency, calculating from the date on which
the Sikh troops may be despatched for the purpose of reinstating his
Majesty in Caubul, in consideration of the Maharajah stationing a
force of not less than 5000 men—cavalry and infantry—of the Mohamedan
persuasion, within the limits of the Peshawur territory for the support
of the Shah, and to be sent to the aid of his Majesty whenever the
British Government, in concert and counsel with the Maharajah, shall
deem the aid necessary; and when any matter of great importance may
arise to the westward, such measures will be adopted with regard to it
as may seem expedient and proper at the time to the British and Sikh
Governments. In the event of the Maharajah requiring the aid of the
Shah’s troops, a deduction shall be made from the subsidy proportioned
to the period for which such aid may be afforded; and the British
Government holds itself responsible for the punctual payment of the
above sum annually to the Maharajah, so long as the provisions of this
treaty are duly observed.
17th. When Shah Soojah-ool-Moolk shall have succeeded in establishing
his authority in Afghanistan, he shall not attack or molest his nephew,
the ruler of Herat, in the possession of his territories, now subject
to his government.
18th. Shah Soojah-ool-Moolk binds himself, his heirs, and successors,
to refrain from entering into negotiations with any foreign state,
without the knowledge and consent of the British and Sikh Governments,
and to oppose any power having the design to invade the British and
Sikh territories by force of arms, to the utmost of his ability.
The three powers parties to this treaty—namely, the British Government,
Maharajah Runjeet Singh, and Shah Soojah-ool-Moolk—cordially agree to
the foregoing articles. There shall be no deviation from them, and in
that case the present treaty shall be considered as binding for ever;
and this treaty shall come into operation from and after the date on
which the seals and signatures of the three contracting parties shall
have been affixed thereto. Done at Lahore, this 26th day of June, in
the year of our Lord 1838, corresponding with the 15th of the month of
Assar, 1895. Area of Bekramajeet.
The treaty was despatched to Simlah for the signature of the
Governor-General, which Runjeet Singh expressed some anxiety to obtain
with the least possible delay. But Lord Auckland at once decided
that he could with no propriety attach his name to the treaty until
it had been sanctioned and signed by Shah Soojah. Anxious as he
was to conclude the negotiation, Runjeet Singh could not demur to
this decision. His patience, however, was not to be severely taxed.
Macnaghten was directed to proceed with all possible expedition to
obtain the consent of the Shah; and so, on the 13th of July, the
Maharajah gave the English gentlemen their audience of leave; and,
amidst the most profuse expressions of friendship and attachment, they
took their departure from Runjeet’s Court.
They turned their faces towards Loodhianah. A pensioner on the bounty
of the British Government, Shah Soojah, ever since his last disastrous
attempt to regain his empire, had dwelt there in the midst of his
family as one not yet reconciled to a life of peaceful obscurity, but
somewhat sobered down by the repeated failures which had beset his
unfortunate career. It is probable that no political vicissitudes in
Afghanistan, however favourable to the restoration of the monarchy,
would have tempted him to head another expedition for the recovery of
Caubul and Candahar. But when reports reached him of the designs of
the British Government, and the probability that he would be supplied
with British money and British skill for the support and conduct of the
army which he was to lead against the Barukzye Sirdars, he saw more
clearly his way to his old place in the Balla Hissar of Caubul; and
long dormant hopes and expectations began to revive within him. But he
could not wholly suppress his suspicions of the sincerity both of the
British and the Sikhs; and his delight was straitened by the thought
that he would, in effect, be little more than a passive instrument in
the hands of his powerful and ambitious allies.
On the evening of the 15th of July, accompanied by Captain Wade
and Lieutenant Mackeson, Mr. Macnaghten waited on Shah Soojah at
Loodhianah. Seated on a musnud slightly elevated above the level
of the room, the Shah received the British gentlemen with becoming
cordiality, and desired them to seat themselves on a carpet beside
him. Macnaghten commenced the conference. He spoke of the friendly
feeling that had always existed between the British Government and the
Suddozye Princes, since Mr. Elphinstone’s mission to Afghanistan. He
said that, although unable actively to co-operate with the Shah in his
first attempts to regain his kingdom, the British Government had always
desired the success of his undertakings. He explained the circumstances
under which a mission had been sent to the Court of Dost Mahomed. And
then, with as little truth as had marked his previous communications
to Runjeet, commented upon the unfriendly manner in which the Mission
had been received, and the conduct of the Ameer in “rejecting our good
offices;” conduct which had rendered it necessary to counteract his
hostile designs by establishing a friendly power in the territories of
Afghanistan.
To all of this the Shah listened attentively, and then said that he
had always foretold the result of the mission to the Court of Dost
Mahomed—(which was a piece of good luck the Ameer was not able to
appreciate)—that he who had not been true to his own master was little
likely to be true to a foreign power; but that now he would see the
result of his folly, and be baffled in his attempt to betray his
country into the hands of the Persian invaders.
