[January-September: 1840.]

The Great Game in Central Asia—The Russian Expedition to Khiva—Apprehensions of Burnes—Colonel Stoddart—Affairs on the Hindoo-Koosh—Failure of the Russian Expedition—Conduct of the Sikhs—Herat and Yar Mahomed—Mission of Abbott and Shakespear—Disturbances in the Ghilzye Country—Fall of Khelat—Arthur Conolly.

The King and the Envoy spent the winter at Jellalabad. There was something like a lull in Afghanistan. When the snow is on the ground the turbulence of the Afghans is wont to subside.[24] The time was favourable for the consideration of revenue matters, and Macnaghten began to inquire into the expenditure and the resources of the kingdom. The inquiry was not a satisfactory one. It was obvious that the government could be carried on only by the extraction of large sums from the treasury of India; and Macnaghten was continually urging the Supreme Government to authorise the expenditure of these large sums of money, and continually exhorting the authorities in the north-western provinces to send him all the treasure they could spare.

But there was much in the state of our foreign relations at this time to distract the thoughts of the minister from the affairs of the home department. The Russian question was now forcing itself again upon our Indian statesmen. Even before the Court turned its back upon Caubul, tidings had been received, in the first instance from Pottinger at Herat, which left little room to doubt that a Russian force was about to set out from Orenburgh on an expedition into Central Asia. The immediate object of this movement was to threaten the state of Khiva, which had long been throwing obstacles in the way of Russian commerce, and carrying off Russian subjects into hopeless captivity. Russia had been prosecuting an extensive trade with the countries of Central Asia; but the state of Khiva which borders on the country occupied by the Kerghiz Cossacks, was now declared by the Russian Government to be “daily harassing the wandering tribes that encamp on our frontiers, interrupting the intercourse the other states of Asia keep up with us, detaining the caravans of Bokhara on their way to and from Russia, obliging them to pay extravagant duties, and compelling them by main force to pass through its territory, and there seizing a considerable portion of their merchandise.” “These insults to foreigners, holding commercial intercourse with Russia, are, however,” continues the Russian state-paper—the manifesto of the Government of the Czar, declaring the grounds of their expedition into Central Asia—“of less importance than the attacks which have been made on Russian caravans. Not one of these can now cross the desert without danger. It was in this manner that a Russian caravan from Orenburgh, with goods belonging to our merchants, was pillaged by the armed bands of Khiva. No Russian merchant can now venture into that country without running the risk of losing his life or being made a prisoner. The inhabitants of Khiva are constantly making incursions into that part of the country of the Kerghiz which is at a distance from our lines, ... and to crown all these insults, they are detaining several thousand Russian subjects in slavery. The number of these unfortunate wretches increases daily, for the peaceful fishermen on the banks of the Caspian are continually attacked and carried off as slaves to Khiva.”

Here were plainly and intelligibly set forth the injuries committed by the state of Khiva against the subjects of the Russian Government, and the grounds on which the latter called for redress. Every attempt, it was stated, to obtain satisfaction for these wrongs, by reason and persuasion, had failed. It was necessary, therefore, to resort to more decisive measures. “Every means of persuasion,” continued the manifesto, “has now been exhausted. The rights of Russia, the security of her trade, the tranquillity of her subjects, and the dignity of the state, call for decisive measures; and the Emperor has judged it to be time to send a body of troops to Khiva, to put an end to robbery and exaction, to deliver those Russians who are detained in slavery, to make the inhabitants of Khiva esteem and respect the Russian name, and finally to strengthen in that part of Asia the lawful influence to which Russia has a right, and which alone can insure the maintenance of peace. This is the purpose of the present expedition; and as soon as it shall be attained, and an order of things conformable to the interests of Russia and the neighbouring Asiatic states shall be established on a permanent footing, the body of troops which has received orders to march on Khiva will return to the frontiers of the empire.”

The casus belli was here laid down with sufficient distinctness, and the facts stated in the manifesto were not to be denied. But it was believed that Russia had other objects in view than the liberation of her slaves and the safety of her commerce; and that if the British army had not occupied Afghanistan, this manifesto would not have been issued by the Czar. It was regarded, indeed, as a counter-movement called forth by our own advance; and candid men could allege nothing against it on the score of justice or expediency. There was something suspicious in the time and manner of its enunciation. But there was less of aggression and usurpation in it than in our own manifesto. The movement was justified by the law of nations. There was outwardly something, indeed, of positive righteousness in it, appealing to the best instincts of our nature. And, if there were behind all this outside show of humanity a politic desire to keep in check a rival power, that was now intruding in countries far beyond its own line of frontier, it can only be said that our own movement into Afghanistan was directed against a danger of the same kind, but of much less substantial proportions.

But the expedition of Russia into Central Asia excited the alarm of our statesmen in Afghanistan, though it did not rouse their indignation. There was, at all events, in it much food for anxious consideration. It was the one great subject of thought and topic of discussion in the winter of 1839-1840. Burnes, who was left in control at Caubul, whilst Macnaghten was with the Shah at Jellalabad, now, with the snow around him, found himself in the enjoyment of a season of comparative leisure, able both to think and to write. “What a year has been the past,” he wrote to a friend at Bombay, on the 19th of November—“not to me, I mean, but to our affairs in the East. Further submission to what was going on, and our days of supremacy in the East, were numbered. As it is, we have brought upon ourselves some additional half-million of annual expenditure, and, ere 1840 ends, I predict that our frontiers and those of Russia will touch—that is, the states dependent upon either of us will—and that is the same thing.... Every week brings fresh business; and all the world will now have it that Russia has advanced on Khiva. What of that? She has the right to relieve her enslaved countrymen; and if she have the power, why should she have so long hesitated? But the time she has chosen for this blow is an awkward one. I hold, however, that the man who recommends the cantonment of a British or an Indian soldier west of the Indus is an enemy to his country.”[25]

After the lapse of a month, Burnes wrote again to another correspondent, more emphatically, on the same subject:

Less heavily on Macnaghten’s mind sate the thought of this Russian invasion. Other and nearer sources of inquietude troubled him at this time. In whatsoever direction he turned his eyes, he was glared at by some great trouble. Everything was going wrong. At Herat, Yar Mahomed was playing a game of unexampled treachery. In the remote regions of Central Asia, a British envoy was groaning under the tyranny of the unscrupulous Ameer of Bokhara. Nearer home, the measures of the double government in Afghanistan were beginning to bear their own bitter fruits. At Candahar, the Douranees were chafing under the exactions of unpopular revenue-officers. In the Kohistan, already were those, who had revolted, in a critical hour, against Dost Mahomed, and contributed largely to his expulsion from Afghanistan, sighing for his return. And further down towards the South, the country which we had made the burial-place of Mehrab Khan, was breaking out into rebellion against the authority which we had attempted to establish; while the Sikhs, to whom we had conceded so much, our associates in the Tripartite Treaty, were unscrupulously intriguing against us.

