It appears, however, that the contention of the Chancellor was strictly

in accord with one of the fundamental laws of the Empire. His attitude

towards France throughout the later phases of the Boulanger affair was

coldly "correct," while he manifested the greatest deference towards the

private prejudices of the Czar when the Empress Frederick allowed the

proposals of marriage between her daughter and Prince Alexander of

Battenberg to be renewed. Knowing the unchangeable hatred of the Czar

for the ex-Prince of Bulgaria, Bismarck used all his influence to thwart

the proposal, which was defeated by the personal intervention of the

present Kaiser[266]. According to our present information, then, German

policy was sincerely peaceful, alike in aim and in tone, during the

first six months of the year; and the piling up of armaments which then

went on from the Urals to the Pyrenees may be regarded as an

unconsciously ironical tribute paid by the Continental Powers to the

cause of peace.

[Footnote 266: _Bismarck: Some Secret Pages, etc._ vol. iii. p. 335.]

* * * * *

A change came over the scene when William II. ascended the throne of

Germany (June 15, 1888). At once he signalised the event by issuing a

proclamation to the army, in which occurred the words: "I swear ever to

remember that the eyes of my ancestors look down upon me from the other

world, and that I shall one day have to render account to them of the

glory and honour of the army." The navy received his salutation on that

same day; and not until three days later did a proclamation go forth to

his people. Men everywhere remembered that "Frederick the Noble" had

first addressed his people, and then his army and navy. The inference

was unavoidable that the young Kaiser meant to be a Frederick the Great

rather than a "citizen Emperor," as his father had longed to be known.

The world has now learnt to discount the utterances of the most

impulsive of Hohenzollern rulers; but in those days, when it knew not

his complex character, such an army order seemed to portend the advent

of another Napoleon.

Not only France but Russia felt some alarm. True, the young Kaiser

speedily paid a visit to his relative at St. Petersburg; but it soon

appeared that the stolid and very reserved Alexander III. knew not what

to make of the versatile personality that now controlled the policy of

Central Europe. It was therefore natural that France and Russia should

take precautionary measures; and we now know that these were begun in

the autumn of that year.

In the first instance, they took the form of loans. A Parisian

financier, M. Hoskier, Danish by descent, but French by naturalisation

and sympathy, had long desired to use the resources of Paris as a means

of cementing friendship, and, if possible, alliance with Russia. For

some time he made financial overtures at St. Petersburg, only to find

all doors closed against him by German capitalists. But in the spring of

the year 1888 the Berlin Bourse had been seized by a panic at the

excessive amount of Russian securities held by German houses; large

sales took place, and thenceforth it seemed impossible for Russia to

raise money at Berlin or Frankfurt except on very hard terms.

Now was the opportunity for which the French houses had been waiting and

working. In October 1888, Hoskier received an invitation to repair to

St. Petersburg secretly, in order to consider the taking up of a loan of

500,000,000 francs at 4 per cent, to replace war loans contracted in

1877 at 5 per cent. At once he assured the Russian authorities that his

syndicate would accept the offer, and though the German financiers

raged and plotted against him, the loan went to Paris. This was the

beginning of a series of loans launched by Russia at Paris, and so

successfully that by the year 1894 as much as four milliards of francs

(£160,000,000) is said to have been subscribed in that way[267]. Thus

the wealth of France enabled Russia to consolidate her debt on easier

terms, to undertake strategic railways, to build a new navy, and arm her

immense forces with new and improved weapons. It is well known that

Russia could not otherwise have ventured on these and other costly

enterprises; and one cannot but admire the skill which she showed in

making so timely a use of Gallic enthusiasm, as well as the

statesmanlike foresight of the French in piling up these armaments on

the weakest flank of Germany.

[Footnote 267: E. Daudet, _Histoire diplomatique de l'Alliance

franco-russe_, pp. 270-279.]

Meanwhile the Boulangist bubble had burst. After his removal from the

army on the score of insubordination, "le brav' général" entered into

politics, and, to the surprise of all, gained an enormous majority in

the election for a district of Paris (January 1889). It is believed

that, had he rallied his supporters and marched against the Elysée, he

might have overthrown the parliamentary Republic. But, like Robespierre

at the crisis of his career, he did not strike--he discoursed of reason

and moderation. For once the authorities took the initiative; and when

the new Premier, Tirard, took action against him for treason, he fled to

Brussels on the appropriate date of the 1st of April. Thenceforth, the

Royalist-Bonapartist-Radical hybrid, known as Boulangism, ceased to

scare the world; and its challenging snorts died away in sounds which

were finally recognised as convulsive brayings. How far the Slavophils

of Russia had a hand in goading on the creature is not known. Élie de

Cyon, writing at a later date, declared that he all along saw through

and distrusted Boulanger. Disclaimers of this kind were plentiful in the

following years[268].

[Footnote 268: De Cyon, _op. cit._ pp. 394 _et seq._]

After the exposure of that hero of the Boulevards, it was natural that

the Czar should decline to make a binding compact with France; and he

signalised the isolation of Russia by proposing a toast to the Prince of

Montenegro as "the only sincere and faithful friend of Russia."

Nevertheless, the dismissal of Bismarck by William II., in March 1890,

brought about a time of strain and friction between Russia and Germany

which furthered the prospects of a Franco-Russian _entente_. Thenceforth

peace depended on the will of a young autocrat who now and again gave

the impression that he was about to draw the sword for the satisfaction

of his ancestral _manes_. A sharp and long-continued tariff war between

Germany and Russia also embittered the relations between the two Powers.

Rumours of war were widespread in the year 1891. Wild tales were told as

to a secret treaty between Germany and Belgium for procuring a passage

to the Teutonic hosts through that neutralised kingdom, and thus turning

the new eastern fortresses which France had constructed at enormous

cost[269]. Parts of Northern France were to be the reward of King

Leopold's complaisance, and the help of England and Turkey was to be

secured by substantial bribes[270]. The whole scheme wears a look of

amateurish grandiosity; but, on the principle that there is no smoke

without fire (which does not always hold good for diplomatic smoke),

much alarm was felt at Paris. The renewal of the Triple Alliance in June

1891, for a term of six years, was followed up a month later by a visit

of the Emperor William to England, during which he took occasion at the

Guildhall to state his desire "to maintain the historical friendship

between these our two nations" (July 10). Balanced though this assertion

was by an expression of a hope in the peaceful progress of all peoples,

the words sent an imaginative thrill to the banks of the Seine and

the Neva.

[Footnote 269: In the French Chamber of Deputies it was officially

stated in 1893, that in two decades France had spent the sum of

£614,000,000 on her army and the new fortresses, apart from that on

strategic railways and the fleet.]

[Footnote 270: Notovich, _L'Empereur Alexandre III._ ch. viii.]

The outcome of it all was the visit of the French Channel Fleet to

Cronstadt at the close of July; and the French statesman M. Flourens

asserts that the Czar himself took the initiative in this matter[271].

The fleet received an effusive welcome, and, to the surprise of all

Europe, the Emperor visited the flagship of Admiral Gervais and remained

uncovered while the band played the national airs of the two nations.

Few persons ever expected the autocrat of the East to pay that tribute

to the _Marseillaise_. But, in truth, French democracy was then entering

on a new phase at home. Politicians of many shades of opinion had begun

to cloak themselves with "opportunism"--a conveniently vague term, first

employed by Gambetta, but finally used to designate any serviceable

compromise between parliamentary rule, autocracy, and flamboyant

militarism. The Cronstadt _fêtes_ helped on the warping process.

[Footnote 271: L.E. Flourens, _Alexandre III.: sa Vie, son Oeuvre_, p.

319.]

Whether any definite compact was there signed is open to doubt. The

_Times_ correspondent, writing on July 31 from St. Petersburg, stated

that Admiral Gervais had brought with him from Paris a draft of a

convention, which was to be considered and thereafter signed by the

Russian Ministers for Foreign Affairs, War, and the Navy, but not by the

Czar himself until the need for it arose. Probably, then, no alliance

was formed, but military and naval conventions were drawn up to serve as

bases for common action if an emergency should arise. These agreements

were elaborated in conferences held by the Russian generals, Vanoffski

and Obrucheff, with the French generals, Saussier, Miribel, and

Boisdeffre. A Russian loan was soon afterwards floated at Paris amidst

great enthusiasm.

For the present the French had to be satisfied with this exchange of

secret assurances and hard cash. The Czar refused to move further,

mainly because the scandals connected with the Panama affair once more

aroused his fears and disgust. De Cyon states that the degrading

revelations which came to light, at the close of 1891 and early in 1892,

did more than anything to delay the advent of a definite alliance. The

return visit of a Russian squadron to French waters was therefore

postponed to the month of October 1893, when there were wild rejoicings

at Toulon. The Czar and President exchanged telegrams, the former

referring to "the bonds which unite the two countries."

It appeared for a time that Russia meant to keep her squadron in the

Mediterranean; and representations on this subject are known to have

been made by England and Italy, which once again drew close together. A

British squadron visited Italian ports--an event which seemed to

foreshadow the entrance of the Island Power to the Triple Alliance. The

Russian fleet, however, left the Mediterranean, and the diplomatic

situation remained unchanged. Despite all the passionate wooing of the

Gallic race, no contract of marriage took place during the life of

Alexander III. He died on November 1, 1894, and his memory was extolled

in many quarters as that of the great peacemaker of the age.

How far he deserved this praise, to which every statesman of the first

rank laid claim, is matter for doubt. It is certain that he disliked war

on account of the evil results accruing from the Russo-Turkish conflict;

but whether his love of peace rested on grounds other than prudential

will be questioned by those who remember his savage repression of

non-Russian peoples in his Empire, his brutal treatment of the

Bulgarians and of their Prince, his underhand intrigues against Servia

and Roumania, and the favour which he showed to the commander who

violated international law at Panjdeh. That the French should enshrine

his memory in phrases to which their literary skill gives a world-wide

vogue is natural, seeing that he ended their days of isolation and saved

them from the consequences of Boulangism; but it still has to be proved

that, apart from the Schnaebele affair, Germany ever sought a quarrel

with France during the reign of Alexander III.; and it may finally

appear that the Triple Alliance was the genuinely conservative league

which saved Europe from the designs of the restless Republic and the

exacting egotism of Alexander III.

Another explanation of the Franco-Russian _entente_ is fully as tenable

as the theory that the Czar based his policy on the seventh beatitude. A

careful survey of the whole of that policy in Asia, as well as in

Europe, seems to show that he drew near to the Republic in order to

bring about an equilibrium in Europe which would enable him to throw his

whole weight into the affairs of the Far East. Russian policy has

oscillated now towards the West, now towards the East; but old-fashioned

Russians have always deplored entanglement in European affairs, and have

pointed to the more hopeful Orient. Even during the pursuit of

Napoleon's shattered forces in their retreat from Moscow in 1812, the

Russian Commander, Kutusoff, told Sir Robert Wilson that Napoleon's

overthrow would benefit, not the world at large, but only England[272].

He failed to do his utmost, largely because he looked forward to peace

with France and a renewal of the Russian advance on India.

[Footnote 272: _The French Invasion of Russia_, by Sir R. Wilson, p.

234.]

The belief that England was the enemy came to be increasingly held by

leading Russians, especially, of course, after the Crimean War and the

Berlin Congress. Russia's true mission, they said, lay in Asia. There,

among those ill-compacted races, she could easily build up an Empire

that never could be firmly founded on tough, recalcitrant Bulgars or

warlike Turks. The Triple Alliance having closed the door to Russia on

the West, there was the greater temptation to take the other alternative

course--that line of least resistance which led towards Afghanistan and

Manchuria. The value of an understanding with France was now clear to

all. As we have seen, it guarded Russia's exposed frontier in Poland,

and poured into the exchequer treasures which speedily took visible form

in the Siberian railway, as well as the extensions of the lines leading

to Merv and Tashkend.

But this eastern trend of Russian policy can scarcely be called

peaceful. The Panjdeh incident (March 29, 1885) would have led any other

Government than that of Mr. Gladstone to declare war on the aggressor.