Upon this Macnaghten at once announced the intention of the British
Government to restore Shah Soojah to his hereditary dominions. It
would have been more agreeable, he said, to his government to act
in such a matter without consulting any other state; but that the
Sikhs were now in actual possession of so many of the provinces of
the old Douranee Empire, and their interests so intimately associated
with those of the British in that part of the country, that it was
impossible to omit them from the compact—that, consequently, the
Governor-General had instructed him to wait on Runjeet Singh, and
that the result had been the formation of a treaty which was now to
be submitted for his Majesty’s approval, together with a letter from
Lord Auckland. The letter was then read; and Macnaghten reverting first
to the old treaty between Shah Soojah and Runjeet Singh, said that it
was the intention of the British Government to become a party to its
stipulations under certain alterations and additions. With the utmost
unconcern the Shah said that a paper of some kind had been exchanged
with Runjeet Singh, but that it was merely to the effect that if he
regained his dominions there should be an interchange of friendly
letters, presents, and missions between the two Courts.
Whether Macnaghten smiled at this version of the old alliance is
not on record. But he began now to read and explain the articles of
the amended treaty. The Shah’s comments were frequent and emphatic.
Sneering at the minuteness with which the possessions of Runjeet Singh
were defined in the first article, he declared that Peshawur was only
a burden to the Sikh government, and that Runjeet would willingly
hand it over to any one but Dost Mahomed. Indeed, he said, that the
Maharajah’s vakeel had often pledged his word to him that, in the event
of his recovering his throne, Peshawur should be reannexed to his
dominions. But when Captain Wade and Moollah Shikore[230] recalled,
to his Majesty’s recollection that Peshawur had been expressly named
in the old treaty among the possessions of Runjeet Singh, the Shah
acknowledged that it was so, and yielded the point.
Other articles were then commented on by the Shah and his agent; but
that which seemed most to stagger them was the stipulation for the
annual payment by Caubul of two lakhs to the state of Lahore. Little
advantage, observed the Shah, could the British Government expect to
derive from his restoration, if they placed him in a position inferior
to that held by the present ruler of Caubul, who paid no tribute to
the Sikhs. “He had long,” he said, “indulged a hope that the day would
come when the British Government, whose honoured guest he had been for
more than twenty years, would restore him to the throne and possessions
of his ancestors—that the British Government must be aware that, after
such a period of dependence on them, in whatever manner they chose to
send him forth, his fair name was identified with their own—that in
this world a good name alone deserved to be prized—that half a loaf
with a good name were better than abundance without it. He then alluded
to the small revenues of Afghanistan—said that Caubul and Candahar
yielded nothing—that when Shikarpoor paid its revenues regularly, the
amount realised was only three lakhs—that to enable him to establish
his government, and keep it, he would require to maintain 15,000
troops; and how were they to be paid?—that it would be less irksome
if the money were only required to be paid whenever he had occasion
to make use of the services of Runjeet Singh’s troops.”[231] To all
this Macnaghten replied, that the payment was not by any means, to
be regarded in the light of tribute from a weaker to a more powerful
state, but simply as remuneration for services performed. Adroitly
alluding to the subsidy recently paid by the British Government to
the Persian state, the English Envoy said that a powerful government
often subsidised, for its own uses, a weaker one; and that if Runjeet
did not furnish the troops, the Shah would be exempted from paying
the money; but that as the former was bound to hold them always in
readiness for service, it would not be reasonable to pay them only when
they were called into the field. Indeed, he urged, Runjeet Singh had
with difficulty been persuaded to consent to the terms of this very
article, which imposed upon him no light conditions, and had, moreover,
been substituted as a compensation to the Maharajah for withdrawing
the demands he had made for actual territorial concessions both at
Shikarpoor and Jellalabad.
There was little to be said in reply to this. The Shah yielded a
reluctant assent. The remaining articles of the treaty were read, and
called forth but slight comment. Macnaghten then invited the Shah to
state unreservedly his opinions on the whole question. Thus appealed
to, the exiled King spoke out cordially and unrestrainedly, but with a
full sense of what was due to himself. “He spoke of his long connexion
with the British Government, of his fortune being entirely in their
hands—said that he had entertained the hope, in his long exile, that
it would sooner or later stretch out its arm to restore him to all
the possessions and powers of his ancestors; but that if this hope
could not at once be fulfilled, he must content himself with what now
remained of the disjointed kingdom of Afghanistan; that in the event of
the straitened revenue of Candahar and Caubul being further reduced by
the payment of two lakhs of rupees annually to the Sikhs, he must look
to support from the British Government to meet and oppose any increased
danger from the approach of more powerful enemies from the westward. On
this point full assurance was given him. He then observed that there
were one or two other points in which he wished to have assurance
given him, and that, in other respects, he was at the disposal of the
British Government:—1stly. That no interference should be exercised
with his authority over those of his tribe and household; 2ndly. That
he should be allowed to raise forces of his own to go with some show
of power, and not as though he were a mere puppet in the hands of
the British Government to work out their views. He then dwelt on the
importance of this in the eyes of his people who would come to join
his standard; said that if they found he was no longer the source of
honour and reward, they would desert him and return to their homes, as
they would have no object in connecting themselves with the schemes of
foreigners—that he should therefore be allowed to commence recruiting
men, as many were waiting to enter his service—that when his adherents
flocked to his standard, he should be able to give them hopes of reward
for their services.”[232]
On all these points the fullest assurances were given to the Shah. Then
Macnaghten began to set forth how it was the desire of the British
Government that one of their own functionaries should be stationed at
the Shah’s Court;[233] and that British officers should be furnished to
discipline the Shah’s levies, to command them during the expedition,
and to remain with him after his restoration. To all of this the Shah
readily assented. Declaring himself confident of success, he then
expressed an eager hope that no delay would be permitted, but that
the expedition would set out as soon as ever the troops could be
raised for the purpose. When the beginning of the ensuing cold weather
was named as the time for commencing operations, the Shah expressed
surprise and regret that the movement should be so long delayed; and
urged the expediency of moving whilst Herat was still holding out. His
appearance in the neighbourhood of Candahar, he said, would doubtless
compel Mahomed Shah to withdraw his investing army, and secure the
frontier against all future attacks.[234]
Then Macnaghten asked the King whether it were his desire to advance
by the Khybur Pass, or the route of Sindh. To this Shah Soojah replied
that the Khyburees were his slaves—that they were willing to sacrifice
themselves at his bidding—that he frequently received imploring letters
from the Momunds, the Eusofzyes, and other tribes in the neighbourhood
of Peshawur, but that there were so many solid advantages in the
combined movement by Candahar and Peshawur, which would completely
paralyse the movements of Dost Mahomed, that he gave it the preference.