All these things were against him. It was plain that he was among a people of a very different stamp from those with whom he had been connected throughout the earlier years of his administrative career. There was much to disquiet his mind, to engage his thoughts, and to occupy his time. One after another he passed in review before him all the difficulties which beset his path; but there was nothing that pressed more heavily on his mind, or which seemed to arouse him into intenser action, than the outrages to which Colonel Stoddart had been subjected at Bokhara.

Stoddart had been at Bokhara ever since the close of the year 1838. He had been despatched by Mr. M’Neill to that Court, with instructions to obtain the liberation of all the Russians pining there in captivity, and to conclude a friendly treaty with the Ameer. His reception, though marked by some caprice, was not altogether uncourteous. He was very ignorant of the customs of the country, and was inclined to resent as insults the exaction of formalities in accordance with the ordinary usages of Bokhara. He seems to have made no effort to win the favour of the barbarous monarch by the adoption of a conciliatory demeanour; but somehow or other he scrambled through the first ceremonials without giving the Commander of the Faithful any mortal offence.

But it would appear that he soon excited the bitter enmity of the Reiss, or minister. His letters had been addressed to the predecessor of this man. The old minister had been disgraced whilst Stoddart was on his way to Bokhara, and the new man was little inclined to regard with favour the Feringhee who had sought the protection of the old. In a very short time, Stoddart, having been invited to the residence of the Reiss, was suddenly seized, thrown to the ground, bound with cords, and threatened with death by the minister himself, who stood over him with a long knife. He was then carried out, on a dark rainy night, into the streets, hurried from place to place, by torchlight, and at last lowered down by ropes into a dark well, swarming with the most nauseous vermin, to be the companion of murderers and thieves. In this wretched dungeon, weakened both in body and in mind by long-continued suffering, he consented outwardly to conform to the ceremonials of the Mahomedan faith.

After two months of extreme suffering, Stoddart was released from this dreadful dungeon. The chief officer of police then received him into his house; and from this time, throughout the year 1839, though subject to the caprices of a tyrannous monarch and an unscrupulous minister, and the insults of barbarians of less note, his condition on the whole was bettered. The success of the British in Afghanistan seemed for a time to awaken the Ameer to a just sense of the power of the British nation, and Stoddart rose into importance at the Bokhara Court, as the agent of a powerful state, capable of exercising a mighty influence over the destinies of Central Asia. But the caprices of this barbarous potentate were great. The smiles of to-day were followed by the cruelties of the morrow. Stoddart continued a prisoner at Bokhara; and Macnaghten, sympathising with the sufferings of a brave officer, and eager to chastise the insolent barbarity of the petty Central-Asian tyrant, again contemplated the despatch of a brigade across the mountains of the Hindoo-Koosh.

It was necessary, however, to tread cautiously on this ground. There were more reasons than one why Macnaghten, at this time, turned his thoughts towards Bokhara. Dost Mahomed had sought an asylum at the Ameer’s Court.[27] The “Commander of the Faithful,” as this rude Mussulman potentate ostentatiously termed himself, received the fugitive with open arms. For a little while he lavished upon the fallen Prince all the benignities of oriental hospitality; and then laid his heavy hand upon him, and made him a prisoner.

“It seems certain that the Dost has got into bad odour at Bokhara,” wrote Macnaghten to Burnes, on the 20th of February, “and it is very improbable that the two Ameers-ool-Moomuneen will ever act cordially together.” It was the policy of our British diplomatists, at this time, to keep the two Ameers in a state of disunion and antagonism. But the very course which Macnaghten was disposed to pursue towards Bokhara, was that of all others which was most surely calculated to cement an alliance between them. A military expedition against Bokhara would, in all probability, have induced the Khan to release Dost Mahomed, and to supply him with the means of crossing the frontier at the head of an imposing body of fighting men, and, aided by the Wullee of Khooloom and other chiefs of the Oosbeg hill states, making an effort to regain his lost dominions. There was something, too, in the alleged cause of Dost Mahomed’s confinement at Bokhara, which made Macnaghten waver still more in his determination to send an army across the Hindoo-Koosh, and suggested to him the expediency of devoting himself to the furtherance of objects of another kind. It was said that the Ameer of Bokhara was greatly incensed by Dost Mahomed’s practical refusal to summon his family to that city. They had remained under the charge of Jubbar Khan, in the hospitable territory of the Wullee of Khooloom; and it was reported that the Khan of Bokhara had declared, that if they sought the protection of the British Government, he would destroy Dost Mahomed. But Jubbar Khan was well disposed at this time to seek from the British an honourable asylum for his brother’s family; and the question of their reception was earnestly pondered by Macnaghten, and discussed with the Shah. In the middle of February, he wrote to Burnes, from Jellalabad, that although common hospitality required that an asylum should not be refused to persons “in so distressed a plight as the Dost’s family;” but that, at the same time, common prudence required that in the exercise of this office of humanity, we should not expose ourselves to the machinations of perfidious enemies. He suggested therefore, that Dr. Lord, in reply to any request on the subject, should say that a safe and honourable asylum would be granted to the Ameer’s family on condition of their residing wherever our government might think proper to locate them.