Events soon turned the gaze of the Russians towards Manchuria, and the

Franco-Russian agreement enabled them to throw their undivided energies

in that direction (see Chapter XX.). It was French money which enabled

Russia to dominate Manchuria, and, for the time, to overawe Japan. In

short, the Dual Alliance peacefully conducted the Muscovites to

Port Arthur.

* * * * *

The death of Alexander III. in November 1894 brought to power a very

different personality, kindlier and more generous, but lacking the

strength and prudence of the deceased ruler. Nicholas II. had none of

that dislike of Western institutions which haunted his father. The way

was therefore open for a more binding compact with France, the need for

which was emphasised by the events of the years 1894-95 in the Far East.

But the manner in which it came about is still but dimly known. Members

of the House of Orleans are said to have taken part in the overtures,

perhaps with the view of helping on the hypnotising influence which

alliance with the autocracy of the East exerts on the democracy of

the West.

The Franco-Russian _entente_ ripened into an alliance in the year 1895.

So, at least, we may judge from the reference to Russia as "notre allié"

by the Prime Minister, M. Ribot, in the debate of June 10, 1895.

Nicholas II., at the time of his visit to Paris in 1896, proclaimed his

close friendship with the Republic; and during the return visit of

President Faure to Cronstadt and St. Petersburg he gave an even more

significant sign that the two nations were united by something more than

sentiment and what Carlyle would have called the cash-nexus. On board

the French warship _Pothuau_ he referred in his farewell speech to the

"nations amies et alliées" (August 26, 1897).

The treaty has never been made public, but a version of it appeared in

the _Wiener Allgemeine Zeitung_ of September 21, 1901, and in the Paris

paper, _La Liberté_ five days later. Mr. Henry Norman gives the

following summary of the information there unofficially communicated.

After stating that the treaty contains no direct reference to Germany,

he proceeds: "It declares that if either nation is attacked, the other

will come to its assistance with the whole of its military and naval

forces, and that peace shall only be concluded in concert and by

agreement between the two. No other _casus belli_ is mentioned, no term

is fixed to the duration of the treaty, and the whole instrument

consists of only a few clauses[273]."

[Footnote 273: H. Norman, M.P., _All the Russias_, p. 390 (Heinemann,

1902). See the articles on the alliance as it affects Anglo-French

relations by M. de Pressensé in the _Nineteenth Century_ for February

and November 1896; also Mr. Spenser Wilkinson's _The Nation's

Awakening_, ch. v.]

Obviously France and Russia cannot help one another with all their

forces unless the common foe were Germany, or the Triple Alliance as a

whole. In that case alone would such a clause be operative. The pressure

of France and Russia on the flanks of the German Empire would be

terrible; and it is inconceivable that Germany would attack France,

knowing that such action would bring the weight of Russia upon her

weakest frontier. It is, however, conceivable that the three central

allies might deem the strain of an armed peace to be unendurable and

attack France or Russia. To such an attack the Dual Alliance would

oppose about equal forces, though now hampered by the weakening of the

Empire in the Far East.

Another account, also unofficial and discreetly vague, was given to the

world by a diplomatist at the time when the Armenian outrages had for a

time quickened the dull conscience of Christendom[274]. Assuming that

the Sick Man of the East was at the point of death, the anonymous writer

hinted at the profitable results obtainable by the Continental States

if, leaving England out of count, they arranged the Eastern Question _à

l'aimable_ among themselves. The Dual Alliance, he averred, would not

meet the needs of the situation; for it did not contemplate the

partition of Turkey or a general war in the East.

[Footnote 274: _L'Alliance Franco-russe devant la Crise Orientale_, par

un Diplomate étranger. (Paris, Plon. 1897).]

Both parties [France and Russia] have examined the course to

be taken in the case of aggression by one or more members of

the Triple Alliance; an understanding has been arrived at on

the great lines of general policy; but of necessity they did

not go further. If the Russian Government could not undertake

to place its sword at the service of France with a view to a

revision of the Treaty of Frankfurt--a demand, moreover,

which France did not make--it cannot claim that France should

mobilise her forces to permit it to extend its territory in

Europe or in Asia. They know that very well on the banks of

the Neva.

To this interesting statement we may add that France and Russia have

been at variance on the Eastern Question. Thus, when, in order to press

her rightful claims on the Sultan, France determined to coerce him by

the seizure of Mitylene, if need be, the Czar's Government is known to

have discountenanced this drastic proceeding. Speaking generally, it is

open to conjecture whether the Dual Alliance refers to other than

European questions. This may be inferred from the following fact. On the

announcement of the Anglo-Japanese compact early in 1902, by which

England agreed to intervene in the Far Eastern Question if another Power

helped Russia against Japan, the Governments of St. Petersburg and Paris

framed a somewhat similar convention whereby France definitely agreed to

take action if Russia were confronted by Japan and a European or

American Power in these quarters. No such compact would have been needed

if the Franco-Russian alliance had referred to the problems of the

Far East.

Another "disclosure" of the early part of 1904 is also noteworthy. The

Paris _Figaro_ published official documents purporting to prove that

the Czar Nicholas II., on being sounded by the French Government at the

time of the Fashoda incident, declared his readiness to abide by his

engagements in case France took action against Great Britain. The

_Figaro_ used this as an argument in favour of France actively

supporting Russia against Japan, if an appeal came from St. Petersburg.

This contention would now meet with little support in France. The events

of the Russo-Japanese War and the massacre of workmen in St. Petersburg

on January 22, 1905, have visibly strained Franco-Russian relations.

This is seen in the following speech of M. Anatole France on February 1,

1905, with respect to his interview with the Premier, M. Combes:--

At the beginning of this war I had heard it said very vaguely

that there existed between France and Russia firm and fast

engagements, and that, if Russia came to blows with a second

Power, France would have to intervene. I asked M. Combes,

then Prime Minister, whether anything of the kind existed. M.

Combes thought it due to his position not to give a precise

answer; but he declared to me in the clearest way that so

long as he was Minister we need not fear that our sailors and

our soldiers would be sent to Japan. My own opinion is that

this folly is not to be apprehended under any Ministry. (_The

Times_. February 3.)

At present, then, everything tends to show that the Franco-Russian

alliance refers solely to European questions and is merely a defensive

agreement in view of a possible attack from one or more members of the

Triple Alliance. Seeing that the purely defensive character of the

latter has always been emphasised, doubts are very naturally expressed

in many quarters as to the use of these alliances. The only tangible

advantage gained by any one of the five Powers is that Russia has had

greater facilities for raising loans in France and in securing her hold

on Manchuria. On the other hand, Frenchmen complain that the alliance

has entailed an immense financial responsibility, which is dearly bought

by the cessation of those irritating frontier incidents of the

Schnaebele type which they had to put up with from Bismarck in the days

of their isolation[275].

[Footnote 275: See an article by Jules Simon in the _Contemporary

Review_, May 1894.]

Italy also questions the wisdom of her alliance with the Central Powers

which brings no obvious return except in the form of slightly enhanced

consideration from her Latin sister. In cultured circles on both sides

of the Maritime Alps there is a strong feeling that the present

international situation violates racial instincts and tradition; and, as

we have already seen, Italy's attitude towards France is far different

now from what it was in 1882. It is now practically certain that

Italians would not allow the King's Government to fight France in the

interests of the Central Powers. Their feelings are quite natural. What

have Italians in common with Austrians and Prussians? Little more, we

may reply, than French republicans with the subjects of the Czar. In

truth both of these alliances rest, not on whole-hearted regard or

affection, but on fear and on the compulsion which it exerts.

To this fact we may, perhaps, largely attribute the _malaise_ of Europe.

The Greek philosopher Empedocles looked on the world as the product of

two all-pervading forces, love and hate, acting on blind matter: love

brought cognate particles together and held them in union; hate or

repulsion kept asunder the unlike or hostile elements. We may use the

terms of this old cosmogony in reference to existing political

conditions, and assert that these two elemental principles have drawn

Europe apart into two hostile masses; with this difference, that the

allies for the most part are held together, not so much by mutual regard

as by hatred of their opposites. From this somewhat sweeping statement

we must mark off one exception. There were two allies who came together

with the ease which betokens a certain amount of affinity. Thanks to the

statesmanlike moderation of Bismarck after Königgrätz, Austria willingly

entered into a close compact with her former rival. At least that was

the feeling among the Germans and Magyars of the Dual Monarchy. The

Austro-German alliance, it may be predicted, will hold good while the

Dual Monarchy exists in its present form; but even in that case fear of

Russia is the one great binding force where so much else is centrifugal.

If ever the Empire of the Czar should lose its prestige, possibly the

two Central Powers would drift apart.

Although there are signs of weakness in both alliances, they will

doubtless remain standing as long as the need which called them into

being remains. Despite all the efforts made on both sides, the military

and naval resources of the two great leagues are approximately equal. In

one respect, and in one alone, Europe has benefited from these

well-matched efforts. The uneasy truce that has been dignified by the

name of peace since the year 1878 results ultimately from the fact that

war will involve the conflict of enormous citizen armies of nearly

equal strength.

So it has come to this, that in an age when the very conception of

Christendom has vanished, and ideal principles have been well-nigh

crushed out of life by the pressure of material needs, peace again

depends on the once-derided principle of the balance of power. That it

should be so is distressing to all who looked to see mankind win its way

to a higher level of thought on international affairs. The level of

thought in these matters could scarcely be lower than it has been since

the Armenian massacres. The collective conscience of Europe is as torpid

as it was in the eighteenth century, when weak States were crushed or

partitioned, and armed strength came to be the only guarantee of safety.

At the close of this volume we shall glance at some of the influences

which the Tantalus toil of the European nations has exerted on the life

of our age. It is not for nothing that hundreds of millions of men are

ever striving to provide the sinews of war, and that rulers keep those

sinews in a state of tension. The result is felt in all the other organs

of the body politic. Certainly the governing classes of the Continent

must be suffering from atrophy of the humorous instinct if they fail to

note the practical nullity of the efforts which they and their subjects

have long put forth. Perhaps some statistical satirist of the twentieth

century will assess the economy of the process which requires nearly

twelve millions of soldiers for the maintenance of peace in the most

enlightened quarter of the globe.

NOTE TO THE SECOND EDITION

In the _Echo de Paris_ of July 3, 1905, the Comte de Nion published

documents which further prove the importance of the services rendered by

Great Britain to France at the time of the war scare of May 1875. They

confirm the account as given in this chapter, but add a few more

details. See, too, corroborative evidence in the _Times_ for July

4, 1905.

NOTE TO THE THIRD EDITION

It has been stated, apparently on good authority, that the informal

conversations which went on during the Congress of Berlin between the

plenipotentiaries of the Powers (see _ante_, p. 328) furnished Italy

with an assurance that, in the event of France expanding in North

Africa, Italy should find "compensation" in Tripoli. Apparently this

explains her recent action there (October 1911).

CHAPTER XIII

THE CENTRAL ASIAN QUESTION

"The Germans have reached their day, the English their

mid-day, the French their afternoon, the Italians their

evening, the Spanish their night; but the Slavs stand on the

threshold of the morning."--MADAME NOVIKOFF ("O.K.")--_The

Friends and Foes of Russia_.

The years 1879-85 which witnessed the conclusion of the various

questions opened up by the Treaty of Berlin and the formation of the

Triple Alliance mark the end of a momentous period in European history.

The quarter of a century which followed the Franco-Austrian War of 1859

in Northern Italy will always stand out as one of the most momentous

epochs in State-building that the world has ever seen. Italy, Denmark,

Austria-Hungary, Germany, and Turkey, assumed their present form. The

Christians of the Balkan Peninsula made greater strides towards liberty

than they had taken in the previous century. Finally, the new diplomatic

grouping of the Powers helped to endow these changes with a permanence

which was altogether wanting to the fitful efforts of the period

1815-59. That earlier period was one of feverish impulse and picturesque

failure; the two later decades were characterised by stern organisation

and prosaic success.