His own force, he said, should advance by Candahar, whilst his eldest
son, Prince Timour, might accompany the Sikh army through the Khybur
Pass.[235]
Little more now remained to be said. But before taking his leave of the
Shah, Macnaghten invited him to state in writing the points on which
he required the assurances of the British Government, and expressed
a hope that, as the Mission had received instructions to return
immediately to Simlah, his Majesty’s wishes might be laid before him
with the least possible delay. Desiring the British Envoy to call upon
him again on the following evening, after leisure had been allowed
him to study well the contents of the proposed treaty, the Shah then
bade him adieu; and the English officers took their departure. It did
not appear to those present, on this occasion, when the sovereignty
of Afghanistan was offered to the long-exiled monarch, and now, for
the first time since his dethronement, there dawned upon him something
like a certainty of recovering his lost dominions, that he received
the announcements of the English Mission with feelings of very earnest
exultation and delight. There were evidently some misgivings in the
mind of the Shah, who mistrusted both Runjeet Singh and the British
Government. Everything seemed to have been already arranged between
the two parties, whilst he himself, it appeared, was designed to be a
passive instrument for the furtherance of their ends—a puppet in their
hands, to give grace to the show and character to the expedition.
An hour before the time appointed for the second meeting between Shah
Soojah and the British Emissary, Moollah Shikore waited upon the latter
with a paper, setting forth the points upon which the Shah especially
desired to have the assurances of the British Government. They ran to
the following effect:
_Firstly._ That as regards the descendants of the King of the
Douranees (Ahmed Shah), and the sons and relations of myself, whoever
they may be, the right of providing for them or not, and the direction
of all that concerns them, belong to me alone; in this matter neither
the British Government nor other shall exercise any interference.[236]
_Secondly._ After I have been re-instated in Caubul and Candahar,
if, in consequence of the smallness of my possessions, I should
desire to send an army against Balkh, Seistan, Beloochistan, and
the neighbourhood and dependencies of Caubul and Candahar, and take
possession of them, no hindrance shall be offered.[237]
_Thirdly._ When Caubul and Candahar become mine, the dependencies of
those places, as they existed in the time of the monarchy, ought to
belong to me.[238]
_Fourthly._ When I have been re-instated at Caubul, and the officers
of the British Government prepare to return, should I desire to retain
one of them as an envoy, and some others for the purpose of forming
and disciplining my army, they will not be refused.[239]
_Fifthly._ The British officers shall exercise no authority over
the people of Afghanistan, whether soldiers or subjects, without my
approbation and concurrence.[240]
_Sixthly._ With respect to giving two lakhs of rupees, and something
besides from Shikarpoor, it appears to me very hard and difficult;
firstly, because my country will not afford means sufficient for
the expenses of my government and the maintenance of my troops; and
secondly, because the measure will be considered by the world as
payment of tribute. It rests, however, with the British Government,
and if it is of opinion that the country has the means, and that the
measure is a proper one, I do not object. The conduct of my affairs is
in the hands of the British Government.[241]
_Seventhly._ After the decay of the monarchy, in the same manner
as my servants rebelling usurped the country, so did the Sindhians
place officers in possession of Shikarpoor; now that I shall regain
possession of my kingdom, the Sindhians must release Shikarpoor. It is
a royal possession, and must belong to me.[242]
_Eighthly._ With respect to slave-girls who ran away from their
masters, although to deliver them up may be against the regulations,
yet it is a matter of necessity, for respectable people (females)
cannot dispense with servants, however the regulations may be enforced
with other people, it is not right to apply them to a guest, it is
proper that the slave-girls of the _Vilaitis_ (native of Afghanistan)
attached to me, who may run away from their masters, be made to
return.[243]
Having mastered the contents of this paper, Macnaghten proceeded to the
audience, and after the first salutations, began, with his Majesty’s
permission, to read over the several articles, and comment on them as
he proceeded. He then went on to say that it was now plain that the
Shah’s mind had been set at rest on all the points which had before
occasioned him doubt, and as his Majesty was now prepared without
scruple to ratify the treaty, he hoped that he would furnish him with
a written paper to this effect. To this the Shah readily assented, and
the following postscript was then appended to the document:
After a reperusal of the treaty, and hearing the representations
made by the British officers of high rank, it appeared to me right
that, in the foregoing enumeration of the objects to be desired, the
mention of Shikarpoor should not be introduced, and with respect to
the objections which I have stated, to giving two lakhs of rupees to
Runjeet Singh, in exchange for the services of his troops, as it does
not appear to me injurious to my dignity, I have omitted all mention
of that also, and am now prepared with willingness and satisfaction to
sign the treaty.[244]
The negotiation now at an end; the Shah expressed his eagerness to
commence work without delay; and was argent in his solicitations for
an immediate supply of money, arms, and ammunition. He again, too,
expressed his desire to conduct the expedition for the recovery of his
dominions, as one relying mainly upon the strength of his own army.