But stolid, selfish, and remorseless towards his enemies, Shah Soojah was not easily to be persuaded that either humanity or policy demanded that he should grant an asylum or a maintenance to Dost Mahomed’s family, and declared that nothing short of absolute force would induce him to contribute a rupee towards their support. The vicissitudes of his past life had only hardened the King’s heart, and often as he had sought an “asylum” himself, he had now, in the day of prosperity, no bowels of compassion for the fugitive and the suppliant. On the English envoy, however, the obduracy of Shah Soojah had little effect, and he still declared that the family of Dost Mahomed were entitled to kind and honourable treatment at our hands. This justice and humanity required, whilst it seemed also to Macnaghten to be sound policy to hold out every inducement to the Ameer to commit his family to our charge. In that case, he wrote to Burnes, the Shah of Bokhara could make no use of Dost Mahomed, and the objection to the movement into Toorkistan would be obviated. “Let us examine,” he added, “what we are to gain by such a movement, and upon what principles it should be conducted. The first thing to be gained is the punishment of the Shah of Bokhara, for his frequent and outrageous violation of the law of nations, and the release of our agent, Colonel Stoddart, who, without some exertion on our part, will, it is likely, be doomed to incarceration for life. I suppose the expedition to be conveniently feasible, if entered upon at the proper season of the year. What Timour Shah effected, we can do; and with proper arrangement we may either enlist on our side, or keep neutral, the chiefs between us and Bokhara. If we compelled the Shah of Bokhara to release Stoddart, to evacuate all the countries on this side of the Oxus, and to pay the expenses of the expedition, we should have achieved all that is desirable.”[28]

The Court remained at Jellalabad up to the third week of April; and the excursive mind of the Envoy was still wandering out in the wild regions beyond the Hindoo-Koosh. It was certain that a Russian army was advancing upon Khiva. In the country about Khooloom the adherents of Dost Mahomed were exciting against us the hostility of the Oosbegs. Jubbar Khan, with the Ameer’s family and a large party of retainers, were there. The petty chiefs beyond the mountains were in a state of doubtful vassalage, scarcely knowing whether they were subject to Herat or to Caubul; whether they would recognise the Khan of Bokhara or the Khan of Khiva as their suzerain; or whether they would be, in effect, independent of all.[29] It was desirable to annex these Cis-Oxus principalities to the territory of the Shah, to strengthen our frontier, and keep them out of the hands of the Bokhara ruler. Already was there a weak detachment wintering amid the inhospitable snows of Bameean. The despatch of a strong brigade to the country beyond was still among the cherished projects of the Envoy. Writing from Jellalabad, he turned his back upon the southern passes, and looking out across the northern Caucasian mountains, declared that it was easier to march on Bokhara than to subjugate the tribes of the Khybur. To the Governor of Agra he thus addressed himself on the 1st of April, “A brigade of ours, with a due proportion of artillery, would, I think, from all I have heard, be fully competent to overcome any opposition that could be offered to us between this and Bokhara. I do not think that we should incur the risk of the movement solely for the purpose of reannexing the Cis-Oxus provinces to the dominions of his Majesty Shah Soojah; though if they are not so re-annexed, Bokhara, at the instigation of Russia, will certainly assert a real supremacy. At present she has only Balkh and its dependencies, and her sway over that even is but nominal. But we cannot allow Dost Mahomed’s family to occupy so commanding a position as Khooloom, close to the Afghan frontier. And may not the contingency upon which the home authorities direct an advance, be said to have arisen should the Russians establish themselves in force at Bokhara?”[30]

It was, indeed, a great game on which Macnaghten was then intent—a game so vast that the subjugation of the Punjab and Nepaul was regarded as a petty contribution to its success. These grand schemes dazzled him, and he could not see the dangers which grew at his feet.

“I intend,” he wrote in the letter above quoted, “sending Arthur Conolly, who has joined me here, and Rawlinson on a mission to Kokan, with a view, if possible, to frustrate the knavish tricks of the Russe log in that quarter. Though there are doubtless many of the elements of mischief in this country, yet I should not apprehend any internal explosion, even if the greater portion of our troops were withdrawn. Depend upon it we shall never be at our ease in India until we have subjugated the Punjab and Nepaul; and the sooner we can come to a reckoning with our faithful allies the Singhs, the better. They are doing all they can to injure us in this quarter, and are comforting all the rebels and parties disaffected to his Majesty Shah Soojah. We should here have no difficulty in dealing with them in this quarter, and I will venture to say there would not be a disciple of Nanuk on this side the Indus a week after the declaration of hostilities.”

As the month advanced, the intelligence from the North was more and more calculated to rivet the opinion entertained by Burnes and others of the success of the Russian expedition,[31] and Macnaghten began to think that the danger was greater than he had once believed. “Unless,” he wrote at the end of April, “Lord Auckland act with vigour and promptitude to secure and open our rear, we shall soon be between two fires—if not under them. France and Russia are advancing with only the remote contingency of profit to stimulate them. We are supine, whilst our inactivity will probably be the cause of our ruin. France gratuitously supplies Persia with 30,000 muskets, at a time when Persia may be said to be at war with us. I cannot, though I have repeatedly and earnestly pressed my request, obtain a single musket.”

A fortnight after this letter was written, the Envoy proposed to Burnes that he should proceed on a mission to the Russian camp. “He said, he would willingly go if ordered—but that,” added Macnaghten, “is not the spirit which should animate our Elchee;” and the design was abandoned. It must have been very soon after this[32] that the glad tidings of the break-down of the Russian expedition reached the Court of Shah Soojah. The Envoy had spoken despondingly of the contemptible enemy which the Russian army had to encounter. But there was an enemy of which no account was taken—an enemy that had destroyed one of Napoleon’s finest armies, and which was doomed to overthrow utterly our own policy in Central Asia—spreading its toils around Peroffski’s advancing columns. The Snow was doing its work.

On the 13th of March, the failure of the expedition was announced in the public journals of St. Petersburgh, and Lord Clanricarde, on the same day, sent the intelligence to Lord Palmerston. The journals announced that the intense cold, the deep snow, and the inaccessibility of the country, had destroyed the camels, and compelled the army to retrace its steps. But the actual truth was worse than the newspaper history; for Peroffski’s ill-fated army had been attacked by pestilence and famine.

As the year wore on, Macnaghten’s difficulties seemed to thicken around him. The failure of the Russian expedition removed one source of inquietude; but it was a remote one. And nearer home, many great dangers were bristling up in his path. Still immersed, however, in foreign politics, the Envoy gave little heed to the domestic troubles which were environing him. His thoughts were continually ranging beyond the limits of Shah Soojah’s dominions; and whilst the edifice he had reared was falling to pieces by the force of its own innate corruptness, he was devising measures of external defence.

