another; but the relentless Afghans were stationed at every point, and their matchlocks brought down the scattered fugitives with unresting activity. More than once, Akbar Khan entered into communication with the English officers, and, upon receiving further hostages, made promises of assistance which were not fulfilled. Occasionally the British troops and the Sepoys made a desperate stand, and for a moment drove back their assailants; but, as day succeeded day, their numbers became fewer, and the spirit of resistance died within them. On the 12th and 13th of January, the force was reduced to a mere fragment; but, in proportion to the smallness of their numbers, the men seemed to recover the habits of discipline they had lost, and, standing close together, entered into hand-to-hand conflicts with the Afghans, in which the latter suffered severely. The position, however, was absolutely hopeless, and, in the course of January 13th, thirty soldiers—all who were now left, though the camp-followers still numbered two or three hundred—took up their station on the slopes of a hill, and fought with wonderful resolution until overpowered and slain. Setting aside the hostages, all were now exterminated—English, Sepoys, and camp-followers; all, with the exception of one man, who, wounded, and in a state approaching exhaustion, rode up to the walls of Jelalabad on that fatal 13th of January, still holding in his nerveless grasp a broken and unavailing sword. The survivor of the great catastrophe was Dr. Brydon, one of the medical officers, who had somehow managed to escape the massacre, and who conveyed intelligence of what had happened to General Sale and his gallant companions, then holding a position which in itself was desperate.
On one of the occasions when Akbar Khan held parley with the fugitives, he suggested that the ladies and children should be given up to him, and he undertook to convey them in safety to Peshawur. These terms were accepted, with the single modification that the husbands of the married ladies should accompany their wives. As the women and children could not have escaped massacre, or death from cold and fatigue, had they remained with the army, the arrangement was a wise one, as it offered them at least a chance of life. They were treated with some consideration, and ultimately rescued during the military operations of a later period. Two days later—namely, on the 11th of January—Akbar Khan again entered into negotiations with the English officers, and demanded that General Elphinstone, Brigadier Shelton, and Captain Johnson, should be given up to him as additional hostages. This was done, and the chief commander of the British forces went into captivity with his two subordinates. The treaty concluded by General Elphinstone and Akbar Khan, before the former quitted Cabul, contained an article stipulating that the English force at Jelalabad should march for Peshawur before the Cabul army arrived, and should not delay on the road. Information of this agreement was conveyed to Jelalabad by a band of horsemen, who, under cover of a flag of truce, presented
THE REMNANT OF AN ARMY: ARRIVAL OF DR. BRYDON AT JELALABAD. (See p. 119.)
(Sketch of the Picture by Lady Butler.)
themselves before the gates. They bore with them a despatch from General Elphinstone, ordering Sir Robert Sale to evacuate the country without delay. Sale was placed in a very difficult position; for Elphinstone was his superior officer, and yet to obey his orders, as by strict military duty he was bound to do, might entail the destruction of his whole force. He accordingly summoned a council of war, at which it was formally resolved that to obey such an order would be imprudent. The position, therefore, was held with splendid gallantry. The ruined fortifications had already been reconstructed, and every effort was now made to supply the town with food and fuel. It was known that an army under General Pollock was hastening to the relief of the garrison; but some time must elapse ere it could arrive, and in the meanwhile the situation was fraught with peril. Akbar Khan, with a numerous army, had appeared before the walls; but Sale determined to hold out to the last. On the 19th of January, an earthquake shook the defences of the town into ruins; and had
DOST MAHOMED.
Akbar immediately assaulted the place, it is almost certain that he would have taken it. Probably, the unexpected convulsion inspired him with awe, and, as the English at once set to work to repair the damage that had been done, they were soon in a position to resist attack. In the early part of April, food and ammunition began to fail, and the spirited commander determined on active operations. On the 7th of the month the Afghans were attacked and driven off. With the remnant of his disheartened army, Akbar fled towards Cabul, leaving in our hands a vast amount of stores. Pollock was with difficulty forcing his way through the Khyber Pass; on the 16th of April he arrived at Jelalabad; at the same time, General Nott and Major (afterwards Sir Henry) Rawlinson were holding Candahar; but Colonel Palmer, after a gallant defence, was forced to surrender Ghizni to the Afghans. In the same month which witnessed the
AKBAR KHAN.
relief of Jelalabad, Shah Soojah was assassinated by the adherents of his elder brother—a man, like himself, far advanced in years. The position of Nott at Candahar was precarious, but, when at length relieved, he was able to join Sale and Pollock in an advance on Cabul, where they resolved to avenge the injuries of their countrymen. The chief command was in the hands of Nott, who showed himself a thoroughly capable officer. His first proceeding was to retake Ghizni, and on the 17th of September all three divisions effected their junction at Cabul. It is lamentable to be obliged to add that the city was pillaged by our infuriated soldiers, though perhaps not with the sanction of their commanders, and that needless destruction and slaughter marked the path of the avenging army.
The English prisoners, including the women and children, had during their captivity been frequently moved about from place to place, often in the most terrible extremities of weather, and under circumstances of great hardship; but when the British army arrived at Cabul, they were on their way back to that city. General Elphinstone had died on the 23rd of April; the other members of the party were alive and well. On the 12th of October, the invaders left Cabul, and again, as on the occasion of their advance, passed through defiles still rendered terrible by the whitening bones of their comrades. The greater part of Jelalabad was destroyed, together with the fortifications; Ali Musjid, in the Khyber Pass, was blown into the air; and Afghanistan was entirely evacuated by our troops before the close of 1842. The policy of Lord Auckland was now completely reversed by his successor, Lord Ellenborough, whose term of office had commenced on the 28th of February. In announcing the withdrawal of the British forces from Afghanistan (which he did in a proclamation dated from Simla on the 1st of October), Lord Ellenborough observed that “to force a sovereign upon a reluctant people would be as inconsistent with the policy as it is with the principles of the British Government.” That, no doubt, was the only just position to assume; but it should have been assumed three or four years earlier, and England would then have been spared one of the greatest and most humiliating disasters in the long course of her history. Our interposition had entailed infinite misery on ourselves and on the Afghans, and it had been absolutely unproductive of any good whatever. The country which we had taken under our protection, and from which we had been ignominiously expelled, was now in a state of anarchy, and, as that anarchy was of our own creation, it behoved us to do something towards the restoration of order. Dost Mahomed was set at liberty by the Anglo-Indian Government; and he whom we had refused to recognise in 1838, whom we had driven forth in 1839, and whom we received as a prisoner in 1840, was in 1843 restored to the throne which he seems to have had a legitimate claim to fill. His reign was thus divided into two parts, and the division is marked by a wide river of human blood.
After a tragedy, it was formerly the custom to play a farce. One might almost suppose that the principle involved in this theatrical usage had influenced the mind of Lord Ellenborough in a certain exploit which he performed, in a very demonstrative spirit, shortly after the conclusion of the Afghan war. When Sultan Mahmoud took the Hindoo city of Somnauth, in 1025, he carried away with him the gates of the vast temple dedicated to the god Soma, the idols of which he had shattered and cast down. These trophies were taken to the Imperial city of Ghizni, from which Mahmoud ruled his wide possessions; and there they had remained, or something like them had been preserved, during a period of more than eight hundred years. Lord