He wished to obtain the assistance of British officers in raising and
disciplining his troops, but he hoped “that the immediate operations
for regaining his throne might be conducted” by those troops. Such
reliance on his own arms would raise, he said, his character in the
estimation of the people, “while the fact of his being upheld by
foreign force alone could not fail to detract, in a great measure,
from his dignity and consequence.”[245] He had already, he declared,
in reply to a suggestion from the British Envoy, sent letters to many
persons of influence in Afghanistan, calling upon them to join his
standard, and he was certain that thousands would flock to it from all
parts of the country.[246] He appeared to be in the highest spirits,
and spoke strongly of the debt of gratitude which he owed to the
British Government, both for the protection that had been yielded him
during past years, and for the more active assistance which was about
to confer upon him so much power and grandeur.
Macnaghten now took his leave of the Shah, and proceeded with the
officers of the Mission to pay a visit to Zemaun Shah, who, blind and
powerless, had remained since his dethronement an appendage to the
faded Court of his younger brother, dreaming over the past grandeur of
his magnificent reign, and sighing to revisit the scene of his bygone
glories. Vague rumours of the intention of the British Government to
restore the Suddozye Princes to the sovereignty of Afghanistan had
reached him in his dreary exile; and now that the British Envoy was at
his door, so eager was he to learn the whole truth, that almost before
the ordinary salutations had been exchanged, he pressed Macnaghten for
a full revelation of the glad tidings of which he was the bearer. The
intelligence, which the English gentleman imparted to him, stirred
the heart of the old blind Prince with joy and exultation. “He seemed
filled with delight at the prospect of being permitted to revisit the
land of his ancestors.”[247] This was the first gleam of good fortune
that had burst upon him for many years; and it was a curious and
affecting sight to mark the effect which the announcement of the good
offices of the British wrought upon one, who, forty years before, had
threatened vast expeditions to the southward, which had filled the
British in India with anxiety and alarm.
On the 17th of July, Macnaghten and his suite turned their backs upon
Loodhianah, and repaired, with all possible haste, to Simlah, there
to discuss with Lord Auckland and the secretaries who had remained
with him, the measures now to be adopted for the restoration of Shah
Soojah-ool-Moolk to the long-lost empire of Ahmed Shah.
CHAPTER IV.
[July—October, 1838.]
The Simlah Manifesto—The Simlah Council—Influence of Messrs. Colvin
and Torrens—Views of Captains Burnes and Wade—Opinions of Sir Henry
Fane—The Array of the Indus—The Governor-General’s Manifesto—Its
Policy considered.
It is obvious that, in all the negotiations detailed in the preceding
chapter, the paramount idea was that of an alliance between Runjeet
Singh and Shah Soojah, guaranteed by the British Government, and a
conjoint expedition into Afghanistan from the two sides of Peshawur and
Shikarpoor, to be undertaken by the armies of the Lahore ruler and the
Suddozye Prince. It was hinted to Runjeet Singh that events might be
developed, which would render necessary the more active co-operation
of the British army; but Shah Soojah, who was desirous above all
things that the British should not take the foremost part in the
coming expedition, was led to believe that, assisted by a few British
officers, he would be left to recover for himself his old dominions,
and that he would by no means become a puppet in the hands of his
Feringhee allies.[248]
But these moderate views were about now to be expanded into a political
scheme of far wider scope and significance. Whilst Macnaghten was
negotiating the tripartite treaty at Lahore and Loodhianah, John Colvin
and Henry Torrens remained at Simlah, as the scribes and counsellors
of the Governor-General. To what extent their bolder speculations
wrought upon the plastic mind of Lord Auckland it is not easy, with
due historical accuracy, to determine. But it is generally conjectured
that the influences then set at work overcame the scruples of the
cautious and peace-loving statesman, and induced him to sanction an
enterprise of a magnitude commensurate with the bold and ambitious
views of his irresponsible advisers. The direct influence mainly
emanated from John Colvin. It is probable, indeed, that the counsels
of a man so young and so erratic as Henry Torrens would have met
with no acceptance from the sober-minded nobleman at the head of the
government, but for a circumstance which gave weight to his opinions
and cogency to his advice. By all the accidents of birth and early
associations, as well as by the bent of his own genius, the young
civilian was a true soldier. The son of a distinguished officer and
an approved military teacher, he had graduated, whilst yet a boy,
in the learning of the camp, and his after studies had done much to
perfect his acquaintance with the tactics and strategy of modern
warfare. He possessed, indeed, the very knowledge which the other
members of the Simlah Council most wanted; and hence it was that he
came to exercise considerable influence over Lord Auckland, more
perhaps through his brother secretaries than directly brought to bear
upon the mind of the Governor-General himself. It was urged that the
expedition, if entrusted entirely to Shah Soojah and the Sikhs, would
set in disastrous failure; and there was at least some probability
in this. Runjeet Singh was no more than lukewarm in the cause; and
the Sikhs were detested in Afghanistan. Lord Auckland shrunk from the
responsibility of despatching a British army across the Indus; but,
warned of the danger of identifying himself with a slighter measure
promising little certainty of success, he halted, for a time, between
two opinions, and slowly yielded to the assaults of his scribes.[249]
There were two other men then on the frontier whose opinions Lord
Auckland had been naturally desirous to obtain. Captain Burnes and
Captain Wade were at least acquainted with the history and politics of
Afghanistan, and they had freely placed their sentiments on record.