During the spring and the early summer months two subjects pressed urgently on his attention, and became the burdens of his discourse. The one was the conduct of the Sikhs; the other, the state of affairs at Herat. Ever since the death of Runjeet Singh, the temper of the Lahore Durbar had been such as to impress the Envoy strongly with the conviction that nothing but decisive measures would ever bring our allies to regard the terms of the Tripartite Treaty. The real ruler of the Punjab was the young and impetuous Prince, Nao Nehal Singh, who had almost set aside the authority of his imbecile father, and was longing for the day when he might take more openly and undisguisedly the sceptre into his hands. In every possible way our allies had evaded the stipulations of the treaty. They had rendered no effectual aid to Prince Timour in the operations which, conjointly with Wade, he had undertaken for the recovery of his father’s throne. They were making light of the obligation to support a contingent force of Sikh troops on the frontier, in return for the subsidy granted by the treaty; and proof had been afforded that they were engaged in treasonable correspondence with our enemies in Afghanistan. It is certain, at least, that they were harbouring at their frontier stations the rebel Ghilzye chiefs, who had been driven out of Shah Soojah’s territory, and suffering, if not aiding, them to return again to foment new disturbances. Sultan Mahomed Khan and his brothers at Peshawur were servants of the Maharajah, but they were Barukzyes still; and it was not strange that they regarded with undisguised satisfaction the clouds which were gathering over the restored Suddozye monarchy.

But more important still than these considerations, was the question which had now arisen regarding the free passage of our troops and convoys through the dominions of Lahore. It was obvious that we could not maintain our position in Afghanistan so long as the Punjab stood impassable between that country and Hindostan. But Nao Nehal Singh and the Kalsa viewed with insurmountable jealousy the passage of our armaments through the Punjab. They declared, that when Mr. Clark negotiated for a passage for the troops returning from the expedition into Afghanistan, the accorded permission was limited to that especial case, and was by no means intended to convey a general license for the repeated crossings and recrossings which now seemed to be in contemplation. But Macnaghten declared that it was absolutely necessary to “macadamise” the road though the Punjab; and the authorities at Calcutta began to think that a war with the Sikhs was no improbable event.

Parallel with these inquietudes arising out of the conduct of the Lahore Durbar and its agents, ran the troubles which weighed upon Macnaghten’s mind in connexion with the ill-omened aspect of affairs at Herat. The insolent ingratitude of Yar Mahomed had reached a pitch of sublime daring. The British Government were lavishing their treasures upon Herat; and the chief minister of Herat, in return for this support, was insulting the British officers, and intriguing with the Persian Court. It has been stated that in the month of June, 1839, Major D’Arcy Todd had been despatched on a special mission to Herat. He was instructed to conclude a treaty of friendship with Shah Kamran; to ascertain the causes of the dissatisfaction of the Heratee Court with the British Government; to conciliate the good will of Yar Mahomed, and to wean him from his Persian intrigues, by assuring him of our friendly disposition towards him, and of our desire to support his administration; to determine, if possible, the boundaries between Shah Kamran’s and Shah Soojah’s dominions; to aid the Heratee Government with money, and to strengthen the fortifications of the place. This accomplished, he was to have joined the Court of Shah Soojah, leaving Pottinger, whose authority he was not to have superseded, to carry on the ordinary duties of the Agency. But the young Bombay Artilleryman had availed himself of the occasion of Todd’s presence at Herat to obtain leave of absence, and visit the British provinces; and the latter had consented to remain in his place.

The task which had been entrusted to Major Todd he had performed, as far as such a task was one of possible performance, with no common address; and being a man of enlarged humanity, with a high sense of his duty as a Christian officer, he had exerted himself to render the presence of the British Mission at Herat a blessing to the oppressed and suffering people. But it was not possible to change the nature of Yar Mahomed; to make him either grateful or true. In the history of human infamy there is nothing more infamous than the conduct of this man. The treaty between the British Government and the state of Herat, by which the latter bound itself not to enter into negotiations with other states without the knowledge and consent of the British Resident, had only been signed a few weeks, when Yar Mahomed was detected in carrying on a correspondence with the Persian Asoof-ood-Dowlah at Meshed, offering to place himself and his country under the protection of the Persian Government, and inviting him to enter into a league for the expulsion of the infidel English from Afghanistan.

Up to this time eight lakhs of rupees had been advanced to the Heratee Government. When the new year dawned upon Herat, twelve lakhs had been so advanced. The utmost benefits had been conferred upon the state. The measures of our British officers had rescued “King, chiefs, and people from starvation.”[33] But at this very time a letter was addressed to Mahomed Shah of Persia, in the name of Shah Kamran, declaring the Heratee ruler to be the faithful servant of the Shah-in-Shah; and setting forth that he only tolerated the presence of the English because they were useful to him—that, in truth, they were not niggardly with their money; but that the hopes of his Majesty were in the asylum of Islam.

In explanation of this black-hearted treachery it is said that the apprehensions of Yar Mahomed had been excited by the imposing attitude of Great Britain in Afghanistan—that he looked upon the danger to be apprehended from the contiguity of the British army as something less remote and more alarming than the return of Mahomed Shah; and that it was his policy at this time to play off one state against another, and to secure the good offices of Persia, whilst openly receiving the bounties of Great Britain. This is, doubtless, the view in which the matter is to be regarded with reference to the case of Yar Mahomed, the statesman. He was not incapable of taking a statesmanlike view of the position of his principality. He understood the interests of Herat. But better still did he understand the interests of Yar Mahomed. The presence of the English officers at Herat was a burden and a reproach to the Wuzeer. He hated their interference; he had no sympathy with their high-toned notions of humanity—with their horror of slavery—with their compassion for the weak and oppressed. He had thriven best in bad times; he had found the sufferings of the people serviceable to him. The surveillance of the British Mission impeded the exercise of his arbitrary desire to enrich himself at the expense of his poorer countrymen. So he hated Pottinger; he hated Todd; he hated every high-minded Englishman. But he bore with them for their money. Todd’s measures were especially distasteful to him. The effort which he was making to break down the accursed slave-trade of Central Asia, was more obnoxious than everything beside.

Associated with Todd—an Artillery officer—were two other subalterns of Artillery—James Abbott and Richmond Shakespear. They were men of ability, of enthusiasm, and of high courage. Abbott’s mind was of a more imaginative and romantic cast than that of his associate, who had qualities of a more serviceable kind, more practical, and more judicious. Both were men sure to carry out any duty, however hazardous, entrusted to them, in a conscientious and intrepid manner. They were well inclined for any kind of personal adventure; and, ardent in the pursuit of knowledge, were eager to explore new countries, to mix with an unfamiliar people, and to visit uncivilised courts. When, therefore, Todd, acquainted with the menacing attitude which Russia had assumed towards the Court of Khiva, and the declared grounds of her Central-Asian expedition, recognised the expediency of despatching a British officer to the capital of the Khan Huzzrut, to mediate for the liberation of the Russian slaves in captivity there, he was fortunate in having at his elbow two men, to either of whom he might securely entrust the charge of a mission at once hazardous and delicate. In December, 1840, Abbott, who was the senior of the two, was hastily despatched to the Court of Khiva.[34] The Khivan ruler, then awaiting in alarm the approach of the Muscovite battalions, yet not altogether unsuspicious of the forward movements of the British, was well-inclined to receive the Mission; but Yar Mahomed had set at work the same dark intrigues which had caused Colonel Stoddart to be cast into captivity at Bokhara, and was doing his best to thwart the humane efforts of the British artilleryman. He seems to have had an instinctive hatred of men who were exerting themselves to sweep away the foul slave-marts of Central Asia.

