OVERTURES TO THE BRITISH GOVERNMENT.

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Caubul, often resorted to measures of severity incompatible with the character of a humane ruler, is only to say that for twelve years he retained his place at the head of affairs. Such rigour is inseparable from the government of such a people. We cannot rein wild horses with silken braids.'-pp. 119, 120.

During these years, Russian diplomacy was busily at work in Persia, and in 1835, Mohammed Shah, the new king, contemplated very extensive schemes of conquest in the direction of Afghanistan.' Thus wrote Mr. Ellis, the charge d'affaires at the Persian court, adding, the king conceives that the right of 'sovereignty over Herat and Candahar is as complete now as in 'the reign of the Suffarean dynasty.' Mohammed Shah therefore made preparations, while Dost Mohammed, who could scarcely be a quiet spectator of the advancing Persian army, although not directed against himself, addressed a congratulatory letter to Lord Auckland, who had just succeeded as governor-general, in which, in true oriental style, he declared, the field of my hopes, 'which had before been chilled by the cold blast of wintry times, has, by the happy tidings of your lordship's arrival, become the 'envy of the garden of paradise.' He complained of the treachery of the Sikhs, requested the governor-general's advice, that it 'may serve as a rule for my guidance,' and concluded,—' I hope that your lordship will consider me and my country as your ' own." He little thought,' as Mr. Kaye truly remarks, how, in 'effect, this oriental compliment would be accepted as a solemn 'invitation, and the hope be literally fulfilled.' The governorgeneral returned a friendly reply, and hinted that he should probably depute some gentleman to the court of Caubul to discuss 'commercial topics.' Burnes in consequence was dispatched, while Mohammed Shah appeared before Herat, and the seeds of the Afghan war were sown.'

Alexander Burnes was perhaps the most suitable envoy that could have been employed on this mission. He was, while very young, an excellent linguist and topographer, and, sent four years before, by Lord William Bentinck, on an exploratory mission into central Asia, he crossed the Punjaub, and proceeded to Caubul, where he was hospitably received by Dost Mohammed. The 'character of the Afghan nation and the Caubul chief impressed ' themselves favourably on his mind. He had seen and conversed ' with Shah Soojah, at Loodianah, and declared his opinion that the exiled prince had not energy sufficient to empower him to regain his throne, or tact sufficient to keep it. The character ' of the Barukzye Sirdar now presented, in the eyes of the English ' officer, a favourable contrast to that of the Suddozye prince. He 'saw before him a man of no common ability, with a well disciplined

NO. XXIX.

'mind, a high sense of justice, and a general appreciation of his duties as a ruler of the people not unworthy of a Christian 'potentate.' 'Nor,' Mr. Kaye adds, do I believe that he ever changed his opinion.' Nothing could have been more honourable than the reception of the British mission. Dost Mohammed evidently desired an alliance with England, and expressed his willingness to agree to the wishes of our government. Indeed, even when visited by an agent from Russia, with large offers, he still held to his preference of an English alliance.

Meanwhile, Lord Auckland had retired to Simlah, where our governors-general, surrounded by irresponsible advisers, settle 'the destiny of empires without the aid of their legitimate 'counsellors,' and in company with his secretaries,-the chief of whom, William Hay Macnaghten, eventually paid dearly for his mistaken views, he, with that yieldingness of purpose which was the chief error of his government, allowed himself to be persuaded to forego alliance with the powerful ruler of the Afghans, and to attempt to place on the throne of Caubul the dependent on English bounty, who had thrice been driven back from his hereditary dominions, and whose only claim to support was that right-so often scouted by England, as the records of her own proud history show,-mere legitimacy.' The full extent of the folly, indeed the injustice, of this step, was not, however, as yet determined upon. It is evident that Lord Auckland, at this early stage, had not grasped the grand but perilous idea, of sending a British army into the fastnesses of Afghanistan to break down the dynasty of the Barukzyes, to set up a monarch of our own, and so roll back for ever the tide of western invasion;' he merely proposed an expedition to be undertaken by Runjeet Singh and Shah Soojah into Caubul, the British government supplying a certain number of officers, and, of course, the requisite money.