It has been advanced that the course of policy eventually pursued was
in accordance with the views of these two officers. It is important,
therefore, that it should be clearly ascertained what those views
actually were.
On the 20th of July Captain Burnes joined the Simlah Council. On the
29th of May, whilst halting at Peshawur, he had received a letter from
Mr. Macnaghten, instructing him to proceed at once to join the British
Mission, and in obedience to the summons had started at once on his
downward journey. In the middle of June he had joined the camp of the
British Envoy at Lahore, and taken part in the later deliberations
which had preceded the acceptance by Runjeet Singh of the terms
proposed by the British Government; and on the departure of the Mission
for Loodhianah had proceeded to join Lord Auckland and his advisers at
Simlah.[250]
Burnes had already placed his opinions on record. At Hussan Abdool
he had received Macnaghten’s letter calling upon him for his views
regarding the best means of counteracting the hostile influence of
the Barukzye chiefs, and on the 2nd of June he had despatched a
long demi-official letter, stating the policy which, under the then
existing circumstances, he conceived it expedient to adopt, “not,” in
his own emphatic words, “what was best; but what was best under the
circumstances, which a series of blunders had produced.”
It is plain that no advice offered by Burnes could have had any effect
upon the question of the restoration of Shah Soojah. Macnaghten, on
reaching Adeenanuggur, had determined not to await the arrival of the
agent from Caubul before stating the views of the British Government
to Runjeet Singh. He had, indeed, given the Maharajah the option of
participating in an expedition for the restoration of Shah Soojah
before he had received, either orally or by letter, the recommendations
of Captain Burnes. When Burnes joined the British Mission, our
Government was irretrievably committed to a course of policy which he
either might or might not have supported. If he had any influence on
the future out-turn of events, it was rather as the adviser of Runjeet
Singh[251] than as the adviser of the British Mission. The fatal offer
had been made to the Maharajah before Burnes joined the Mission camp.
What Burnes really recommended, as the growth of his own free and
unfettered opinion was, that the case of Dost Mahomed should be
reconsidered, and that the British Government should act with him and
not against him. “It remains to be reconsidered,” he wrote,[252] “why
we cannot act with Dost Mahomed. He is a man of undoubted ability,
and has at heart a high opinion of the British nation; and if half
you must do for others were done for him, and offers made which he
could see conduced to his interests, he would abandon Russia and
Persia to-morrow. It may be said that opportunity has been given him;
but I would rather discuss this in person with you, for I think there
is much to be said for him. Government have admitted that he had at
best a choice of difficulties; and it should not be forgotten that we
promised nothing, and Persia and Russia held out a great deal.” But
Burnes had been asked for his advice, not regarding the best means
of counteracting Persian or Russian influence in Afghanistan, but
the best means of counteracting Dost Mahomed; and he gave it as his
opinion, that if Dost Mahomed were to be counteracted, the restoration
of Shah Soojah was a more feasible project than the establishment of
Sikh influence at Caubul. Captain Wade had declared his conviction
that the disunion of the Afghan chiefs was an element of security to
the British; but this opinion Burnes controverted, and pronounced
himself in favour of the consolidation of the Afghan Empire. “As things
stand,” he wrote, “I maintain that it is the best of all policy to make
Caubul in itself as strong as we can make it, and not weaken it by
divided forces. It has already been too long divided. Caubul owed its
strength in bygone days to the tribute of Cashmere and Sindh. Both are
irrevocably gone, and while we do all we can to keep up the Sikhs, as a
power east of the Indus, during the Maharajah’s life or afterwards, we
should consolidate Afghan power west of the Indus, and have a king, and
not a collection of chiefs. _Divide et impera_ is a temporising creed
at any time; and if the Afghans are united, we and they bid defiance to
Persia, and instead of distant relations we have everything under our
eye, and a steadily progressing influence all along the Indus.”