With deep and painful interest Macnaghten watched the progress of events at Herat. The perfidy of Yar Mahomed was so glaring—so unblushing—that the Envoy had not hesitated to recommend offensive proceedings against the state of Herat, to be followed by its re-annexation to the dominions of Shah Soojah. But Lord Auckland when the proposal first came before him, was disinclined to embrace it. He thought it better to forgive Yar Mahomed; and make a further experiment upon the gratitude of the Wuzeer. So, instead of an army, as Macnaghten eagerly recommended, a further supply of money was sent to Herat; and Yar Mahomed continued to intrigue with the Persian Government.[35]

It seemed to the Envoy, at this time, that there was no middle course to be pursued. All through our Central-Asian policy, indeed, there ran two substantive ideas. It was either the bayonet or the money-bag that was to settle everything for us. When Macnaghten found that the rulers of Herat were not to be dragooned into propriety, he declared that there was nothing left for us now but to bribe them. He proposed that a subsidy of two or three lakhs per annum should be granted to Herat; that guns, muskets, and ordnance stores in abundance should be furnished to the state; and in the meanwhile he continued to send up more treasure, with a profusion which startled the Calcutta Government, to be expended on the strengthening of its defences and the sustentation of the people.

But as the treachery of Yar Mahomed became more fully developed, the Governor-General began to mistrust the efficacy of the course of forbearance and conciliation which he had in the first instance recommended. He had authorised Major Todd to declare his forgiveness of all past offences, and was willing to enter upon a new covenant of friendship, ras tabulÂ, with the offending state. But he was not then acquainted with the fact of the letter to Mahomed Shah, in which, with almost unexampled shamelessness, the writer boasted of the cajolery practised upon the English, who lavished their money freely upon Herat, whilst its rulers were flinging themselves into the arms of Persia; for although that letter had been written in January, and came, therefore, within the margin of those offences for which forgiveness had been declared, it was not until some time afterwards that this crowning act of perfidy was discovered and laid bare before the Governor-General. Then it would seem that Lord Auckland began to waver in his resolution to maintain the independence of Herat. But he was at this time resident at Calcutta. Sir Jasper Nicolls,[36] who had held the chief command at Madras, an old and distinguished officer, who had done good service in the Nepaul war, and was possessed of an amount of Indian experience almost unexampled in an Indian Commander-in-Chief, was at the Presidency. The war in Afghanistan had been extremely distasteful to him from the beginning, and he now viewed with suspicion and alarm all the projects which were passing before him for the despatch of more troops and the diversion of more treasure from their legitimate purposes in Hindostan. No warlike promptings, therefore, from the military side of the Council Chamber, ever stimulated Lord Auckland to bury his legions in the inhospitable defiles of Afghanistan, or to waste the finances of India in insane attempts to change the nature of the chiefs and people of Central Asia, and to bribe them into quiescence and peace.

But ever was it the burden of Macnaghten’s letters, that he could do nothing with Afghanistan until Yar Mahomed and the Sikhs had been chastised; and Herat on the one side, and Peshawur on the other, re-annexed to the Douranee Empire. How strongly he felt on these points may be gathered both from the public and private letters which, in the summer of 1840, he despatched from Caubul to his correspondents in different parts of India and Afghanistan. “This,” he wrote to the Governor-General on the 20th of July, “if the means are available, appears to me the time for accomplishing the great work which your Lordship has commenced, and of effectually frustrating the designs of Russia. Herat should now be taken possession of in the name of Shah Soojah. To leave it in the hands of its present possessors, after the fresh proofs of treachery and enmity towards us which they have displayed, would, in my humble opinion, be most dangerous. Herat may be said to be the pivot of all operations affecting the safety of our possessions and our interests in the East, and thence Balkh and Bokhara would be at all times accessible. The Sikhs should no longer be suffered to throw unreasonable obstacles in the way of our just and necessary objects, and if they really feel (as they are bound by treaty to do) an interest in the success of our operations, they should not object to the passage of our troops, or even to their location in the Punjab, should such a measure be deemed conducive to the welfare of us both. Your Lordship will, I feel assured, forgive the freedom of these remarks. I am convinced that one grand effort will place the safety of our interests on a firm and solid basis.... I shall only add, that should offensive operations against Herat be undertaken, I should not entertain the smallest doubt of their complete and speedy success, especially as we should have many friends in the country.”[37] “We have a beautiful game on our hands,” he wrote in another letter, “if we have the means and inclination to play it properly. Our advance upon Herat would go far to induce the Russian government to attend to any reasonable overtures on the part of the Khan of Khiva.”

And so still was Macnaghten’s cry ever for more money and more bayonets, that he might play the “beautiful game” of knocking down and setting up kingdoms and principalities, with which it became us not to interfere, to the waste of the resources, and the sacrifice of the interests of those whom Providence had especially committed to our care.