It was with unfeigned regret that Dost Mohammed perceived that all his efforts to secure the goodwill of the British authorities were in vain. He held council after council with Burnes, from whose unmutilated letters we find much that tells very favourably for the uprightness of this ruler by the might of his own mind. At length he wrote to Lord Auckland, almost in language of humility, to remedy the grievances of the Afghans, and to give them a little encouragement and power. This was the last despairing effort of the Afghan chief to conciliate the British government; but it was in vain, and Burnes departed from Caubul to make way for the triumphant entry of the agent from Russia. A mission was now dispatched to Runjeet Singh, and to the pensioner Shah Soojah, offering them aid in their invasion of Afghanistan, aid which was but reluctantly accepted.

THE ARMY OF THE INDUS.

227

But these moderate views were about to be expanded into a 'political scheme of far wider scope and significance,' and which probably originated with John Colvin, Lord Auckland's private secretary, the raising of the army of the Indus. To this plan, both Captain Wade and Burnes,-men well acquainted with Afghanistan, were opposed, though on different grounds, and although the latter subsequently accompanied the army to Caubul, he ever doubted its success. Sir Henry Vane, at this time commander of the forces in India, however, flung his weight into the opposite scale, and the order for assembling the army of the Indus went forth.

The proclamation of the governor-general appeared on the 1st of October, a document which, if not a collection of falsehoods, was a most disingenuous perversion of truth.' It is, indeed, astonishing to think that honourable men should have concocted such a tissue of unfounded statements, especially in regard to Dost Mohammed, as this declaration presents. Singularly enough, as though to prove more forcibly the mere hollow pretences upon which an expedition of such magnitude rested, the siege of Herat, a grievance brought prominently forward as a chief ground for taking up arms, was actually raised, and the Persian army were quietly retreating, even before the Simlah manifesto' had circulated throughout India. Thus the legitimate object of the expedition was gone, and all that remained 'was usurpation and aggression.' We have gone over this earlier portion of the narrative of this disastrous war more at large, because, while the circumstances of the retreat of that doomed army are familiar to every one, few are aware of the reckless pertinacity, and wilful contempt of truth and justice, which led to its assembling in such imposing array at Feroze pore.

Little did the leaders, and as little did the actors, foresee the dark future, when the governor-general of India, surrounded by 'fair women and brave men,' welcomed his trusty ally,' the old lion of the Punjab, that fine November morning. Here is a graphic picture—

'A noble guard of honour lined the way, as, amid the roar of artillery and the clang of military music, Runjeet Singh, escorted by the English secretaries and some of the principal officers, rode up in the centre of a line of elephants to the Durbar tent. The governor

general and commander-in-chief came forth to meet them. Then came the crush of the two lines of elephants, urged forward by the goads of their drivers, and meeting with a terrific shock-the clangour of a tumultuous crowd of Sikh horsemen and footmen-a rush of English officers eager to see the show; and presently, amidst such tumult and such noise as had seldom before been seen or heard,

the elephants of the governor-general and the Maharajah were brought side by side, and Lord Auckland, in his uniform of diplomatic blue, was seen to take a bundle of crimson cloth out of the Sikh howdah, and it was known that the lion of the Punjaub was then seated on the elephant of the English ruler. In a minute the little, tottering, one-eyed man, who had founded a vast empire on the banks of the fabulous rivers of the Macedonian conquests, was leaning over the side of the howdah, shaking hands with the principal officers of the British camp, as their elephants were wheeled up beside him. Then the huge phalanx of elephants was set in motion again. There was a rush towards the Durbar tent; the English and the Sikh cortege were mixed up together in one great mass of animal life. Such was the crush, such was the struggle, that many of the attendant Sikhs believed there was a design to destroy their old decrepit chief, and began to blow their matches, and grasp their weapons, with an air of mingled distrust and ferocity. But in time a passage was made, and the imbecile little old man was seen tottering into the Durbar tent, supported on the one side by the governorgeneral, and on the other by Sir Henry Vane, whose fine manly proportions and length of limb, as he forced his way through the crowd, presented a strong contrast to the puny chief who leaned upon his arm.'-Vol. i. pp. 373, 374.