It generally happens to nations as to individuals that a period devoted

to recovery from internal disorders is followed by a time of great

productive and expansive power. The introspective epoch gives place to

one of practical achievement. Faust gives up his barren speculations

and feels his way from thought to action. From "In the beginning was the

Word" he wins his way onward through "the Thought" and "the Might,"

until he rewrites the dictum "In the beginning was the Deed." That is

the change which came over Germany and Europe in the years 1850-80. The

age of the theorisers of the _Vor-Parlament_ at Frankfurt gave place to

the age of Bismarck. The ideals of Mazzini paled in the garish noonday

of the monarchical triumph at Rome.

Alas! too, the age of great achievement, that of the years 1859-85,

makes way for a period characterised by satiety, torpor, and an

indefinable _malaise_. Europe rests from the generous struggles of the

past, and settles down uneasily into a time of veiled hostility and

armed peace. Having framed their State systems and covering alliances,

the nations no longer give heed to constitutions, rights of man, or

duties of man; they plunge into commercialism, and search for new

markets. Their attitude now is that of Ancient Pistol when he exclaims

"The world's mine oyster,

Which I with sword will open."

In Europe itself there is little to chronicle in the years 1885-1900,

which are singularly dull in regard to political achievement. No popular

movement (not even those of the distressed Cretans and Armenians) has

aroused enough sympathy to bring it to the goal. The reason for this

fact seems to be that the human race, like the individual, is subject to

certain alternating moods which may be termed the enthusiastic and the

practical; and that, during the latter phase, the material needs of life

are so far exalted at the expense of the higher impulses that small

struggling communities receive not a tithe of the sympathy which they

would have aroused in more generous times.

The fact need not beget despair. On the contrary, it should inspire the

belief that, when the fit passes away, the healthier, nobler mood will

once more come; and then the world will pulsate with new life, making

wholesome use of the wealth previously stored up but not assimilated. It

is significant that Gervinus, writing in 1853, spoke of that epoch as

showing signs of disenchantment and exhaustion in the political sphere.

In reality he was but six years removed from the beginning of an age of

constructive activity the like of which has never been seen.

Further, we may point out that the ebb in the tide of human affairs

which set in about the year 1885 was due to specific causes operating

with varied force on different peoples. First in point of time, at the

close of the year 1879, came the decision of Bismarck and of the German

Reichstag to abandon the cause of Free Trade in favour of a narrow

commercial nationalism. Next came the murder of the Czar Alexander II.

(March 1881), and the grinding down of the reformers and of all alien

elements by his stern successor. Thus, the national impulse, which had

helped on that of democracy in the previous generation, now lent its

strength to the cause of economic, religious, and political reaction in

the two greatest of European States.

In other lands that vital force frittered itself away in the frothy

rhetoric of Déroulède and the futile prancings of Boulanger, in the

gibberings of _Italia Irredenta_, or in the noisy obstruction of Czechs

and Parnellites in the Parliaments of Vienna and London. Everything

proclaimed that the national principle had spent its force and could now

merely turn and wobble until it came to rest.

A curious series of events also served to discredit the party of

progress in the constitutional States. Italian politics during the

ascendancy of Depretis, Mancini, and Crispi became on the one side a

mere scramble for power, on the other a nervous edging away from the

gulf of bankruptcy ever yawning in front. France, too, was slow to

habituate herself to parliamentary institutions, and her history in the

years 1887 to 1893 is largely that of a succession of political scandals

and screechy recriminations, from the time of the Grévy-Wilson affair to

the loathsome end of the Panama Company. In the United Kingdom the

wheels of progress lurched along heavily after the year 1886, when

Gladstone made his sudden strategic turn towards the following of

Parnell. Thus it came about that the parties of progress found

themselves almost helpless or even discredited; and the young giant of

Democracy suddenly stooped and shrivelled as if with premature decay.

The causes of this seeming paralysis were not merely political and

dynamic: they were also ethical. The fervour of religious faith was

waning under the breath of a remorseless criticism and dogmatic

materialism. Already, under their influence, the teachers of the earlier

age, Carlyle, Tennyson, and Browning, had lost their joyousness and

spontaneity; and the characteristic thinkers of the new age were chiefly

remarkable for the arid formalism with which they preached the gospel of

salvation for the strong and damnation to the weak. The results of the

new creed were not long in showing themselves in the political sphere.

If the survival of the fittest were the last word of philosophy, where

was the need to struggle on behalf of the weak and oppressed? In that

case, it might be better to leave them to the following clutch of the

new scientific devil; while those who had charged through to the head of

the rout enjoyed themselves with utmost abandon. Such was, and is, the

deduction from the new gospel (crude enough, doubtless, in many

respects), which has finally petrified in the lordly egotism of Nietzche

and in the unlovely outlines of one or two up-to-date Utopias.

These fashions will have their day. Meanwhile it is the duty of the

historian to note that self-sacrifice and heroism have a hard struggle

for life in an age which for a time exalted Herbert Spencer to the

highest pinnacle of greatness, which still riots in the calculating

selfishness of Nietzsche and raves about Omar Khayyám.

Seeing, then, that the last fifteen years of the nineteenth century in

Europe were almost barren of great formative movements such as had

ennobled the previous decades, we may well leave that over-governed,

over-drilled continent weltering in its riches and discontent, its

militarism and moral weakness, in order to survey events further afield

which carried on the State-building process to lands as yet chaotic or

ill-organised. There, at least, we may chronicle some advance, hampered

though it has been by the moral languor or laxity that has warped the

action of Europeans in their new spheres.

The transference of human interest from European history to that of Asia

and Africa is certainly one of the distinguishing features of the years

in question. The scene of great events shifts from the Rhine and the

Danube to the Oxus and the Nile. The affairs of Rome, Alsace, and

Bulgaria being settled for the present, the passions of great nations

centre on Herat and Candahar, Alexandria and Khartum, the Cameroons,

Zanzibar, and Johannesburg, Port Arthur and Korea. The United States,

after recovering from the Civil War and completing their work of

internal development, enter the lists as a colonising Power, and drive

forth Spain from two of her historic possessions. Strife becomes keen

over the islands of the Pacific. Australia seeks to lay hands on New

Guinea, and the European Powers enter into hot discussions over

Madagascar, the Carolines, Samoa, and many other isles.

In short, these years saw a repetition of the colonial strifes that

marked the latter half of the eighteenth century. Just as Europe, after

solving the questions arising out of the religious wars, betook itself

to marketing in the waste lands over the seas, so too, when the impulses

arising from the incoming of the principles of democracy and nationality

had worn themselves out, the commercial and colonial motive again came

uppermost. And, as in the eighteenth century, so too after 1880 there

was at hand an economic incentive spurring on the Powers to annexation

of new lands. France had recurred to protective tariffs in 1870.

Germany, under Bismarck, followed suit ten years later; and all the

continental Powers in turn, oppressed by armaments and girt around with

hostile tariffs, turned instinctively to the unclaimed territories

oversea as life-saving annexes for their own overstocked

industrial centres.

* * * * *

It will be convenient to begin the recital of extra-European events by

considering the expansion of Russia and Great Britain in Central Asia.

There, it is true, the commercial motive is less prominent than that of

political rivalry; and the foregoing remarks apply rather to the recent

history of Africa than to that of Central Asia. But, as the plan of this

work is to some extent chronological, it seems better to deal first with

events which had their beginning further back than those which relate to

the partition of Africa.

The two great colonising and conquering movements of recent times are

those which have proceeded from London and Moscow as starting-points. In

comparison with them the story of the enterprise of the Portuguese and

Dutch has little more than the interest that clings around an almost

vanished past. The halo of romance that hovers over the exploits of

Spaniards in the New World has all but faded away. Even the more solid

achievements of the gallant sons of France in a later age are of small

account when compared with the five mighty commonwealths that bear

witness to the strength of the English stock and the adaptability of its

institutions, or with the portentous growth of the Russian Empire

in Asia.

The methods of expansion of these two great colonial Empires are

curiously different; and students of Ancient History will recall a

similar contrast in the story of the expansion of the Greek and Latin

races. The colonial Empire of England has been sown broadcast over the

seas by adventurous sailors, the freshness and spontaneity of whose

actions recall corresponding traits in the maritime life of Athens.

Nursed by the sea, and filled with the love of enterprise and freedom

which that element inspires, both peoples sought wider spheres for their

commerce, and homes more spacious and wealthy than their narrow cradles

offered; but, above all, they longed to found a microcosm of Athens or

England, with as little control from the mother-land as might be.

The Russian Empire, on the other hand, somewhat resembles that of Rome

in its steady, persistent extension of land boundaries by military and

governmental methods. The Czars, like the Consuls and Emperors of Rome,

set to work with a definite purpose, and brought to bear on the

shifting, restless tribes beyond their borders the pressure of an

unchanging policy and of a well-organised administration. Both States

relied on discipline and civilisation to overcome animal strength and

barbarism; and what they won by the sword, they kept by means of a good

system of roads and by military colonies. In brief, while Ancient Greece

and Modern England worked through sailors and traders, Rome and Russia

worked through soldiers, road-makers, and proconsuls. The Sea Powers

trusted mainly to individual initiative and civic freedom; the Land

Powers founded their empires on organisation and order. The dominion of

the former was sporadic and easily dissolvable; that of the latter was

solid, and liable to be destroyed only by some mighty cataclysm. The

contrast between them is as old and ineffaceable as that which subsists

between the restless sea and the unchanging plain.

While the comparison between England and Athens is incomplete, and at

some points fallacious, that between the Czars and the Cæsars is in many

ways curiously close and suggestive. As soon as the Roman eagles soared

beyond the mighty ring of the Alps and perched securely on the slopes of

Gaul and Rhætia, the great Republic had the military advantage of

holding the central position as against the mutually hostile tribes of

Western, Central, and Eastern Europe. Thanks to that advantage, to her

organisation, and to her military colonies, she pushed forward an

ever-widening girdle of empire, finally conferring the blessings of the

_pax Romana_ on districts as far remote as the Tyne, the Lower Rhine and

Danube, the Caucasus, and the Pillars of Hercules.

Russia also has used to the full the advantages conferred by a central

position, an inflexible policy, and a military-agrarian system well

adapted to the needs of the nomadic peoples on her borders. In the

fifteenth century, her polity emerged victorious from the long struggle

with the Golden Horde of Tartars [I keep the usual spelling, though

"Tatars" is the correct form]; and, as the barbarous Mongolians lost

their hold on the districts of the middle Volga, the power of the Czars

began its forward march, pressing back Asiatics on the East and Poles on

the West. In 1556, Ivan the Terrible seized Astrakan at the mouth of the

Volga, and victoriously held Russia's natural frontiers on the East, the

Ural Mountains, and the northern shore of the Caspian Sea. We shall deal

in a later chapter with her conquest of Siberia, and need only note here

that Muscovite pioneers reached the shores of the Northern Pacific as

early as the year 1636.

Russia's conquests at the expense of Turks, Circassians, and Persians is

a subject alien to this narrative; and the tragic story of the overthrow

of Poland at the hand of the three partitioning Powers, Russia, Prussia,

and Austria, does not concern us here.

It is, however, needful to observe the means by which she was able to

survive the dire perils of her early youth and to develop the colonising

and conquering agencies of her maturer years. They may be summed up in

the single word, "Cossacks."

The Cossacks are often spoken of as though they were a race. They are

not; they are bands or communities, partly military, partly nomadic or

agricultural, as the case may be. They can be traced back to bands of

outlaws who in the time of Russia's weakness roamed about on the verge

of her settlements, plundering indifferently their Slavonic kinsmen, or

the Tartars and Turks farther south. They were the "men of the plain,"

who had fled from the villages of the Slavs, or (in fewer cases) from

the caravans of the Tartars, owing to private feuds, or from love of a

freer and more lucrative life than that of the village or the

encampment. In this debatable land their numbers increased until, Slavs

though they mainly were, they became a menace to the growing power of

the Czars. Ivan the Terrible sent expeditions against them, transplanted

many of their number, and compelled those who remained in the space

between the rivers Don and Ural to submit to his authority, and to give

military service in time of war in return for rights of pasturage and

tillage in the districts thenceforth recognised as their own. Some of

them transferred their energies to Asia; and it was a Cossack outlaw,

Jermak, who conquered a great part of Siberia. The Russian pioneers, who

early penetrated into Siberia or Turkestan, found it possible at a later

time to use these children of the plain as a kind of protective belt

against the warlike natives. The same use was made of them in the South

against Turks. Catharine II. broke the power of the "Zaporoghians"

(Cossacks of the Dnieper), and settled large numbers of them on the

River Kuban to fight the Circassians.