In the meanwhile, in the dominions of Shah Soojah everything was going wrong. Macnaghten still professed his belief in the popularity of the King, and was unwilling to acknowledge that the people were not in a state of repose. But every now and then, both in Afghanistan itself, and in the country that had been wrested from Mehrab Khan, awkward evidences of the unsettled state of the country rose up to proclaim far and wide the fact, that there was little loyalty in men’s minds towards the Shah, and little affection for his foreign supporters. The Ghilzyes, whom in the preceding autumn Captain Outram had attacked, and, it was said, reduced, were now again rebelling in Western Afghanistan. The chiefs had fled to Peshawur, had been harboured there during the winter, and now, on the return of the spring, had been slipped from their retreat, strengthened, it was believed, by Sikh gold. At all events, in the month of April they were actively employed raising the tribes and cutting off our communications between Candahar and Caubul. General Nott had by this time assumed the command of the troops at the former place—a place with which his name has since become imperishably associated. Under-rating the strength of the “rebels,” as all were then called who did not appreciate the new order of things which the British had established in Afghanistan, he sent out a party of 200 horsemen, under Captains Walker and Tayler, to clear the road. But the detachment was not strong enough for the purpose. It was necessary to reinforce them. Nott had some good officers about him, but he had not one better than Captain William Anderson, of the Bengal Artillery, commandant of the Shah’s Horse Artillery at Candahar. So, on the 6th of May, the General sent for Anderson, and asked him whether he could prepare himself to march on the following morning, with a regiment of foot, four guns, and 300 horsemen. Anderson answered promptly that the artillery were always ready, and that he would do his best. By seven o’clock on the following morning the detachment was under arms and ready for the march. On the 14th they came up with Tayler and Walker, in the neighbourhood of the Turnuk river. The Ghilzyes were about eight miles distant, variously reported at from 600 to 3000 men. Anderson’s cattle were exhausted; so he halted, and to gain time, opened negotiations with the enemy. The answer sent back by the chiefs was a gallant one. They said, that they had 12,000 men—a firm faith in God and in the justice of their cause—and that they would fight. So Anderson prepared to attack them. Detaching his cavalry to the right and left, he moved down, on the 16th, with his infantry and his guns, and, after a march of some five miles, found the enemy about 2000 strong, occupying some hills in his front. The action was a gallant one on both sides. Twice the enemy charged. The first charge was repulsed by a heavy fire from Turner’s guns—the second was met at the point of the bayonet by Spence’s infantry. Anderson, after the first march from Candahar, beguiled by some accounts of the retirement of the enemy, had sent back the greater part of the cavalry with which he had started; so that he was weak in that arm. But for this, he would have cut up the enemy with heavy slaughter. As it was, the victory was complete. The enemy fled and betook themselves to their mountain fastnesses, whilst Anderson re-formed column and marched on to take up a good position above Olan Robat. The country around was quieted for a time by this victory; but disaffection was not rooted out. Indeed, every action of this kind only increased the bitter animosity of the Ghilzyes, and established unappeasable blood-feuds between our people and the tribes.

But the money-bag was now brought in to complete what the bayonet had commenced. It was expedient to conciliate the Ghilzyes, who had at any time the power of cutting off our communications between Candahar and Caubul; and Macnaghten, therefore, recommended the payment of an annual stipend to the chiefs,[38] on condition that they would restrain their followers from infesting the highways. But neither the bayonet nor the money-bag could keep these turbulent tribes in a continued state of repose.[39]

At the same time, the state of the southern provinces was such as to excite painful disquietude in Macnaghten’s mind. The tract of country which, after the capture of Khelat, had been annexed, by the fiat of the Indian Government, to the territory of Shah Soojah, was perpetually breaking out into fierce spasms of unrest. It had been almost entirely denuded of British troops; and small detachments were sent here and there, or solitary political agents sate themselves down, with only a handful of fighting men at command, as though all their paths were pleasantness and peace, and all their homes bowers of repose. But the Beloochees neither liked their new chief nor his European supporters. The blood of Mehrab Khan was continually crying out against the usurpation. Ever and anon opportunity offered, and it was not neglected. One officer,[40] on his way from the fort of Kahun with a convoy of camels, was overwhelmed and destroyed by the Beloochees. Kahun was invested by the Murrees. Quettah was besieged by the Khaukurs.[41] It was soon apparent that the whole country was in revolt. The youthful son of Mehrab Khan was in the field. The tribes were flocking around him. The chief who had been set up in his place was at Khelat. Lieutenant Loveday was with him. The defences of the place were miserably out of repair. The garrison mainly consisted of the chief’s own people. There were scarcely any means of resistance at their command, when the wild tribes, headed by the family of Nussur Khan, came crowding around the walls of Khelat. The new chief was staunch and true. But there were traitors and evil counsellors in the fort, and Loveday listened to bad advice. No succours could be sent to his relief, for our other positions in Upper Sindh were threatened by the hostile tribes. And so it happened that, after some days of beleaguerment, Khelat fell to the Brahoo chiefs.[42] Newaz Khan abdicated in favour of the youthful son of the prince who had fallen in the defence of his stronghold; Loveday was made a prisoner; and when some months afterwards, a detachment of British troops advanced to the relief of Dadur, which had been attacked by the enemy, the unfortunate young officer was found in the deserted camp of the Brahoos, chained to a camel-pannier, half naked, emaciated, and dead. His throat had just been cut by the sabre of a Beloochee horseman.[43]

But in spite of all these indications of unrest——these signs of the desperate unpopularity of the restored monarchy——Macnaghten clung to the belief that the country was settling down under the rule of Shah Soojah, and never ceased to represent to Lord Auckland and his secretaries that there were no grounds for uneasiness or alarm. He was, indeed, most anxious to remove any impressions of an opposite character which may have forced themselves upon the minds of the Governor-General and his advisers. On the 8th of July he wrote to Mr. Colvin, saying; “You tell me that my letter has left a very painful impression upon you, as manifesting my sense of the weakness of the royal cause. I fear I must have written my mind to very little purpose regarding the state of this country. You rightly conjecture that the Barukzyes have most ‘inflammable material to work upon.’ Of all moral qualities, avarice, credulity, and bigotry, are the most inflammable, and the Afghans have all these three in perfection. They will take Sikh gold, they will believe that Shah Soojah is nobody, and they will esteem it a merit to fight against us. When, in addition to these inducements, there has been positively no government in the country for the last thirty years, it will cease to be wondered at that commotion can easily be raised by intriguers possessing a long contiguity of frontier, and having, besides, all the means and appliances to ensure success. Though our presence here, doubtless, strengthens Shah Soojah, it must be remembered that in some sense it weakens him. There is no denying that he has been supported by infidels; and were we not here, he would adopt Afghan means of suppressing disturbances such as we could not be a party to. To break faith with a rebel is not deemed a sin by the most moral Afghan; and assassination was an every day occurrence. By the encouragement of blood-feuds, it is notorious that Dost Mahomed propped up the little power he had beyond the gates of Caubul.”[44]