The Maharajah was received with every honour by the ladies there, and then he was led to inspect the splendid presents which were offered as the price of his alliance. Singularly enough, while contemplating the specimens of British ordnance, the old tottering chief stumbled over a pile of shells, and fell prostrate before the British guns,-an emphatic omen of ill to the Sikh empire that was, ere long, to fall before the British guns at Goojrat. The visit was returned on the morrow by Lord Auckland, and a grand display of the military resources of the two nations closed the scene of splendour, and ten days after the Bengal army moved onward, encumbered by thousands upon thousands of baggage-laden camels, and making up, with the multitudinous followers of the camp, one of those 'immense moving cities which are only to be seen when an 'Indian army takes the field, and streams into an enemy's 'country.'

Ere long, as the vast multitude pressed onward, provisions became scarce, desertions increased, and the cattle fell sick. As they advanced farther, they entered the sandy deserts where no 'green pasture met the eye, and no sound of water spoke to the "ear. Still they toiled onward, while the green springing crops were purchased for the horses, and bread was weighed out to the men in diminished rations. At the close of April, Shah Soojah, supported by Macnaghten and surrounded by British

SHAH SOOJAH ENTERS CAUBUL.

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bayonets, arrived at Candahar, receiving a cold recognition from its inhabitants. Ghuznee next, under the cannon of Dennie and Sale, opened her gates to her 'legitimate' sovereign, while Dost Mohammed prepared to send an embassy to the British camp, offering submission to the Shah, but claiming the hereditary office of Wuzeer. This temperate offer was rejected, and Dost Mohammed marched forth to meet the invaders at Urgundeh. But there was treachery in his camp, and scarcely a true man was left in the ranks. What could the Ameer do?

In the hour of adversity, when all were false, he was true to his own manhood. Into the midst of his perfidious troops he rode, with the Koran in his hand, and there called upon his followers not to forget that they were true Mohammedans. He besought them to make one stand like brave men and true believers. You have eaten my salt,' said he, these thirteen years; if you resolve to seek a new master, grant me but one favour, enable me to die with honour.' The noble, spirit-stirring appeal was vainly uttered; few responded to it, for there was scarcely a true heart left. With despairing eyes he looked upon his recreant followers . . . . he felt he was surrounded by traitors and cowards, who were willing to abandon him to his fate. The first bitter pang over, he resumed his serenity of demeanour, and, addressing himself to the Kuzzilbashes, formally gave them their discharge. He then dismissed all who were inclined to purchase safety by tendering allegiance to the Shah, and with a small handful of followers, leaving his guns still in position, turned his horse's head toward the Hindoo-Koosh.'-pp. 453, 454.

And now the rejected and long exiled 'legitimate' ruler of the Douranee empire appeared before the walls of Caubul, and, conspicuous on a white charger, with coronet, girdle, and bracelets blazing with jewels, took his way to the Bala Hissar, from whence, thirty years before, he had been driven. But the inhabitants stared listlessly at the pageant; for there were 'the white-faced kings of Afghanistan,' Macnaghten and Burnes, beside him; and there were the infidel soldiers, to whom the Mohammedan sovereign owed his throne; and then, amidst all these royal jewels, one was missing, and that one was believed to be the sign and pledge of prosperous rule-the Koh-i-noor. No doubt its absence suggested strange reminiscences of the king's ' eventful past.' Perhaps the only person who felt unmixed satisfaction that day was Shah Soojah, who, when he reached the palace where his childhood had passed, and from whence he had been exiled so many long years, broke into a paroxysm of childish delight, and went through the well-remembered apartments and gardens with the eager joy of boyhood. Another exile, still longer a stranger to the home of his youth and