of Stoddart and Conolly in Bokhara—Disturbed State of England in 1842—The Queen’s First Visit to Scotland—Receipt of Good News from the East—Position of Prince Albert towards the State—Discretion of his Private Life—Extent of his Labours—Colonisation in New Zealand and New South Wales.
For some years there had been proceeding in the East a series of events which, in the early part of 1842, eventuated in one of the most tragical catastrophes of modern history. To the west of Northern India lies the independent kingdom of Afghanistan, or Cabul, as it is sometimes called after the capital city. The country is mountainous, barren, and austere; the people—to whom some attribute a Jewish origin, but who are certainly a very mixed race—are courageous, warlike, revengeful, predatory in their habits, yet not wanting in some manly virtues. They are Mohammedans of the Sunnite communion, and consequently regard the Turkish Sultan as the head of the Moslem world; yet their tolerance is so great that they allow several Persian Shiites to occupy high official posts, without any restriction on their distinctive rites. Afghanistan has from time to time been a conquering State. In the fifteenth century, it planted a dynasty on the throne of Delhi, which lasted until overthrown by the Mogul Baber in 1526. In the early years of the eighteenth century, it gave two monarchs to Persia, of which it had in ancient times formed a part; but the intruders were speedily expelled. The military genius of the Afghans, however, was not to be long kept down; and after the founding of the Durani dynasty by Ahmed Khan, in 1747, an immense Afghan Empire was rapidly created, which spread from Herat into Hindostan, and from the banks of the Oxus to the Arabian Sea. This dominion broke up early in the present century, and in 1836 the Ameer Dost Mahomed was ruling at Cabul over a territory not very extensive or important.
This somewhat petty sovereign had at his disposal a revenue of 1,400,000 dollars, and an army of 18,000 men. But his dominions were in a disturbed state, and, at the same time, he was at war with Lahore in the east, while, in the west, the Persians had attacked Herat, at that date ruled by one of the Durani princes. Dost Mahomed was therefore very desirous of securing the friendship of the British in India. Lord Auckland, then Governor-General at Calcutta, was disposed to enter into negotiations with the Ameer, conceiving that English power in the East was menaced by the intrigues of Russia, Persia, and Afghanistan. He therefore, in September, 1837, despatched Captain Alexander Burnes to Cabul, with instructions to discuss certain matters. Unfortunately, Captain Burnes was not authorised to promise Dost Mahomed the assistance which he required, to assume a position of independence towards Persia and Russia. Both these Powers were acting for the advancement of their own interests; and, although the Ameer had listened to their suggestions, he told the British envoy that he would much rather co-operate with England, if he could obtain the terms he needed. Burnes urged upon the Governor-General of India the policy of guaranteeing the integrity of the Ameer’s realm, or at least of promising him a subsidy in case of attack. But Lord Auckland would do neither, while at the same moment ordering the distracted chieftain to abandon all negotiations with the rival Powers. The natural consequence was that Dost Mahomed again leant towards the liberal, though interested, offers of Russia; but even then he would gladly have considered the proposals of England, had any been made. The Governor-General, however, preferred to enter into a treaty with Runjeet Singh and Shah Soojah—the former a leader of the Sikhs, the latter a descendant of Ahmed Khan, who had once before ruled in Afghanistan, who had been expelled from the throne, and who was generally detested by the people. Runjeet Singh was to be maintained at Peshawur (to which the Afghans considered they had a claim), and Shah Soojah to be restored to the throne of Cabul with the assistance of an English army. A more unjustifiable, a more fatal, choice was never made.