It vexed Macnaghten’s spirit to think that he could not infuse into other British officers in Afghanistan some of his own overflowing faith in the popularity of the Shah, or his own respect for the royal person. From the very outset of the campaign the popular feeling throughout the army had been strong against Shah Soojah, and the conduct of his Majesty himself had not tended to lessen it.[45] And the worst of it was, that all kinds of stories about the haughty exclusiveness of the Shah, and the low estimation in which he was held both by the British officers and by his own subjects, were perpetually making their way to Government House, and there finding ready acceptance. It irritated Macnaghten to receive letters from Colvin, commenting on failure, and hinting at mismanagement in Afghanistan. At last his patience gave way, and on the 4th of August he wrote to the Private Secretary, bitterly complaining of the attention paid by Government to the stories of persons afflicted with the “imposthume of too much leisure,” who, he said, were daily fabricating the grossest falsehoods against his Majesty and the authorities, as the supposed cause of their detention in a land “not overflowing with beer and cheroots.” “The Shah,” he added, “is conciliatory in the extreme to all his chiefs. He listens with the greatest patience to all their requests and representations, however unreasonable, and he cannot bear to give any of them a direct refusal on any occasion. You have been told that he is a ruler who seeks to get on ‘without trusting, rewarding, or punishing’ any of his own people. It is nonsense upon the face of it, and is contradicted by every hour’s experience. I have nothing more to say about his Majesty’s character than I have already said. I believe him to be the best and ablest man in his kingdom. The history of the revenues of this poor country may be given in a few words. The whole is consumed in the pay of the priesthood, the soldiery, and the support of his Majesty’s household. You shall have the particulars of these as soon as I can get half an hour’s leisure. You know we are solemnly bound to refrain from interference in the internal administration; and, in my advice, I have been cautious to urge no innovations which could, at this early stage of our connection with them, shock the prejudices of the people.”

“And now, my dear Colvin,” continued the vexed envoy, “you must allow me to disburden my mind to you. I have perceived, or fancied I perceived, on several occasions lately, a want of confidence in my proceedings, and a disposition to listen to every unfavourable report regarding affairs in this quarter; whilst I do not receive that support to which the overwhelming difficulties of my position entitle me.” He then adverted to a controversy which, he said, had been “thrust upon him” by Brigadier Roberts, who commanded the Shah’s force. There had been from the first a jealousy, almost amounting to a conflict of authority, between the envoy and the brigadier. It was often difficult to observe the just frontier-line between the military and the political, and each had chafed under the supposed interference of the other. The soldier, whose imagination did not colour affairs in Afghanistan with the roseate hues which flushed everywhere the future of the civilian, was regarded as an intrusive alarmist; whilst to Roberts it appeared, on the other hand, that the sanguine temperament of the envoy, was likely to be the parent of a host of evils which might culminate in some frightful disaster. The controversy had been brought to the notice of the Governor-General, rather in the shape of private or demi-official correspondence than in a formal appeal to the higher authority; and Lord Auckland, who still looked forward to the entire withdrawal of the regular troops from Afghanistan, and was, therefore, anxious to support the functionary on whom would then devolve the chief military command, ordered an official letter to be written containing some passages which stung the envoy to the quick.[46] Believing, then, that the Governor-General had withdrawn his confidence from him, he talked of resigning his appointment. “If no important operations,” he wrote to the Private Secretary, “should be contemplated for next year in this quarter, for the conduct of which it may be thought desirable that I should remain, some of the public money will be saved by the appointment of a less-paid though equally qualified agent. I never yet have served in an office where I had not the confidence of my superiors, and my inclination to do so is by no means strengthened after a laborious public life of thirty-one years.”

He was sore in spirit at this time because, as he said, his actions were watched and his measures criticised, and letters written to Calcutta, setting forth that things were not going on well in Afghanistan. He complained that the Governor-General was too willing to listen to all the stories which reached him from uncertain sources of information, and he looked upon Lord Auckland’s reasonable credulity as unreasonable want of confidence in him. “I am much obliged to you,” he wrote to a friend in August, “for the kind hint contained in your last. I should never for a moment think of resigning my post from any difference of opinion between myself and my superiors, as to the measures which should be adopted for the security of our interests in this quarter; but when a want of confidence is shown in myself personally, I would rather not wait till I get a less equivocal hint to move. Of late, I find that there has been kept up a system of espionage on my proceedings, and that the most ready credence has been afforded to the malevolent tales of every idle fellow about camp, to say nothing of newspaper fabrications, which are taken for gospel. I cannot well help myself as to my correspondents, for Colvin evidently writes to me with the sanction of the Governor-General.”

But above all these petty cares and distractions rose the one dominant thought in Macnaghten’s mind, of the great and beautiful game that was to be played by the annexation of Herat and the coercion of the Sikhs; and still he continued to write to Lord Auckland that there was nothing else to be done. One letter of many will suffice to show how this leading idea still overbore everything in his mind:—

“We are now arrived at a crisis which calls for the most serious consideration. If such a course should suit the convenience of government, I should say that a vigorous policy now is that which ought to be pursued. It is, indeed, in my opinion, by such a course alone that our interests can be secured, and your Lordship’s past policy justified. By annexing Herat to the crown of Caubul, and by insisting upon the concession of our rights from the ruler of the Punjab, your Lordship will at once provide for the consolidation of Shah Soojah’s power, and show to the world that the attainment of all the advantages contemplated from the movement across the Indus, has been hitherto opposed only by the perfidious intrigues of the two powers professing to be our friends and allies. In addition to the demands already made upon the Sikhs, they should be required, I think, to admit unequivocally our right of way across the Punjab, and in the event of their denying this right, they should be convinced that we can take it. I confess myself utterly ignorant of what political objections may exist to this course of proceeding, or of the military means that may be available; and I am much staggered at a paper which I have just seen from Captain Sanders, who talks of its being expedient to take 12,000 men against Herat. I believe, however, that military authorities seldom underrate the difficulties to be encountered. This paper will, I believe, be sent to your Lordship by Sir W. Cotton. I have a proposition from Captain Bean to recognise the right of Mehrab Khan’s son to the musnud of Khelat. This I think might be done, if he would come and pay homage in person to Shah Soojah, as Shah Narwaz can never be re-instated. But I shall tell Captain Bean to keep the question open if possible, until I know your Lordship’s views regarding Herat. If it be intended to send a large force into the country with a view of reducing Herat, the Khelat affair will afford an excellent screen to our intentions. I must beg your Lordship most earnestly, if possible, to relieve the two European and five Native regiments now in this neighbourhood. They are inefficient and worn out, and both officers and men are grumbling and discontented. In the present state of affairs it would be very hazardous to admit of their return, unless their places were filled by fresh troops, and a relief would enable us to settle with promptitude the Bajor affairs, and to place our relations with the Khyburees on a firmer basis. Then, should Dost Mahomed come in, he will have to be be sent to India, and in the present state of Sikh feeling, I doubt if it would be prudent to send him across the Punjab with only a regiment for his escort. We have a rumour very generally credited, that Colonel Stoddart has been poisoned by the Ameer of Bokhara, but I yet hope that it will prove incorrect. On the Ghilzye affairs alluded to in your Lordship’s letter of the 16th, I have this day written to Mr. Colvin. In a day or two it is my intention to send up officially, with my comments, a paper handed to me by Sir A. Burnes, on the present state and future prospects of this country. I hope to show that, all things considered, we are in as prosperous a condition as could have been expected. Sir A. of course wishes to prove the contrary, since by doing so, when he succeeds me, his failures would thus find excuse and his success additional credit. This is all natural enough. I have been exposed to a thousand interruptions whilst writing this, and beg pardon if I have used too much freedom.”[47]