In short, out of the driftwood and wreckage of their primitive social

system the Russians framed a bulwark against the swirling currents of

the nomad world outside. In some respects the Cossacks resemble the

roving bands of Saxons and Franks who pushed forward roughly but

ceaselessly the boundaries of the Teutonic race[276]. But, whereas those

offshoots soon came to have a life of their own, apart from the parent

stems, Russia, on the other hand, has known how to keep a hold on her

boisterous youth, turning their predatory instincts against her worst

neighbours, and using them as hardy irregulars in her wars.

[Footnote 276: See Cæsar, _Gallic War_, bk. vi., for an account of the

formation, at the tribal meeting, of a roving band.]

Considering the number of times that the Russian Government crushed the

Cossack revolts, broke up their self-made organisation, and transplanted

unruly bands to distant parts, their almost invariable loyalty to the

central authority is very remarkable. It may be ascribed either to the

veneration which they felt for the Czar, to the racial sentiment which

dwells within the breast of nearly every Slav, or to their proximity to

alien peoples whom they hated as Mohammedans or despised as godless

pagans. In any case, the Russian autocracy gained untold advantages from

the Cossack fringe on the confines of the Empire.

Some faint conception of the magnitude of that gain may be formed, if,

by way of contrast, we try to picture the Teutonic peoples always acting

together, even through their distant offshoots; or, again, if by a

flight of fancy we can imagine the British Government making a wise use

of its old soldiers and the flotsam and jetsam of our cities for the

formation of semi-military colonies on the most exposed frontiers of the

Empire. That which our senators have done only in the case of the

Grahamstown experiment of 1819, Russia has done persistently and

successfully with materials far less promising--a triumph of

organisation for which she has received scant credit.

The roving Cossacks have become practically a mounted militia, highly

mobile in peace and in war. Free from taxes, and enjoying certain

agrarian or pastoral rights in the district which they protect, their

position in the State is fully assured. At times the ordinary Russian

settlers are turned into Cossacks. Either by that means, or by migration

from Russia, or by a process of accretion from among the conquered

nomads, their ranks are easily recruited; and the readiness with which

Tartars and Turkomans are absorbed into this cheap and effective militia

has helped to strengthen Russia alike in peace and war. The source of

strength open to her on this side of her social system did not escape

the notice of Napoleon--witness his famous remark that within fifty

years Europe would be either Republican or Cossack[277].

[Footnote 277: For the Cossacks, see D.M. Wallace's _Russia_, vol. ii.

pp. 80-95; and Vladimir's _Russia on the Pacific_, pp. 46-49. The former

points out that their once democratic organisation has vanished under

the autocracy; and that their officers, appointed by the Czar, own most

of the land, formerly held in common.]

The firm organisation which Central Europe gained under the French

Emperor's hammer-like blows served to falsify the prophecy; and the

stream of Russian conquest, dammed up on the west by the

newly-consolidated strength of Prussia and Austria, set strongly towards

Asia. Pride at her overthrow of the great conqueror in 1812 had

quickened the national consciousness of Russia; and besides this

praiseworthy motive there was another perhaps equally potent, namely,

the covetousness of her ruling class. The Memoirs written by her

bureaucrats and generals reveal the extravagance, dissipation, and

luxury of the Court circles. Fashionable society had as its main

characteristic a barbaric and ostentatious extravagance, alike in

gambling and feasting, in the festivals of the Court or in the scarcely

veiled debauchery of its devotees. Baron Löwenstern, who moved in its

higher ranks, tells of cases of a license almost incredible to those who

have not pried among the garbage of the Court of Catharine II. This

recklessness, resulting from the tendency of the Muscovite nature, as of

the Muscovite climate, to indulge in extremes, begot an imperious need

of large supplies of money; and, ground down as were the serfs on the

broad domains of the nobles, the resulting revenues were all too scanty

to fill up the financial void created by the urgent needs of St.

Petersburg, Gatchina, or Monte Carlo. Larger domains had to be won in

order to outvie rivals or stave off bankruptcy; and these new domains

could most easily come by foreign conquest.

For an analogous reason, the State itself suffered from land hunger. Its

public service was no less corrupt than inefficient. Large sums

frequently vanished, no one knew whither; but one infallible cure for

bankruptcy was always at hand, namely, conquests over Poles, Turks,

Circassians, or Tartars. To this Catharine II. had looked when she

instituted the vicious practice of paying the nobles for their services

at Court; and during her long career of conquest she greatly developed

the old Muscovite system of meeting the costs of war out of the domains

of the vanquished, besides richly dowering the Crown, and her generals

and favoured courtiers. One of the Russian Ministers, referring to the

notorious fact that his Government made war for the sake of booty as

well as glory, said to a Frenchman, "We have remained somewhat Asiatic

in that respect[278]." It is not always that a Minister reveals so

frankly the motives that help to mould the policy of a great State.

[Footnote 278: Quoted by Vandal, _Napoléon I. et Alexandre,_ vol. i. p.

136.]

The predatory instinct, once acquired, does not readily pass away.

Alexander I. gratified it by forays in Circassia, even at the time when

he was face to face with the might of the great Napoleon; and after the

fall of the latter, Russia pushed on her confines in Georgia until they

touched those of Persia. Under Nicholas I. little territory was added

except the Kuban coast on the Black Sea, Erivan to the south of Georgia,

and part of the Kirghiz lands in Turkestan.

The reason for this quiescence was that almost up to the verge of the

Crimean War Nicholas hoped to come to an understanding with England

respecting an eventual partition of the Turkish Empire, Austria also

gaining a share of the spoils. With the aim of baiting these proposals,

he offered, during his visit to London in 1844, to refrain from any

movement against the Khanates of Central Asia, concerning which British

susceptibilities were becoming keen. His Chancellor, Count Nesselrode,

embodied these proposals in an important Memorandum, containing a

promise that Russia would leave the Khanates of Turkestan as a neutral

zone in order to keep the Russian and British possessions in Asia "from

dangerous contact[279]."

[Footnote 279: Quoted on p. 14 of _A Diplomatic Study on the Crimean

War,_ issued by the Russian Foreign Office, and attributed to Baron

Jomini (Russian edition, 1879; English edition, 1882).]

For reasons which we need not detail, British Ministers rejected these

overtures, and by degrees England entered upon the task of defending the

Sultan's dominions, largely on the assumption that they formed a

necessary bulwark of her Indian Empire. It is not our purpose to

criticise British policy at that time. We merely call attention to the

fact that there seemed to be a prospect of a friendly understanding with

Russia respecting Turkey, Asia Minor, Egypt, and Central Asia; and that

the British Government decided to maintain the integrity of Turkey by

attacking the Power which seemed about to impugn it. As a result, Turkey

secured a new lease of life by the Crimean War, while Alexander II.

deemed himself entirely free to press on Asiatic conquests from which

his father had refrained. Thus, the two great expanding Powers entered

anew on that course of rivalry in Asia which has never ceased, and which

forms to-day the sole barrier to a good understanding between them.

After the Crimean War circumstances favoured the advance of the Russian

arms. England, busied with the Sepoy Mutiny in India, cared little what

became of the rival Khans of Turkestan; and Lord Lawrence,

Governor-General of India in 1863-69, enunciated the soothing doctrine

that "Russia might prove a safer neighbour than the wild tribes of

Central Asia." The Czar's emissaries therefore had easy work in

fomenting the strifes that constantly arose in Bokhara, Khiva, and

Tashkend, with the result that in 1864 the last-named was easily

acquired by Russia. We may add here that Tashkend is now an important

railway centre in the Russian Central Asian line, and that large stores

of food and material are there accumulated, which may be utilised in

case Russia makes a move against Afghanistan or Northern India.

In 1868 an outbreak of Mohammedan fanaticism in Bokhara brought the

Ameer of that town into collision with the Russians, who thereupon

succeeded in taking Samarcand. The capital of the empire of Tamerlane,

"the scourge of Asia," now sank to the level of an outpost of Russian

power, and ultimately to that of a mart for cotton. The Khan of Bokhara

fell into a position of complete subservience, and ceded to the

conquerors the whole of his province of Samarcand[280].

[Footnote 280: For an account of Samarcand and Bokhara, see _Russia in

Central Asia,_ by Hon. G. (Lord) Curzon (1889); A. Vambéry's _Travels in

Central Asia_ (1867-68); Rev. H. Lansdell, _Russian Central Asia,_ 2

vols. (1885); E. Schuyler, _Journey in Russian Turkestan,_ etc., 2 vols.

(1876); E. O'Donovan, _The Merv Oasis,_ 2 vols. (1883).]

It is believed that the annexation of Samarcand was contrary to the

intentions of the Czar. Alexander II. was a friend of peace; and he had

no desire to push forward his frontiers to the verge of Afghanistan,

where friction would probably ensue with the British Government. Already

he had sought to allay the irritation prevalent in Russophobe circles in

England. In November 1864, his Chancellor, Prince Gortchakoff, issued a

circular setting forth the causes that impelled the Russians on their

forward march. It was impossible, he said, to keep peace with

uncivilised and predatory tribes on their frontiers. Russia must press

on until she came into touch with a State whose authority would

guarantee order on the boundaries. The argument was a strong one; and it

may readily be granted that good government, civilisation, and commerce

have benefited by the extension of the _pax Russica_ over the

slave-hunting Turkomans and the inert tribes of Siberia.

Nevertheless, as Gortchakoff's circular expressed the intention of

refraining from conquest for the sake of conquest, the irritation in

England became very great when the conquest of Tashkend, and thereafter

of Samarcand, was ascribed, apparently on good grounds, to the ambition

of the Russian commanders, Tchernaieff and Kaufmann respectively. On the

news of the capture of Samarcand reaching London, the Russian ambassador

hastened to assure the British Cabinet that his master did not intend to

retain his conquest. Nevertheless, it was retained. The doctrine of

political necessity proved to be as expansive as Russia's boundaries;

and, after the rapid growth of the Indian Empire under Lord Dalhousie,

the British Government could not deny the force of the plea.

This mighty stride forward brought Russia to the northern bounds of

Afghanistan, a land which was thenceforth to be the central knot of

diplomatic problems of vast magnitude. It will therefore be well, in

beginning our survey of a question which was to test the efficacy of

autocracy and democracy in international affairs, to gain some notion

of the physical and political conditions of the life of that people.

As generally happens in a mountainous region in the midst of a great

continent, their country exhibits various strata of conquest and

settlement. The northern district, sloping towards Turkestan, is

inhabited mainly by Turkomans who have not yet given up their roving

habits. The rugged hill country bordering on the Punjab is held by

Pathans and Ghilzais, who are said by some to be of the same stock as

the Afghans. On the other hand, a well-marked local legend identifies

the Afghans proper with the lost ten tribes of Israel; and those who

love to speculate on that elusive and delusive subject may long use

their ingenuity in speculating whether the oft-quoted text as to the

chosen people possessing the gates of their enemies is more applicable

to the sea-faring and sea-holding Anglo-Saxons or to the

pass-holding Afghans.

That elevated plateau, ridged with lofty mountains and furrowed with

long clefts, has seen Turkomans, Persians, and many other races sweep

over it; and the mixture of these and other races, perhaps including

errant Hebrews, has there acquired the sturdiness, tenacity, and

clannishness that mark the fragments of three nations clustering

together in the Alpine valleys; while it retains the turbulence and

fierceness of a full-blooded Asiatic stock. The Afghan problem is

complicated by these local differences and rivalries; the north cohering

with the Turkomans, Herat and the west having many affinities and

interests in common with Persia, Candahar being influenced by

Baluchistan, while the hill tribes of the north-east bristle with local

peculiarities and aboriginal savagery. These districts can be welded

together only by the will of a great ruler or in the white heat of

religious fanaticism; and while Moslem fury sometimes unites all the

Afghan clans, the Moslem marriage customs result fully as often in a

superfluity of royal heirs, which gives rein to all the forces that make

for disruption. Afghanistan is a hornet's nest; and yet, as we shall see

presently, owing to geographical and strategical reasons, it cannot be

left severely alone. The people are to the last degree clannish; and

nothing but the grinding pressure of two mighty Empires has endowed them

with political solidarity.