Such were the general views that Burnes enunciated, in the knowledge
that the Simlah Cabinet had determined on the deposition of Dost
Mahomed. In fulfilment of the object thus contemplated, he recommended
that the empire should be consolidated under Shah Soojah, rather
than under Sultan Mahomed or any other chief. He believed that the
restoration of the ex-King could be accomplished with the greatest
facility, at a very trifling expenditure of the resources and display
of the power of the British Government. “As for Shah Soojah-ool-Moolk,
personally,”[253] he wrote, “the British Government have only to send
him to Peshawur with an agent, and two of its own regiments as an
honorary escort, and an avowal to the Afghans that we have taken up his
cause, to ensure his being fixed for ever on the throne. The present
time is perhaps better than any previous to it, for the Afghans, as a
nation, detest Persia, and Dost Mahomed having gone over to the Court
of Teheran, though he believes it to be from dire necessity, converts
many a doubting Afghan into a bitter enemy. The Maharajah’s opinion has
only, therefore, to be asked for the ex-King’s advance on Peshawur,
granting him, at the same time, some four or five of the regiments
which have no Sikhs in their ranks, and Soojah becomes King. He need
not move from Peshawur, but address the Khyburrees, Kohistanees of
Caubul, and all the Afghans from that city, (stating) that he has the
co-operation of the British and the Maharajah, and with but a little
distribution of ready money—say, two or three lakhs of rupees—he will
find himself the real King of the Afghans in a couple of months. It is,
however, to be remembered always, that we must appear directly, for
the Afghans are a superstitious people, and believe Shah Soojah to have
no fortune—but our name will invest him with it.”
Such were the sanguine expectations of Captain Burnes, and the very
moderate policy which he was inclined to recommend, on the presumption
that all amicable relations with Dost Mahomed had now been repudiated
by the British Government. The opinions of Captain Wade were scarcely
less in accordance with those which found favour in the Simlah
Council-Chamber. It had ever been the belief of this officer that
the consolidation of Afghanistan would prove injurious to British
interests. He had insisted that it was the wisest policy to support
the existing rulers, and to encourage the disunion among them. Of Dost
Mahomed, personally, Captain Wade entertained no favourable opinion.
He underrated both the character of the man and his influence over his
countrymen; but so little was he disposed to counsel the subversion
of the existing rule in Afghanistan, that he was always willing
to endeavour to bring about an arrangement with Dost Mahomed, by
recommending Runjeet Singh to accept the overtures of the Ameer.[254]
It was his opinion, that if the consolidation of the country were to be
attempted at all, it would be more expedient to support the claims of
Shah Soojah than of Dost Mahomed; but he regarded the restoration of
the Shah only as a last resort, and would rather have seen the Barukzye
chiefs left quietly in their own possessions. Indeed, in the very
letter of the 1st of January, 1838, on which so much stress has been
laid, Captain Wade, even in the printed version, says: “Shah Soojah’s
recognition could only, however, be justified or demanded of us, in
the event of the prostration of Herat to the Persian Government;” and
in the unprinted portion of this letter the writer says: “I can see
nothing in the state of parties at present in the Punjab to deter us
from pursuing a line of policy” (in Afghanistan), “every way consistent
with our engagements, our reputation, and our interests—viz., that
of recognising the present holders of power, and discouraging any
ambitious schemes of one party to the detriment of another.” And in
conclusion, Captain Wade sums up what he believes to be the true policy
of the British, declaring that “if Dost Mahomed is kept, as he now is,
at Caubul, whether as a Governor of the province, under Shah Soojah, or
in independence of him, and Peshawur be restored to Sultan Mahomed, or
remain as at present, we might not only be safe from disturbances, or
any sudden inroads from the western powers, but be enabled to secure
the integrity of the Sikh nation as far as the Indus, and would mould
these people and their already more than half-disciplined troops to
our wishes.”[255] Captain Wade over-estimated the popularity of Shah
Soojah. He was in constant receipt of information to the effect that
the Douranees and other tribes were eager for his return; and he did
not, perhaps, sufficiently consider that the Afghans always long for
what they have not, and are seldom unripe for revolution. But although
he believed it would be safer to attempt to re-establish the integrity
of Afghanistan under Shah Soojah than under Dost Mahomed, he thought
that it would be better policy still to leave untouched the disunion
and antagonism of the Barukzye Sirdars.
Such, read by the light of their unmutilated despatches, were the
genuine opinions of Burnes and Wade. But the Simlah Council had more
ambitious views, and were disposed towards more extensive plans of
operation. First one project, then another, had been discussed. It
had been debated, firstly, whether the movement on Candahar could be
undertaken by the Shah’s raw levies, supported only, as originally
intended, by a British army of reserve at Shikarpoor; and secondly,
whether some two or three regiments of British troops would not
be sufficient to escort the Shah’s army into the heart of his old
dominions. Both of these projects were abandoned.
Sir Henry Fane was at this time commander-in-chief of the British
forces in India. He had pitched his tent at Simlah, and was in
frequent consultation with the Governor-General. He was a fine old
soldier of the Tory school, with very strong opinions regarding the
general “shabbiness” of all Whig doings, and a strenuous dislike of
half-measures, especially in military affairs. It is believed that
he did not approve of the general policy of British interference in
the affairs of Afghanistan,[256] but he was entirely of opinion that
it was the duty of government, in the conjuncture that had arisen,
either not to interfere at all, or to interfere in such a manner as
to secure the success of our operations. Always by nature inclined
towards moderate measures, the Governor-General for some time resisted
the urgent recommendations of those who spoke of the formation of a
grand army, drawn from our own regular establishment, to be headed by
the commander-in-chief in person, and marched upon Candahar, perhaps
upon Herat itself. But Lord Auckland was never the most resolute of
men. His own confidential advisers had long been endeavouring to
convince him of the necessity of adopting more vigorous measures.