In his despatches to Lord Auckland, Captain Burnes repeatedly expressed a strong opinion against the abandonment of Dost Mahomed; but these despatches, when published by the British Government long after the writer’s premature and miserable death, were so shamefully garbled that they seemed, by implication, to show that Burnes had actually supported the very policy he strenuously condemned. The fact subsequently came out, and nothing like a defence—not even a decent palliation—could be offered. The English people were kept studiously in the dark as to these manipulations; indeed, they knew very little as to what was passing on the North-western frontiers of India and beyond. Yet those events were of the gravest character, and carried with them a train of consequences which involved the whole of the United Kingdom in a black cloud of mourning and dismay. For a while, however, matters seemed to go very well. The Persian attack on Herat—which was in truth a Russian attack in disguise—had been held in check by the courage of the garrison, led, instructed, and inspirited by the skill and heroism of a young officer, named Eldred Pottinger, who was staying there at the time. Nevertheless, the place
ELDRED POTTINGER AT HERAT. (See p. 113.)
would not have been saved but for the action of the Anglo-Indian Government, which in 1838 sent a naval squadron to the Persian Gulf, and gave the Shah to understand that, if he carried his operations any farther, his persistence would be regarded as a proof of hostility to England. This had the desired effect. The blockade of Herat was abandoned, and the position was saved. The discomfiture of the Persians was a triumph effected without bloodshed, and really valuable in its results. Herat has always been regarded as the key of India, and justly so, when we consider that all the great roads from the west converge within its territory, and that it is capable of producing whatever an army may require.
Captain Burnes left Cabul on the 26th of April, 1838, and met Lord Auckland at Simla. On the 1st of October in the same year, a manifesto was issued by the Governor-General, which was virtually a declaration of war against Dost Mahomed. Mr. (afterwards Sir William) Macnaghten, Secretary to the Government of India, was appointed Minister at the court of Shah Soojah, before any such court existed; and he was to be helped in his operations by Sir Alexander Burnes, for the discredited envoy had now been made a knight. Unanticipated alterations of plan, consequent on the bad faith of Runjeet Singh, who at the last moment refused to allow a passage through his dominions, as he had promised, delayed the starting of the expedition, which did not get on its way until the late winter of 1839. The army, which was in three divisions, consisted of British troops, Afghans, and Sikhs; and it was encumbered with a large number of camp-followers and baggage-animals. The routes pursued were beset by all those difficulties which belong to a mountainous and rocky land. Numbers of men and camels were lost; the soldiers were disheartened by fatigue, and by the gloom of their surroundings; food began to fail; the supplies which were expected at Quetta, beyond the further end of the Bolan Pass, were not forthcoming; and the two principal divisions of the invading force, which had now effected their junction, pushed forward, in a half-famished state, and by a long and difficult defile, to Candahar, which was reached on the 25th of April. The city surrendered without a blow; but the army was now greatly reduced in numbers, and could not reckon more than 10,400 fighting men. Shah Soojah was proclaimed at Candahar, and Sir John Keane, who had command of the whole invading force, while attached more particularly to the Bombay column, then set out for Ghizni, two hundred and thirty miles distant from Candahar, which was itself more than a thousand miles from the points of departure.
Ghizni offered a determined resistance, but was taken by storm on the 23rd of July, when the son of Dost Mahomed, Gholam Hyder Khan, who held the command, was captured. Sir John Keane next pushed on to Cabul, where the fall of Ghizni had produced a feeling of such extreme consternation that the Ameer found himself unable to act against the enemy, and therefore fled with a few attendants to the mountain solitudes of the Hindoo Koosh, on the north-eastern boundary of Afghanistan. The English army, accompanied by Shah Soojah, entered Cabul on the 7th of August; but the demeanour of the people was cold, and the British were detested as strangers, as conquerors, and as Christians. On September 3rd, the invaders were joined by the third division, consisting for the most part of Afghans and Sikhs, under the orders of Colonel Wade, who had taken the fort of Ali Musjid (situated in a narrow part of the Khyber Pass) and the city of Jelalabad. It now seemed as if the Afghans were entirely subdued, and, in its premature satisfaction, the British Government showered honours on the persons principally concerned. Lord Auckland was made an Earl; Sir John Keane a Baron, with a pension of £2,000; and Mr. Macnaghten a Baronet. Other officials received inferior distinctions, and Shah Soojah created an Order of the Durani Empire, the insignia