It is not surprising that British statesmen long sought to avoid all

responsibility for the internal affairs of such a land. As we have seen,

the theory which found favour with Lord Lawrence was that of intervening

as little as possible in the affairs of States bordering on India, a

policy which was termed "masterly inactivity" by the late Mr. J.W.S.

Wyllie. It was the outcome of the experience gained in the years

1839-42, when, after alienating Dost Mohammed, the Ameer of Afghanistan,

by its coolness, the Indian Government rushed to the other extreme and

invaded the country in order to tear him from the arms of the more

effusive Russians.

The results are well known. Overweening confidence and military

incapacity finally led to the worst disaster that befell a British army

during the nineteenth century, only one officer escaping from among the

4500 troops and 12,000 camp followers who sought to cut their way back

through the Khyber Pass[281]. A policy of non-intervention in the

affairs of so fickle and savage a people naturally ensued, and was

stoutly maintained by Lords Canning, Elgin, and Lawrence, who held sway

during and after the great storm of the Indian Mutiny. The worth of that

theory of conduct came to be tested in 1863, on the occasion of the

death of Dost Mohammed, who had latterly recovered Herat from Persia,

and brought nearly the whole of the Afghan clans under his sway. He had

been our friend during the Mutiny, when his hostility might readily have

turned the wavering scales of war; and he looked for some tangible

return for his loyal behaviour in preventing the attempt of some of his

restless tribesmen to recover the once Afghan city of Peshawur.

[Footnote 281: Sir J.W. Kaye, _History of the War in Afghanistan_, 5

vols. (1851-78).]

To his surprise and disgust he met with no return whatever, even in a

matter which most nearly concerned his dynasty and the future of

Afghanistan. As generally happens with Moslem rulers, the aged Ameer

occupied his declining days with seeking to provide against the troubles

that naturally resulted from the oriental profusion of his marriages.

Dost Mohammed's quiver was blessed with the patriarchal equipment of

sixteen sons--most of them stalwart, warlike, and ambitious. Eleven of

them limited their desires to parts of Afghanistan, but five of them

aspired to rule over all the tribes that go to make up that seething

medley. Of these, Shere Ali was the third in age but the first in

capacity, if not in prowess. Moreover, he was the favourite son of Dost

Mohammed; but where rival mothers and rival tribes were concerned, none

could foresee the issue of the pending conflict[282].

[Footnote 282: G.B. Malleson, _History of Afghanistan_, p. 421.]

Dost Mohammed sought to avert it by gaining the effective support of the

Indian Government for his Benjamin. He pleaded in vain. Lord Canning,

Governor-General of India at the time of the Mutiny, recognised Shere

Ali as heir-apparent, but declined to give any promise of support either

in arms or money. Even after the Mutiny was crushed, Lord Canning and

his successor, Lord Elgin, adhered to the former decision, refusing even

a grant of money and rifles for which father and son pleaded.

As we have said, Dost Mohammed died in 1863; but even when Shere Ali was

face to face with formidable family schisms and a widespread revolt,

Lord Lawrence clung to the policy of recognising only "_de facto_

Powers," that is, Powers which actually existed and could assert their

authority. All that he offered was to receive Shere Ali in conference,

and give him good advice; but he would only recognise him as Ameer of

Afghanistan if he could prevail over his brothers and their tribesmen.

He summed it up in this official letter of April 17, 1866, sent to the

Governor of the Punjab:--

It should be our policy to show clearly that we will not interfere in

the struggle, that we will not aid either party, that we will leave the

Afghans to settle their own quarrels, and that we are willing to be on

terms of amity and good-will with the nation and with their rulers _de

facto_. Suitable opportunities can be taken to declare that these are

the principles which will guide our policy; and it is the belief of the

Governor-General that such a policy will in the end be appreciated[283].

[Footnote 283: Parl. Papers, Afghanistan, No. 1 (1878), p. 10. For a

defence of this policy of "masterly inactivity," see Mr. Bosworth

Smith's _Life of Lord Lawrence_, vol. ii. pp. 570-590; also Mr. J.W.S.

Wyllie's _Essays on the External Policy of India_.]

The Afghans did not appreciate it. Shere All protested that it placed a

premium on revolt; he also complained that the Viceroy not only gave him

no help, but even recognised his rival, Ufzul, when the latter captured

Cabul. After the death of Ufzul and the assumption of authority at Cabul

by a third brother, Azam, Shere Ali by a sudden and desperate attempt

drove his rival from Cabul (September 8, 1868) and practically ended the

schisms and strifes which for five years had rent Afghanistan in twain.

Then, but then only, did Lord Lawrence consent to recognise him as Ameer

of the whole land, and furnish him with £60,000 and a supply of arms. An

act which, five years before, would probably have ensured the speedy

triumph of Shere Ali and his lasting gratitude to Great Britain, now

laid him under no sense of obligation[284]. He might have replied to

Lord Lawrence with the ironical question with which Dr. Johnson declined

Lord Chesterfield's belated offer of patronage: "Is not a patron, my

lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the

water, and, when he has reached ground, encumbers him with help?"

[Footnote 284: The late Duke of Argyll in his _Eastern Question_ (vol.

ii. p. 42) cited the fact of this offer of money and arms as a proof

that Lord Lawrence was not wedded to the theory of "masterly

inactivity," and stated that the gift helped Shere Ali to complete his

success. It is clear, however, that Lord Lawrence waited to see whether

that success was well assured before the offer was made.

The Duke of Argyll proves one thing, that the action of Lord Lawrence in

September 1868 was not due to Sir Henry Rawlinson's despatch from London

(dated July 20, 1868) in favour of more vigorous action. It was due to

Lawrence's perception of the change brought about by Russian action in

the Khanate of Bokhara, near the Afghan border.]

Moreover, there is every reason to think that Shere Ali, with the

proneness of orientals to refer all actions to the most elemental

motives, attributed the change of front at Calcutta solely to fear. That

was the time when the Russian capture of Samarcand cowed the Khan of

Bokhara and sent a thrill through Central Asia. In the political

psychology of the Afghans, the tardy arrival at Cabul of presents from

India argued little friendship for Shere Ali, but great dread of the

conquering Muscovites.

Such, then, was the policy of "masterly inactivity" in 1863-68, cheap

for India, but excessively costly for Afghanistan. Lord Lawrence

rendered incalculable services to India before and during the course of

the Mutiny, but his conduct towards Shere Ali is certainly open to

criticism. The late Duke of Argyll, Secretary of State for India in the

Gladstone Ministry (1868-74), supported it in his work, _The Eastern

Question,_ on the ground that the Anglo-Afghan treaty of 1855 pledged

the British not to interfere in the affairs of Afghanistan[285]. But

uncalled for interference is one thing; to refuse even a slight measure

of help to an ally, who begs it as a return for most valuable services,

is quite another thing.

[Footnote 285: The Duke of Argyll, _op. cit._ vol. ii. p. 226 (London,

1879). For the treaty, see Parl. Papers, Afghanistan, No. 1 (1878),

p. 1.]

Moreover, the Viceroy himself was brought by the stern logic of events

implicitly to give up his policy. In one of his last official

despatches, written on January 4, 1869, he recognised the gain to Russia

that must accrue from our adherence to a merely passive policy in

Central Asian affairs. He suggested that we should come to a "clear

understanding with the Court of St. Petersburg as to its projects and

designs in Central Asia, and that it might be given to understand in

firm but courteous language, that it cannot be permitted to interfere in

the affairs of Afghanistan, or in those of any State which lies

contiguous to our frontier."

This sentence tacitly implied a change of front; for any prohibition to

Russia to interfere in the affairs of Afghanistan virtually involved

Britain's claim to exercise some degree of suzerainty in that land. The

way therefore seemed open for a new departure, especially as the new

Governor-General, Lord Mayo, was thought to favour the more vigorous

ideas latterly prevalent at Westminster. But when Shere Ali met the new

Viceroy in a splendid Durbar at Umballa (March 1869) and formulated his

requests for effective British support, in case of need, they were, in

the main, refused[286].

[Footnote 286: Sir W.W. Hunter, _The Earl of Mayo_, p. 125 (Oxford,

1891); the Duke of Argyll, _op. cit._ vol. ii, p. 252.]

We may here use the words in which the late Duke of Argyll summed up the

wishes of the Ameer and the replies of Lord Mayo:--

He (the Ameer) wanted to have an unconditional treaty, offensive and

defensive. He wanted to have a fixed subsidy. He wanted to have a

dynastic guarantee. He would have liked sometimes to get the loan of

English officers to drill his troops, or to construct his

forts--provided they retired the moment they had done this work for him.

On the other hand, officers "resident" in his country as political

agents of the British Government were his abhorrence.

Lord Mayo's replies, or pledges, were virtually as follows:--

The first pledge (says the Duke of Argyll) was that of non-interference

in his (the Ameer's) affairs. The second pledge was that "we would

support his independence." The third pledge was "that we would not force

European officers, or residents, upon him against his wish[287]."

[Footnote 287: Argyll, _op. cit._ vol. i. Preface, pp. xxiii.-xxvi.]

There seems to have been no hopeless contrariety between the views of

the Ameer and the Viceroy save in one matter that will be noted

presently. It is also of interest to learn from the Duke's narrative,

which claims to be official in substance, however partisan it may be in

form, that there was no difference of opinion on this important subject

between Lord Mayo and the Gladstone Ministry, which came to power

shortly after his departure for India. The new Viceroy summed up his

views in the following sentence, written to the Duke of Argyll: "The

safe course lies in watchfulness, and friendly intercourse with

neighbouring tribes."

Apparently, then, there was a fair chance of arriving at an agreement

with the Ameer. But the understanding broke down on the question of the

amount of support to be accorded to Shere Ali's dynasty. That ruler

wished for an important modification of the Anglo-Afghan treaty of 1855,

which had bound his father to close friendship with the old Company

without binding the Company to intervene in his favour. That, said Shere

Ali, was a "dry friendship." He wanted a friendship more fruitful than

that of the years 1863-67, and a direct support to his dynasty whenever

he claimed it. The utmost concession that Lord Mayo would grant was that

the British Government would "view with severe displeasure any attempt

to disturb your position as Ruler of Cabul, and rekindle civil

war[288]."

[Footnote 288: Argyll, _op. cit._ vol. ii. p. 263.]

It seems that Shere Ali thought lightly of Britain's "displeasure," for

he departed ill at ease. Not even the occasional presents of money and

weapons that found their way from Calcutta to Cabul could thenceforth

keep his thoughts from turning northwards towards Russia. At Umballa he

had said little about that Power; and the Viceroy had very wisely

repressed any feelings of anxiety that he may have had on that score.

Possibly the strength and cheeriness of Lord Mayo's personality would

have helped to assuage the Ameer's wounded feelings; but that genial

Irishman fell under the dagger of a fanatic during a tour in the Andaman

Islands (February 1872). His death was a serious event. Shere Ali

cherished towards him feelings which he did not extend to his successor,

Lord Northbrook (1872-76).

Yet, during that vice-royalty, the diplomatic action of Great Britain

secured for the Ameer the recognition of his claims over the northern

part of Afghanistan, as far as the banks of the Upper Oxus. In the

years 1870-72 Russia stoutly contested those claims, but finally

withdrew them, the Emperor declaring at the close of the latter year

"that such a question should not be a cause of difference between the

two countries, and he was determined it should not be so." It is further

noteworthy that Russian official communications more than once referred

to the Ameer of Afghanistan as being "under the protection of the Indian

Government[289]".