The commander-in-chief was not only recommending such measures, but
insisting upon his right, as the first military authority in the
country, to determine the number of British troops to be employed,
and the manner of their employment. And the ministers of the Crown,
fortified by the knowledge that the expenses of the war would fall
upon the treasury of the East India Company, and that they would
not be called by the British people to account for any expenditure,
however lavish, upon remote warlike operations, which the public might
easily be persuaded to regard as the growth of the most consummate
wisdom, were exhorting Lord Auckland to adopt effectual measures for
the counteraction of Russian intrigue and Persian hostility in the
countries of Afghanistan. So, after some weeks of painful oscillation,
Lord Auckland yielded his own judgment to the judgment of others, and
an order went forth for the assembling of a grand army on the frontier,
to be set in motion early in the coming cold weather, in support of
Shah Soojah and his levies; to cross the Indus; and to march upon
Candahar.
In August, the regiments selected by the commander-in-chief were
warned for field-service, and on the 13th of September he published a
general order, brigading the different components of the force, naming
the staff-officers appointed, and ordering the whole to rendezvous at
Kurnaul. The reports, which all through the dry summer months had been
flitting about from cantonment to cantonment, and making the pulses
of military aspirants, old and young, beat rapidly with the fever of
expectancy, now took substantial shape; and everywhere the approaching
expedition became the one topic of conversation. Peace had reigned over
India for so many years, that the excitement of the coming contest
was as novel as it was inspiriting. There was not an officer in the
army who did not long to join the invading force; and many from the
distant Presidency, or from remote provincial stations, leaving the
quiet staff-appointments which had lapped them long in ease and luxury,
rushed upwards to join their regiments. Even in that unpropitious
season of the year, when the country was flooded by the periodical
rains, corps were set in motion towards Kurnaul, from stations as low
down as Benares, and struggled manfully, often through wide sheets of
water, to their destination at the great northern rallying point. There
had been no such excitement in military circles since the grand army
assembled for the reduction of Bhurtpore; and though the cause was
not a popular one, and there was scarcely a mess-table in the country
at which the political bearings of the invasion of Afghanistan were
discussed without eliciting the plainest possible indications that the
sympathies of our officers were rather with the Barukzye chief than the
Suddozye monarch, there was everywhere the liveliest desire to join the
ranks of an army that was to traverse new and almost fabulous regions,
and visit the scenes rendered famous by the exploits of Mahmoud of
Ghuzni and Nadir Shah.
The army now warned for field-service consisted of a brigade of
artillery, a brigade of cavalry, and five brigades of infantry. Colonel
Graham was to command the artillery; Colonel Arnold the cavalry; whilst
the brigades of infantry were assigned respectively to Colonels Sale
and Dennis, of the Queen’s; and Colonels Nott, Roberts, and Worseley,
of the Company’s service. The infantry brigades were told off into two
divisions under Sir Willoughby Cotton, an old and distinguished officer
of the Queen’s army, who had rendered good service in the Burmese war,
and was now commanding the Presidency division of the Bengal army, and
Major-General Duncan, an esteemed officer of the Company’s service,
who was then in command of the Sirhind division of the army, and was
therefore on the spot to take the immediate management of details.
The regiments now ordered to assemble were her Majesty’s 16th Lancers,
13th Infantry, and 3rd Buffs; the Company’s European regiment;
two regiments of Native light cavalry, and twelve picked Sepoy
corps.[257] Two troops of horse artillery and three companies of foot,
constituted the artillery brigade; and some details of sappers and
miners, under Captain Thomson, completed the Bengal force. The usual
staff-departments were formed to accompany the army,[258] the heads
of departments remaining in the Presidency whilst their deputies
accompanied the forces into the field.
Whilst the Bengal army was assembling on the northern frontier of
India, under the personal command of Sir Henry Fane, another force was
being collected at Bombay. It was composed of a brigade of cavalry,
including her Majesty’s 4th Dragoons, a brigade of artillery, and a
brigade of foot, consisting of two Queen’s regiments (the 2nd Royals
and 17th Foot) and one Sepoy corps. Major-General Thackwell commanded
the cavalry; Major-General Wiltshire the infantry; and Colonel
Stevenson the artillery brigade. Sir John Keane, the commander-in-chief
of the Bombay army, took command of the whole.
Such was the extent of the British force warned for field-service in
the autumn of 1838. At the same time another force was being raised for
service across the Indus—the force that was to be led by Shah Soojah
into Afghanistan; that was to be known distinctively as _his_ force;
but to be raised in the Company’s territories, to be commanded by the
Company’s officers, and to be paid by the Company’s coin.
To this army was to have been entrusted the work of re-establishing
the authority of the Suddozye Princes in Western Afghanistan; but
it had now sunk into a mere appendage to the regular army which the
British-Indian Government was about to despatch across the Indus;
and it was plain that, whatever opposition was to be encountered,
the weight of it would fall, not upon Shah Soojah’s raw levies, but
upon the disciplined troops of the Indian army that were to be sent
with them, to secure the success of the otherwise doubtful campaign.