In a letter despatched a few days afterwards to Lord Auckland, Macnaghten wrote: “I trust the Russians may not come to Khiva this year, for we have quite enough on our hands without them. Captain Conolly starts in a few days. I trust your Lordship will have the goodness to direct that both he and Captain Abbott be gazetted as lieutenant-colonels whilst serving in Toorkistan.” There had gone forth a mission—and an ill-omened one, to Bokhara—there had gone forth two missions to Khiva—and now one was to be despatched to the intervening state of Kokund.

Eagerly did Arthur Conolly grasp the idea of this Kokund mission. He was a man of an earnest, impulsive nature, running over with the purest feelings of benevolence, and glowing with the most intense longings after the civilisation and evangelisation of the human race. He believed that the great Central-Asian movement was designed by Providence to break down the huge walls of Mahomedanism which begirt the shining East, and to substitute civilisation, liberty, and peace, for barbarism, slavery, and strife. He was a visionary, but one of the noblest order; and when he looked out beyond the great barrier of the Hindoo-Koosh, traversed in imagination the deserts of Merve, and visited the barbarous Courts of the Khans of Khiva, Kokund, and Bokhara, he never doubted for a moment that the mission which he was about to undertake was one of the highest and holiest with which a Christian officer could be entrusted. “I feel very confident,” he wrote to a friend, “about all our policy in Central Asia; for I think that the designs of our government there are honest, and that they will work with a blessing from God, who seems now to be breaking up all the barriers of the long-closed East, for the introduction of Christian knowledge and peace. It is deeply interesting to watch the effects that are being produced by the exertions of the European powers, some selfish and contrary; others still selfish, but qualified with peace and generosity; all made instrumental to good. See the French in Africa; the English, Austrians, and Russians on the Bosphorus, forcing the Turks to be European under a shadow of Mahomedanism, and providing for the peaceful settlement of the fairest and most sacred countries in the world.”[48]

Ever delighting in adventure, and prone to romance, he was at this time in a frame of mind which rendered him peculiarly greedy of excitement. A great sorrow was weighing heavily upon his heart. He sought relief in stirring occupation—in active adventure upon new scenes of enterprise; and when, for a time, it seemed that the unwillingness of the Supreme Government to sanction the mission was not to be overcome, he gave vent to the liveliest feelings of disappointment: “I was greatly disappointed,” he wrote to a dear friend on the 30th of May, “when Lord Auckland’s prohibitory letter arrived; for I had set my heart upon this nobly stirring employment; and when the chance of it seemed removed, I felt the blank that a man must feel who has a heavy grief as the first thing to fall back upon.”

Conolly and Rawlinson were to have proceeded together to the camp of General Peroffski. But the Muscovite expedition to Khiva was brought by cold and want to a mournful end at Ak-boulak, and there was soon no Russian camp in Central Asia to which these enterprising officers could be despatched, if the permission of Government had been obtained. But Conolly, believing in his inmost heart that there was a much grander game to be played in those remote regions than one suggested by the mere accidental circumstance of the Russian advance, still clung to his conviction of the policy of the contemplated Mission, and earnestly enforced his opinions upon his political chief. Macnaghten listened—yielded—and indulging rather the wishes of his friend than conforming to the dictates of his own judgment, recommended the enterprise to the favourable consideration of the Supreme Government; and acting upon certain passages in a letter from the Chief Secretary, which might be construed into an implied permission, of a general rather than a specific character, ordered Conolly to proceed to Khiva and Kokund.

It was with feelings of irrepressible delight, that now, at the beginning of August, Arthur Conolly found himself “fairly going” on his enterprising journey to the Courts of the Trans-Oxian Khans. His heart was in the cause. He was full of impetuous enthusiasm. He was eager that the British Government should play “the grand game” in Central Asia, and declared that a mission so righteous in its objects must prosper in his hands. His spirits rose, as he looked into the future; and, full of generous enthusiasm, he began to make preparations for his journey. “We are just on the wing,” he wrote to Rawlinson on the 22nd of August, “and I shall make the best of my way to the two capitals for which I carry credentials. It is a work which must prosper; and I only wish again that you were to be of the party to accomplish it; but, as I said before, you occupy a high and useful station, and can’t be at two places at once. If the British Government would only play the grand game;—help Russia cordially to all that she has a right to expect—shake hands with Persia—get her all possible amends from the Oosbegs, and secure her such a frontier as would both keep these man-stealers and savages in wholesome check, and take away her pretext for pushing herself and letting herself be pushed on to the Oxus—force the Bokhara Ameer to be just to us, the Afghans, and the other Oosbegs states, and his own kingdom—but why go on; you know my, at any rate in one sense, enlarged views. Inshallah! The expepediency—nay, the necessity of them will be seen, and we shall play the noble part that the first Christian nation of the world ought to fill.”

There were still, however, causes of delay. An ambassador from Shah Soojah was to accompany the British officer. But it was long before the King could select from the people about his Court one to whom he could entrust so responsible a duty. At last, after much hesitation, his choice fell upon Allahdad Khan Populzye—a little, scrubby-looking, sallow-faced man, with a busy look and a restless eye, believed to be skilful in political intrigue, and as little likely to betray his trust as any man about the Court. He left his family and his money behind him, and these, as the Shah significantly said, were the best guarantees for his good conduct.

Everything now was ready. Conolly, early in September, turned his face towards the Hindoo-Koosh. There was a mission of another kind then setting towards those dreary regions. It was not a Mission of Peace. Colonel Dennie, who had distinguished himself at the head of the Ghuznee stormers, was about to march, with the 35th Sepoy Regiment, to reinforce the Bameean detachment, and to take the command of all the the troops on the northern frontier.