[Footnote 289: Argyll, _op. cit._ vol. ii. pp. 289, 292. For the Czar's

assurance that "extension of territory" was "extension of weakness," see

Parl. Papers, Afghanistan, No. 1 (1878), p. 101.]

These signal services of British diplomacy counted for little at Cabul

in comparison with the question of the dynastic guarantee which we

persistently withheld. In the spring of 1873, when matters relating to

the Afghan-Persian frontier had to be adjusted, the Ameer sent his Prime

Minister to Simla with the intention of using every diplomatic means for

the extortion of that long-delayed boon.

The time seemed to favour his design. Apart from the Persian boundary

questions (which were settled in a manner displeasing to the Ameer),

trouble loomed ahead in Central Asia. The Russians were advancing on

Khiva; and the Afghan statesman, during his stay at Simla, sought to

intimidate Lord Northbrook by parading this fact. He pointed out that

Russia would easily conquer Khiva and then would capture Merv, near the

western frontier of Afghanistan, "either in the current year or the

next." Equally obvious was his aim in insisting that "the interests of

the Afghan and English Governments are identical," and that "the border

of Afghanistan is in truth the border of India." These were ingenious

ways of working his intrenchments up to the hitherto inaccessible

citadel of Indian border policy. The news of the Russian advance on

Khiva lent strength to his argument.

[Illustration: AFGHANISTAN]

Yet, when he came to the question of the guarantee of Shere Ali's

dynasty, he again met with a rebuff. In truth, Lord Northbrook and his

advisers saw that the Ameer was seeking to frighten them about Russia

in order to improve his own family prospects in Afghanistan; and, paying

too much attention, perhaps, to the oriental artfulness of the method of

request, and too little to the importance of the questions then at

stake, he decided to meet the Ameer in regard to non-essentials, though

he failed to satisfy him on the one thing held to be needful at the

palace of Cabul.

Anxious, however, to consult the Home Government on a matter of such

importance, now that the Russians were known to be at Khiva, Lord

Northbrook telegraphed to the Duke of Argyll on July 24, 1873:--

Ameer of Cabul alarmed at Russian progress, dissatisfied with general

assurance, and anxious to know how far he may rely on our help if

invaded. I propose assuring him that if he unreservedly accepts and acts

on our advice in all external relations, we will help him with money,

arms, and troops, if necessary, to expel unprovoked aggression. We to be

the judge of the necessity. Answer by telegraph quickly.

The Gladstone Ministry was here at the parting of the ways. The Ameer

asked them to form an alliance on equal terms. They refused, believing,

as it seems, that they could keep to the old one-sided arrangement of

1855, whereby the Ameer promised effective help to the Indian

Government, if need be, and gained only friendly assurance in return.

The Duke of Argyll telegraphed in reply on July 26:--

Cabinet thinks you should inform Ameer that we do not at all share his

alarm, and consider there is no cause for it; but you may assure him we

shall maintain our settled policy in favour of Afghanistan if he abides

by our advice in external affairs[290].

[Footnote 290: Argyll, _op. cit._ vol. ii. 331. The Gladstone Cabinet

clearly weakened Lord Northbrook's original proposal, and must therefore

bear a large share of responsibility for the alienation of the Ameer

which soon ensued. The Duke succeeded in showing up many inaccuracies in

the versions of these events afterwards given by Lord Lytton and Lord

Cranbrook; but he was seemingly quite unconscious of the consequences

resulting from adherence to an outworn theory.]

This answer, together with a present of £100,000 and 20,000 rifles, was

all that the Ameer gained; his own shrewd sense had shown him long

before that Britain must in any case defend Afghanistan against Russia.

What he wanted was an official recognition of his own personal position

as ruler, while he acted, so to speak, as the "Count of the Marches" of

India. The Gladstone Government held out no hopes of assuring the future

of their _Mark-graf_ or of his children after him. The remembrance of

the disaster in the Khyber Pass in 1841 haunted them, as it had done

their predecessors, like a ghost, and scared them from the course of

action which might probably have led to the conclusion of a close

offensive and defensive alliance between India and Afghanistan.

Such a consummation was devoutly to be hoped for in view of events which

had transpired in Central Asia. Khiva had been captured by the Russians.

This Khanate intervened between Bokhara and the Caspian Sea, which the

Russians used as their base of operations on the west. The plea of

necessity was again put forward, and it might have been urged as

forcibly on geographical and strategic grounds as on the causes that

were alleged for the rupture. They consisted mainly of the frontier

incidents that are wont to occur with restless, uncivilised neighbours.

The Czar's Government also accused the Khivans of holding some Russian

subjects in captivity, and of breaking their treaty of 1842 with Russia

by helping the Khirgiz Horde in a recent revolt against their

new masters.

Russia soon had ready three columns, which were to converge on Khiva:

one was stationed on the River Ural, a second at the rising port of

Krasnovodsk on the Caspian Sea, and a third, under General Kaufmann, at

Tashkend. So well were their operations timed that, though the distances

to be traversed varied from 480 to 840 miles, in parts over a waterless

desert, yet the three chief forces arrived almost simultaneously at

Khiva and met with the merest show of resistance (June 1873). Setting

the young Khan on the throne of his father, they took from him his

ancestral lands of the right bank of the Amu Daria (Oxus) and imposed

on him a crushing war indemnity of 2,200,000 roubles, which assured his

entire dependence on his new creditors. They further secured their hold

on these diminished territories by erecting two forts on the river[291].

The Czar's Government was content with assuring its hold upon Khiva,

without annexing the Khanate outright, seeing that it had disclaimed any

such intention[292]. All the same, Russia was now mistress of nearly the

whole of Central Asia; and the advance of roads and railways portended

further conquests at the expense of Persia and the few remaining

Turkoman tribes.

[Footnote 291: J. Popowski, _The Rival Powers in Central Asia_, p. 47

(Eng. edit).; A. Vambéry, _The Coming Struggle for India_, p. 21; A.R.

Colquhoun, _Russia against India_, pp. 24-26; Lavisse and Rambaud,

_Histoire Générale_, vol. xii. pp. 793-794.]

[Footnote 292: Parl. Papers, Afghanistan, No. 1 (1878), p. 101.]

In order to estimate the importance of these facts, it must be

remembered that the teachings of Geography and History concur in showing

the practicability of an invasion of India from Central Asia. Touching

first the geographical facts, we may point out that India and

Afghanistan stand in somewhat the same relation to the Asiatic continent

that Italy and Switzerland hold to that of Europe. The rich lands and

soft climate of both Peninsulas have always been an irresistible

attraction to the dwellers among the more barren mountains and plains of

the North; and the lie of the land on the borders of both of these

seeming Eldorados favours the advance of more virile peoples in their

search for more genial conditions of life. Nature, which enervates the

defenders in their sultry plains, by her rigorous training imparts a

touch of the wolf to the mountaineers or plain-dwellers of the North;

and her guides (rivers and streams) conduct the hardy seekers for the

sun by easy routes up to the final mountain barriers. Finally, those

barriers, the Alps and the Hindu Koosh, are notched by passes that are

practicable for large armies, as has been seen now and again from the

times of Alexander the Great and Hannibal to those of Nadir Shah

and Napoleon.

In these conditions, physical and climatic, is to be found the reason

for the success that has so often attended the invasions of Italy and

India. Only when the Romans organised all the forces of their Peninsula

and the fresh young life beyond, were the defensive powers of Italy

equal to her fatally attractive powers. Only when Britain undertook the

defence of India, could her peoples feel sure of holding the North-West

against the restless Pathans and Afghans; and the situation was wholly

changed when a great military Empire pushed its power to the river-gates

of Afghanistan.

The friendship of the Ameer was now a matter of vital concern; and yet,

as we have seen, Lord Northbrook alienated him, firstly by giving an

unfavourable verdict in regard to the Persian boundary in the district

of Seistan, and still more so by refusing to grant the long-wished-for

guarantee of his dynasty.

The year 1873 marks a fatal turning-point in Anglo-Afghan relations.

Yakub Khan told Lord Roberts at Cabul in 1879 that his father, Shere

Ali, had been thoroughly disgusted with Lord Northbrook in 1873, "and at

once made overtures to the Russians, with whom constant intercourse had

since been kept up[293]."

[Footnote 293: Lord Roberts, _Forty-one Years in India_, vol. ii. p.

247; also _Life of Abdur Rahman_, by Mohammed Khan, 2 vols. (1900), vol.

i. p. 149.]

In fact, all who are familiar with the events preceding the first Afghan

War (1839-42) can now see that events were fast drifting into a position

dangerously like that which led Dost Mohammed to throw himself into the

arms of Russia. At that time also the Afghan ruler had sought to gain

the best possible terms for himself and his dynasty from the two rivals;

and, finding that the Russian promises were far more alluring than those

emanating from Calcutta, he went over to the Muscovites. At bottom that

had been the determining cause of the first Afghan War; and affairs were

once more beginning to revolve in the same vicious circle. Looking back

on the events leading up to the second Afghan War, we can now see that a

frank compliance with the demands of Shere Ali would have been far less

costly than the non-committal policy which in 1873 alienated him.

Outwardly he posed as the aggrieved but still faithful friend. In

reality he was looking northwards for the personal guarantee which never

came from Calcutta.

It should, however, be stated that up to the time of the fall of the

Gladstone Ministry (February 1874), Russia seemed to have no desire to

meddle in Afghan affairs. The Russian Note of January 21, 1874, stated

that the Imperial Government "continued to consider Afghanistan as

entirely beyond its sphere of action[294]." Nevertheless, that

declaration inspired little confidence. The Russophobes, headed by Sir

Henry Rawlinson and Sir Bartle Frere, could reply that they distrusted

Russian disclaimers concerning Afghanistan, when the plea of necessity

had so frequently and so speedily relegated to oblivion the earlier

"assurances of intention."

[Footnote 294: Argyll, _Eastern Question_, vol. ii. p. 347. See,

however, the letters that passed between General Kaufmann, Governor of

Turkestan, and Cabul in 1870-74, in Parl. Papers, Central Asia, No. 1

(1881), pp. 2-10.]

Such was the state of affairs when, in February 1874, Disraeli came to

power at Westminster with Lord Salisbury as Secretary of State for

India. The new Ministry soon showed the desire to adopt a more spirited

foreign policy than their predecessors, who had fretted public opinion

by their numerous acts of complaisance or surrender. Russia soon gave

cause for complaint. In June 1874 the Governor of the trans-Caspian

province issued a circular, warning the nomad Turkomans of the Persian

border-lands against raiding; it applied to tribes inhabiting districts

within what were considered to be the northern boundaries of Persia.

This seemed to contravene the assurances previously given by Russia that

she would not extend her possessions in the southern part of Central

Asia[295]. It also foreshadowed another stride forward at the expense of

the Turkoman districts both of Persia and Afghanistan.

[Footnote 295: Parl. Papers, Afghanistan, No. 1 (1878), p. 107.]

As no sufficient disclaimer appeared, the London partisans of the

Indian "forward policy" sought to induce Lord Derby and Lord Salisbury

to take precautionary measures. Their advice was summed up in the Note

of January 11, 1875, written by that charming man and able

administrator, Sir Bartle Frere. Its chief practical recommendation was,

firstly, the despatch of British officers to act as political agents at

Cabul, Candahar, and Herat; and, secondly, the occupation of the

commanding position of Quetta, in Baluchistan, as an outpost commanding

the chief line of advance from Central Asia into India[296].

[Footnote 296: General Jacob had long before advocated the occupation of

this strong flanking position. It was supported by Sir C. Dilke in his

_Greater Britain_ (1867).]

This Note soon gained the ear of the Cabinet; and on January 22, 1875,

Lord Salisbury urged Lord Northbrook to take measures to procure the

assent of the Ameer to the establishment of British officers at Candahar

and Herat (not at Cabul)[297]. The request placed Lord Northbrook in an

embarrassing position, seeing that he knew full well the great

reluctance of the Ameer at all times to receive any British Mission. On

examining the evidence as to the Ameer's objection to receive British

Residents, the viceroy found it to be very strong, while there is ground

for thinking that Ministers and officials in London either ignored it or

sought to minimise its importance. The pressure which they brought to

bear on Lord Northbrook was one of the causes that led to his

resignation (February 1876). He believed that he was in honour bound by

the promise, given to the Ameer at the Umballa Conference, not to impose

a British Resident on him against his will.