Whatever work there might be in store for them, the recruiting went on
bravely. For this new service there was no lack of candidates in the
Upper Provinces of India. The Shah himself watched with eager pride
the formation of the army which was to surround him on his return to
his own dominions, but was fearful lest the undisguised assumption
of entire control by the British officers appointed to raise his new
regiments should deprive him of all the _éclat_ of independence with
which he was so anxious to invest his movements. It was, indeed, no
easy matter, at this time, to shape our measures in accordance with
the conflicting desires of the old king, who wished to have everything
done for him, and yet to appear as though he did it himself. To Captain
Wade was entrusted the difficult and delicate duty of managing one
who, by nature not the most reasonable of men, was rendered doubly
unreasonable by the anomalous position in which he found himself after
the ratification of the tripartite treaty. It was difficult, indeed,
to say what he was at this time. At Loodhianah he had hitherto been
simply a private individual. He had held no recognised position. He
had been received with no public honours. He had gone hither and
thither, almost unnoticed. He had excited little interest, and met with
little attention. Some, perhaps, knew that he had once been an Afghan
monarch, and that he received four thousand rupees a month from the
British Government as a reward for his incapacity and a compensation
for his bad fortune. Beyond this little was known and nothing was
cared. But now, suddenly, he had risen up from the dust of Loodhianah
as a recognised sovereign and framer of treaties—a potentate meeting
on equal terms with the British Government and the Maharajah of the
Punjab. He could not any longer be regarded as a mere tradition. He had
been brought prominently forward into the light of the Present; and it
was necessary that he should now assume in men’s eyes something of the
form of royalty and the substance of power.
It was natural that, thus strangely and embarrassingly situated, the
Shah should have earnestly desired to bring his sojourn at Loodhianah
to a close, and to launch himself fairly upon his new enterprise. The
interval between the signing of the treaty and the actual commencement
of the expedition was irksome in the extreme to the expectant monarch.
It was plain that he could not move without his army; he therefore did
his best to expedite its information. Constantly attending the parade
where the work of recruiting was going on, he desired personally to
superintend both the payment and the enlistment of his men; and was
fearful lest a belief should become rooted in the public mind that
he was not about to return to Afghanistan as an independent Prince,
ruling his own people on his own account. The tact and discretion
of Captain Wade smoothed down all difficulties. Whilst preventing
such interference on the part of Shah Soojah as might embarrass the
movements of the British officers appointed to raise and discipline
his regiments, he contrived to reconcile the mind of the King to the
system in force by directing that certain reports should be made to
him on parade, and at other times through an appointed agent, of the
number of men enlisted into his service, and the amount of pay that was
due to each.[259] At the same time, it was suggested to the commanding
officer of the station that, as one entitled to the recognitions due
to royalty, the Shah should be saluted by the troops when he appeared
in public. The suggestion was promptly acted upon; and the King, whose
inveterate love of forms and ceremonies clung to him to the end of his
days, rejoiced in these new demonstrations of respect, and bore up till
his time of trial was over.
In the meanwhile Lord Auckland, having thus mapped out a far more
extensive scheme of invasion than had ever been dreamt of, a few months
before, in his most speculative moments, was thinking of the agency
which it was most desirable to employ for the political management
of the ensuing campaign. It had been determined that a British Envoy
should accompany Runjeet Singh’s army by the Peshawur route, and that
another should accompany Shah Soojah’s camp on its march towards the
western provinces of Afghanistan. There was no difficulty in naming the
officer who was to superintend the demonstration to be made by the Sikh
troops through the formidable passes of the Khybur. Captain Wade was
nominated to this office. He was to be accompanied by the eldest son of
Shah Soojah, the Prince Timour, a man of respectable character, but not
very brilliant parts, whose presence was to identify the Sikh movement
with the immediate objects of his father’s restoration, and to make
obvious to the understandings of all men that Runjeet Singh was acting
only as Shah Soojah’s ally.
But it was not so easy to determine to whom should be entrusted the
difficult and responsible duty of directing the mind of Shah Soojah,
and shaping, in all beyond the immediate line of military operations,
the course of this great campaign. It seemed at first that the claims
of Alexander Burnes could not be set aside. No man knew the country and
the people so well; no man had so fairly earned the right to be thus
employed. But it soon appeared to Burnes himself, sanguine as he was,
that Lord Auckland designed to place him in a subordinate position;
and chafing under what appeared to him a slight and an injustice, he
declared that he would either take the chief place in the British
Mission, or go home to England in disgust.[260] But these feelings
soon passed away. It had been debated whether the chief political
control should not be placed in the hands of the commander-in-chief;
and Sir Henry Fane, naturally favouring an arrangement which would have
left him free to act as his own judgment or his own impulses might
dictate, wished to take Burnes with him as his confidential adviser.
But this plan met with little or no encouragement. The Governor-General
appreciated Burnes’s talents, but mistrusted his discretion. He
thought it advisable to place at the stirrup of Shah Soojah an older
head and a steadier hand. Men, who at this time watched calmly the
progress of events, and had no prejudices and predilections to gratify,
and no personal objects to serve, thought that the choice of the
Governor-General would fall upon Colonel Henry Pottinger, who had been
familiar from early youth with the countries beyond the Indus, and was
now in charge of our political relations with the Court of Hyderabad,
in Sindh. But Lord Auckland had no personal knowledge of Colonel
Pottinger. There was little identity of opinion between them; and the
Governor-General recognised the expediency of appointing to such an
office a functionary with whom he had been in habitual intercourse, who
was necessarily, therefore, conversant with his views, and who would
not scruple to carry them out to the utmost.