[Footnote 297: Parl. Papers, Afghanistan, No. 1 (1878), pp. 128-129.]

He was succeeded by a man of marked personality, Lord Lytton. The only

son of the celebrated novelist, he inherited decided literary gifts,

especially an unusual facility of expression both in speech and writing,

in prose and verse. Any tendency to redundance in speech is generally

counted unfavourable to advancement in diplomatic circles, where

Talleyrand's _mot_ as to language being a means of _concealing_ thought

still finds favour. Owing, however, to the influence of his uncle, then

British Ambassador at Washington, but far more to his own talents,

Lytton rose rapidly in the diplomatic service, holding office in the

chief embassies, until Disraeli discerned in the brilliant speaker and

writer the gifts that would grace the new imperial policy in the East.

In ordinary times the new Viceroy would probably have crowned the new

programme with success. His charm and vivacity of manner appealed to

orientals all the more by contrast with the cold and repellent behaviour

that too often characterises Anglo-Indian officials in their dealings

with natives. Lytton's mind was tinged with the eastern glow that lit up

alike the stories, the speeches, and the policy of his chief. It is

true, the imperialist programme was as grandiosely vague as the meaning

of _Tancred_ itself; but in a land where forms and words count for much

the lack of backbone in the new policy was less observed and commented

on than by the matter-of-fact islanders whom it was designed to glorify.

The apotheosis of the new policy was the proclamation of Queen Victoria

as Empress of India (July 1, 1877), an event which was signalised by a

splendid Durbar at Delhi on January 1, 1878. The new title warned the

world that, however far Russia advanced in Central Asia, England nailed

the flag of India to her masthead. It was also a useful reminder to the

small but not uninfluential Positivist school in England that their

"disapproval" of the existence of a British Empire in India was wholly

Platonic. Seeing also that the name "Queen" in Hindu (_Malika_) was one

of merely respectable mediocrity in that land of splendour, the new

title, "Kaisar-i-Hind," helped to emphasise the supremacy of the British

Raj over the Nizam and Gaekwar. In fact, it is difficult now to take

seriously the impassioned protests with which a number of insulars

greeted the proposal.

Nevertheless, in one sense the change of title came about most

inopportunely. Fate willed that over against the Durbar at Delhi there

stood forth the spectral form of Famine, bestriding the dusty plains of

the Carnatic. By the glint of her eyes the splendours of Delhi shone

pale, and the viceregal eloquence was hushed in the distant hum of her

multitudinous wailing. The contrast shocked all beholders, and unfitted

them for a proper appreciation of the new foreign policy.

That policy may also be arraigned on less sentimental grounds. The year

1876 witnessed the re-opening of the Eastern Question in a most

threatening manner, the Disraeli Ministry taking up what may be termed

the Palmerstonian view that the maintenance of Turkey was essential to

the stability of the Indian Empire. As happened in and after 1854,

Russia, when thwarted in Europe, sought for her revenge in the lands

bordering on India. No district was so favourable to Muscovite schemes

as the Afghan frontier, then, as now, the weakest point in Great

Britain's imperial armour. Thenceforth the Afghan Question became a

pendant of the Eastern Question.

Russia found ready to hand the means of impressing the Ameer with a

sense of her irresistible power. The Czar's officials had little

difficulty in picking a quarrel with the Khanate of Khokand. Under the

pretext of suppressing a revolt (which Vambéry and others consider to

have been prepared through Muscovite agencies) they sent troops,

ostensibly with the view of favouring the Khan. The expedition gained a

complete success, alike over the rebels and the Khan himself, who

thenceforth sank to the level of pensioner of his liberators (1876). It

is significant that General Kaufmann at once sent to the Ameer at Cabul

a glowing account of the Russian success[298]; and the news of this

communication increased the desire of the British Government to come to

a clear understanding with the Ameer.

[Footnote 298: Parl. Papers, Central Asia, No. 1 (1881), pp. 12-14;

Shere Ali's letters to him (some of them suspicious) and the replies are

also printed.]

Unfortunately our authorities set to work in a way that increased his

irritation. Lord Salisbury on February 28, 1876, instructed Lord Lytton

to offer slightly larger concessions to Shere Ali; but he refused to go

further than to allow "a frank recognition (not a guarantee) of a _de

facto_ order in the succession" to the throne of Afghanistan, and

undertook to defend his dominions against external attack "only in some

clear case of unprovoked aggression." On the other hand, the British

Government stated that "they must have, for their own agents, undisputed

access to [the] frontier positions [of Afghanistan][299]." Thus, while

granting very little more than before, the new Ministry claimed for

British agents and officers a right of entry which wounded the pride of

a suspicious ruler and a fanatical people.

[Footnote 299: Parl. Papers, Central Asia, No. 1 (1881), pp. 156-159.]

To sum up, we gave Shere Ali no help while he was struggling for power

with his rivals; and after he had won the day, we pinned him to the

terms of a one-sided alliance. In the matter of the Seistan frontier

dispute with Persia, British arbitration was insolently defied by the

latter Power, yet we urged the Ameer to accept the Shah's terms.

According to Lord Napier of Magdala, he felt the loss of the once Afghan

district of Seistan more keenly than anything else, and thenceforth

regarded us as weak and untrustworthy[300].

[Footnote 300: _Ibid_. pp. 225-226.]

The Ameer's irritation increased at the close of the year when the

Viceroy concluded an important treaty with the Khan of Khelat in

Baluchistan. It would take us too far from our main path to turn aside

into the jungle of Baluchee politics. Suffice it to say that the long

series of civil strifes in that land had come to an end largely owing to

the influence of Major (afterwards Sir Robert) Sandeman. His fine

presence, masterful personality, frank, straightforward, and kindly

demeanour early impressed the Khan and his turbulent Sirdars. In two

Missions which he undertook to Khelat in the years 1875 and 1876, he

succeeded in stilling their internal feuds and in clearing away the

misunderstandings which had arisen with the Indian Government. But he

saw still further ahead. Detecting signs of foreign intrigue in that

land, he urged that British mediation should, if possible, become

permanent. His arguments before long convinced the new Viceroy, Lord

Lytton, who had at first doubted the advisability of the second Mission;

and in the course of a tour along the north-west frontier, he held at

Jacobabad a grand Durbar, which was attended by the Khan of Khelat and

his once rebellious Sirdars. There on December 8, 1876, he signed a

treaty with the Khan, whereby the British Government became the final

arbiter in all disputes between him and his Sirdars, obtained the right

of stationing British troops in certain parts of Baluchistan, and of

constructing railways and telegraphs. Three lakhs of rupees were given

to the Khan, and his yearly subsidy of Rs. 50,000 was doubled[301].

[Footnote 301: _Sir Robert Sandeman_, by T.H. Thornton, chaps, ix.-x.;

Parl. Papers relating to the Treaty . . . of 8th Dec. 1876; _The Forward

Policy and its Results_, by R.I. Bruce; _Lord Lytton's Indian

Administration,_ by Lady Betty Balfour, chap. iii.

The Indian rupee is worth sixteen pence.]

The Treaty of Jacobabad is one of the most satisfactory diplomatic

triumphs of the present age. It came, not as the sequel to a sanguinary

war, but as a sign of the confidence inspired in turbulent and sometimes

treacherous chiefs by the sterling qualities of those able frontier

statesmen, the Napiers, the Lawrences, General Jacob, and Major

Sandeman. It spread the _pax Britannica_ over a land as large as Great

Britain, and quietly brought a warlike people within the sphere of

influence of India. It may be compared with Bonaparte's Act of Mediation

in Switzerland (1803), as marking the triumph of a strong organising

intelligence over factious groups, to which it imparted peace and order

under the shelter of a generally beneficent suzerainty. Before long a

strong garrison was posted at Quetta, and we gained the right to enlist

Baluchee troops of excellent fighting powers. The Quetta position is a

mountain bastion which strengthens the outer defences of India, just as

the Alps and Juras, when under Napoleon's control, menaced any invaders

of France.

This great advantage was weighted by one considerable drawback. The

victory of British influence in Baluchistan aroused the utmost

resentment of Shere Ali, who now saw his southern frontier outflanked by

Britain. Efforts were made in January-February 1877 to come to an

understanding; but, as Lord Lytton insisted on the admission of British

Residents to Afghanistan, a long succession of interviews at Peshawur,

between the Ameer's chief adviser and Sir Lewis Pelly, led to no other

result than an increase of suspicion on both sides. The Viceroy

thereupon warned the Ameer that all supplies and subsidies would be

stopped until he became amenable to advice and ceased to maltreat

subjects known to be favourable to the British alliance. As a retort the

Ameer sought to call the border tribes to a _Jehad_, or holy war,

against the British, but with little success. He had no hold over the

tribes between Chitral and the Khyber Pass; and the incident served only

to strengthen the Viceroy's aim of subjecting them to Britain. In the

case of the Jowakis we succeeded, though only after a campaign which

proved to be costly in men and money.

In fact, Lord Lytton was now convinced of the need of a radical change

of frontier policy. He summed up his contentions in the following

phrases in his despatches of the early summer of 1877:--"Shere Ali has

irrevocably slipped out of our hands; . . . I conceive that it is rather

the disintegration and weakening, than the consolidation and

establishment, of the Afghan power at which we must now begin to aim."

As for the mountain barrier, in which men of the Lawrence school had

been wont to trust, he termed it "a military mouse-trap," and he stated

that Napoleon I. had once for all shown the futility of relying on a

mountain range that had several passes[302]. These assertions show what

perhaps were the weak points of Lord Lytton in practical politics--an

eager and impetuous disposition, too prone to be dazzled by the very

brilliance of the phrases which he coined.

[Footnote 302: Lady B. Balfour, _op. cit._ pp.166-185, 247-148.]

At the close of his despatch of April 8, 1878, to Lord Cranbrook (Lord

Salisbury's successor at the India Office) he sketched out, as "the best

arrangement," a scheme for breaking up the Cabul power and bringing

about "the creation of a West Afghan Khanate, including Merv, Maimena,

Balkh, Candahar, and Herat, under some prince of our own selection, who

would be dependent on our support. With Western Afghanistan thus

disposed of, and a small station our own, close to our frontier in the

Kurram valley, the destinies of Cabul itself would be to us a matter of

no importance[303]."

[Footnote 303: _Ibid_. pp. 246-247.]

This, then, was the new policy in its widest scope. Naturally it met

with sharp opposition from Lord Lawrence and others in the India Council

at Whitehall. Besides involving a complete change of front, it would

naturally lead to war with the Ameer, and (if the intentions about Merv

were persisted in) with Russia as well. And for what purpose? In order

that we might gain an advanced frontier and break in pieces the one

important State which remained as a buffer between India and Russian

Asia. In the eyes of all but the military men this policy stood

self-condemned. Its opponents pointed out that doubtless Russian

intrigues were going on at Cabul; but they were the result of the marked

hostility between England and Russia in Europe, and a natural retort to

the sending of Indian troops to Malta. Besides, was it true that British

influence at Cabul was permanently lost? Might it not be restored by

money and diplomacy? Or if these means failed, could not affairs be so

worked at Cabul as to bring about the deposition of the Ameer in favour

of some claimant who would support England? In any case, the extension

of our responsibilities to centres so remote as Balkh and Herat would

overstrain the already burdened finances of India, and impair her power

of defence at vital points.

These objections seem to have had some weight at Whitehall, for by the

month of August the Viceroy somewhat lowered his tone; he gave up all

hope of influencing Merv, and consented to make another effort to win

back the Ameer, or to seek to replace him by a more tractable prince.

But, failing this, he advised, though with reluctance on political

grounds, the conquest and occupation of so much of Afghan territory as

would "be absolutely requisite for the permanent maintenance of our

North-West frontier[304]."

[Footnote 304: Lady B. Balfour, _op. cit._ p. 255. For a defence of this

on military grounds see Lord Roberts' _Forty-One Years in India_, vol.

ii, p. 187; and Thorburn's _Asiatic Neighbours_, chap. xiv.]

But by this time all hope of peace had become precarious. On June 13,

the day of opening of the Congress of Berlin, a Russian Mission, under

General Stolieteff, left Samarcand for Cabul. The Ameer is said to have

heard this news with deep concern, and to have sought to prevent it

crossing the frontier. The Russians, however, refused to turn back, and

entered Cabul on July 22[305]. As will be seen by reference to

Skobeleff's "Plan for the Invasion of India" (Appendix II.), the Mission

was to be backed up by columns of troops; and, with the aim of

redoubling the pressure of Russian diplomacy in Europe, the Minister for

War at St. Petersburg had issued orders on April 25, 1878, for the

despatch of three columns of troops which were to make a demonstration

against India. The chief force, 12,000 strong, with 44 guns and a rocket

battery, was to march from Samarcand and Tashkend on Cabul; the second,

consisting of only 1700 men, was to stir up the mountain tribes of the

Chitral district to raid the north of the Punjab; while the third, of

the same strength, moved from the middle part of the Amu Daria (Oxus)

towards Merv and Herat. The main force set out from Tashkend on June 13,

and after a most trying march reached the Russo-Bokharan border, only to

find that its toils were fruitless owing to the signature of the Treaty

of Berlin (July 13). The same disappointing news dispelled the dreams of

conquest which had nerved the other columns in their burning march.

[Footnote 305: Parl Papers, Afghanistan, No. 1 (1878), pp.242-243;

_ibid._ Central Asia, No. 1, pp.165 _et seq._]

Thus ended the scheme of invasion of India to which Skobeleff had

lately given shape and body. In January 1877, while in his Central Asian

command, he had drawn up a detailed plan, the important parts of which

will be found in the Appendices of this volume. During the early spring

of 1878, when the Russian army lay at San Stefano, near Constantinople,

he drew up another plan of the same tenour. It seems certain that the

general outline of these projects haunted the minds of officers and men

in the expeditions just referred to; for the columns withdrew northwards

most slowly and reluctantly[306].

[Footnote 306: For details see _Russia's Advance towards India_, by "an

Indian Officer," vol. ii. pp.109 _et seq._]

A perusal of Skobeleff's plan will show that he relied also on a

diplomatic Mission to Cabul and on the despatch of the Afghan pretender,

Abdur Rahman, from Samarcand to the Afghan frontier. Both of these

expedients were adopted in turn; the former achieved a startling but

temporary success.

As has been stated above, General Stolieteff's Mission entered Cabul on

July 22. The chief himself returned on August 24; but other members of

his Mission remained several weeks longer. There seem to be good grounds

for believing that the Ameer, Shere Ali, signed a treaty with

Stolieteff; but as to its purport we have no other clue than the draft

which purports to be written out from memory by a secret agent of the

Indian Government. Other Russian documents, some of which Lord Granville

afterwards described as containing "some very disagreeable passages . . .

written subsequently to the Treaty of Berlin," were found by Lord

Roberts; and the Russian Government found it difficult to give a

satisfactory explanation of them[307].

[Footnote 307: The alleged treaty is printed, along with the other

documents, in Parl. Papers, Central Asia, No. 1 (1881), pp. 17-30. See

also Lord Roberts' _Forty-one Years in India_, vol. ii. p.477.]

In any case the Government of India could not stand by and witness the

intrusion of Muscovite influence into Afghanistan. Action, however, was

very difficult owing to the alienation of the Ameer. His resentment had

now settled into lasting hatred. As a test question Lord Lytton sought

to impose on him the reception of a British Mission. On August 8 he

received telegraphic permission from London to make this demand. The

Ameer, however, refused to allow a single British officer to enter the

country; and the death of his son and heir on August 17 enabled him to

decline to attend to affairs of State for a whole month.

His conduct in this matter was condoned by the champions of "masterly

inactivity" in this country, who proceeded to accuse the Viceroy of

haste in sending forward the British Mission to the frontier before the

full time of mourning was over[308]. We now know, however, that this

sympathy was misplaced. Shere Ali's grief did not prevent him seeing

officers of the Russian Mission after his bereavement, and (as it seems)

signing an alliance with the emissaries of the Czar. Lord Lytton was

better informed as to the state of things at Cabul than were his very

numerous critics, one of whom, under the shield of anonymity,

confidently stated that the Russian Mission to Cabul was either an

affair of etiquette or a means of warding off a prospective attack from

India on Russian Turkestan; that the Ameer signed no treaty with the

Mission, and was deeply embarrassed by its presence; while Lord Lytton's

treatment of the Ameer was discourteous[309].

[Footnote 308: Duke of Argyll, _The Eastern Question, _vol. ii. pp.

504-507.]

[Footnote 309: _The Causes of the Afghan War, _pp. 305 _et seq._]

In the light of facts as now known, these charges are seen to be the

outcome of a vivid imagination or of partisan malice. There can be no

doubt that Shere Ali had played us false. Apart from his intrigues with

Russia, he had condoned the murder of a British officer by keeping the

murderer in office, and had sought to push on the frontier tribes into a

holy war. Finally, he sent orders to stop the British Mission at Ali

Musjid, the fort commanding the entrance to the Khyber Pass. This

action, which occurred on September 22, must be pronounced a deliberate

insult, seeing that the progress of that Mission had been so timed as

that it should reach Cabul after the days of mourning were over. In the

Viceroy's view, the proper retort would have been a declaration of war;

but again the Home Government imposed caution, urging the despatch of an

ultimatum so as to give time for repentance at Cabul. It was sent on

November 2, with the intimation that if no answer reached the frontier

by November 20, hostilities would begin. No answer came until a later

date, and then it proved to be of an evasive character.

Such, in brief outline, were the causes of the second Afghan War. In the

fuller light of to-day it is difficult to account for the passion which

the discussion of them aroused at the time. But the critics of the

Government held strong ground at two points. They could show, first,

that the war resulted in the main from Lord Beaconsfield's persistent

opposition to Russia in the Eastern Question, also that the Muscovite

intrigues at Cabul were a natural and very effective retort to the showy

and ineffective expedient of bringing Indian troops to Malta; in short,

that the Afghan War was due largely to Russia's desire for revenge.

Secondly, they fastened on what was undoubtedly a weak point in the

Ministerial case, namely, that Lord Beaconsfield's speech at the Lord

Mayor's Banquet, on November 9, 1878, laid stress almost solely on the

need for acquiring a scientific frontier on the north-west of India. In

the parliamentary debate of December 9 he sought to rectify this mistake

by stating that he had never asserted that a new frontier was the object

of the war, but rather a possible consequence. His critics refused to

accept the correction. They pinned him to his first words. If this were

so, they said, what need of recounting our complaints against Shere Ali?

These were merely the pretexts, not the causes, of a war which was to be

waged solely in the cold-blooded quest for a scientific frontier. Perish

India, they cried, if her fancied interests required the sacrifice of

thousands of lives of brave hillmen on the altar of the new Imperialism.

These accusations were logically justifiable against Ministers who dwelt

largely on that frigid abstraction, the "scientific frontier," and laid

less stress on the danger of leaving an ally of Russia on the throne of

Afghanistan. The strong point of Lord Lytton's case lay in the fact that

the policy of the Gladstone Ministry had led Shere Ali to side with

Russia; but this fact was inadequately explained, or, at least, not in

such a way as to influence public opinion. The popular fancy caught at

the phrase "scientific frontier"; and for once Lord Beaconsfield's

cleverness in phrase-making conspired to bring about his overthrow.

But the logic of words does not correspond to the logic of facts. Words

are for the most part simple, downright, and absolute. The facts of

history are very rarely so. Their importance is very often relative, and

is conditioned by changing circumstances. It was so with the events that

led up to the second Afghan War. They were very complex, and could not

be summed up, or disposed of, by reference to a single formula.

Undoubtedly the question of the frontier was important; but it did not

become of supreme importance until, firstly, Shere Ali became our enemy,

and, secondly, showed unmistakable signs of having a close understanding

with Russia. Thenceforth it became a matter of vital import for India to

have a frontier readibly defensible against so strong a combination as

that of Russia and Afghanistan.

It would be interesting to know what Mr. Gladstone and his supporters

would have done if they had come into power in the summer of 1878. That

they blamed their opponents on many points of detail does not prove that

they would not have taken drastic means to get rid of Shere Ali. In the

unfortunate state into which affairs had drifted in 1878, how was that

to be effected without war? The situation then existing may perhaps best

be summed up in the words which General Roberts penned at Cabul on

November 22, 1879, after a long and illuminating conversation with the

new Ameer concerning his father's leanings towards Russia: "Our recent

rupture with Shere Ali has, in fact, been the means of unmasking and

checking a very serious conspiracy against the peace and security of our

Indian Empire[310]."

[Footnote 310: Parl. Papers, Afghanistan, No. 1 (1880), p. 171.]

Given the situation actually existing in 1878, the action of the British

Government is justifiable as regards details. The weak point of the

Beaconsfield policy was this: that the situation need not have existed.

As far as can be judged from the evidence hitherto published (if we

except some wild talk on the part of Muscovite Chauvinists), Russia

would not have interfered in Afghanistan except in order to paralyse

England's action in Turkish affairs. As has been pointed out above, the

Afghan trouble was a natural sequel to the opposition offered by

Disraeli to Russia from the time of the re-opening of the Balkan problem

in 1875-76; and the consideration of the events to be described in the

following chapter will add one more to the many proofs already existing

as to the fatefulness of the blunder committed by him when he wrecked

the Berlin Memorandum, dissolved the Concert of the Powers, and rendered

hopeless a peaceful solution of the Eastern Question.

CHAPTER XIV

THE AFGHAN AND TURKOMAN CAMPAIGNS

"The Forward Policy--in other words, the policy of

endeavouring to extend our influence over, and establish law

and order on, that part of the [Indian] Border, where

anarchy, murder, and robbery up to the present time have

reigned supreme, a policy which has been attended with the

happiest results in Baluchistan and on the Gilgit

frontier--is necessitated by the incontrovertible fact that a

great Military Power is now within striking distance of our

Indian possessions, and in immediate contact with a State for

the integrity of which we have made ourselves

responsible."--LORD ROBERTS: Speech in the House of Lords,

March 7, 1898.

The operations at the outset of the Afghan War ended with so easy a

triumph for the British arms that it is needless to describe them in

much detail. They were planned to proceed at three points on the

irregular arc of the south-eastern border of Afghanistan. The most

northerly column, that of General Sir Samuel Browne, had Peshawur as its

base of supplies. Some 16,000 strong, it easily captured the fort of Ali

Musjid at the mouth of the Khyber Pass, then threaded that defile with

little or no opposition, and pushed on to Jelalabad. Around that town

(rendered famous by General Sale's defence in 1841-2) it dealt out

punishment to the raiding clans of Afridis.

The column of the centre, acting from Kohat as a base against the Kurram

Valley, was commanded by a general destined to win renown in the later

phases of the war. Major-General Roberts represented all that was

noblest and most chivalrous in the annals of the British Army in India.

The second son of General Sir Abraham Roberts, G.C.B., and born at

Cawnpore in 1832, he inherited the traditions of the service which he

was to render still more illustrious. His frame, short and slight,

seemed scarcely to fit him for warlike pursuits; and in ages when great

stature and sturdy sinews were alone held in repute, he might have been

relegated to civil life; but the careers of William III., Luxemburg,

Nelson, and Roberts show that wiriness is more essential to a commander

than animal strength, and that mind rather than muscle determines the

course of campaigns. That the young aspirant for fame was not deficient

in personal prowess appeared at Khudaganj, one of the battles of the

Mutiny, when he captured a standard from two sepoys, and, later on the

same day, cut down a third sepoy. But it was his clear insight into men

and affairs, his hold on the principles of war, his alertness of mind,

and his organising power, that raised him above the crowd of meritorious

officers who saved India for Britain in those stormy days.