In such frontier wars, one frequently leads to another. The Bhoteas had passively, if not actively, sympathised with their neighbours in the Sikkim campaign, and soon in their turn became troublesome. In 1864, therefore, an expedition formed in four columns, for which detachments of the 48th, 80th, and the artillery, together with a large force of native regiments, were detailed, invaded Bhotan, which is situated on the north-east frontier, and whose people are more nearly allied to the Thibetans than to the Hindus. There was but slight opposition to the left column at Dhalimcote. The fort was bombarded and stormed, but the enemy, armed with stones, matchlocks, and bows and arrows, did not await the assault. The fort of Dhumsong and most of the stockaded positions built to check the advance were abandoned without firing a shot, and a brief stand was made at Chamoorchee, after which the Deb Rajah wrote a somewhat remarkable letter to the following effect:—
“If you wish for peace, do not disturb our peasantry; it will be best for you to go back to your own country without doing any harm to ours. But if you will take possession of my country, which is small, without fighting, and attach it to your own kingdom, which is large, I shall send the divine force of twelve gods, as per margin, who are very ferocious ghosts. Of this force 7000 stop at Chamoorchee, 5000 at Durma, 9000 at Buxa, and 102,000 at Dhalim Dooar. You have done great injury to our country, and should not repeat it.”
The other column on the left of the general line of advance, under Colonel Watson, none the less took Buxa without the “ghosts” raising any objection; while one of the right columns reached Dewangiri and the Darungah Pass after a brief skirmish, and the other marched on Bishensing without meeting the enemy. The formal annexation of the country was ordered, and a chain of military posts fixed for the garrison of the country until its government had become settled. But the Bhotanese made a second bid for freedom in 1866, and there was some brisk fighting at Dewangiri, which was for a time practically invested, as the Darungah Pass was held by the enemy. Water was running short, and, seeing little hope of reinforcement, Colonel Campbell decided on retreating by the Libia Pass, and was compelled to abandon his guns on the march.
Attacks were made afterwards on all the hill posts from Dewangiri to Chamoorchee, at Bishensing, Buxa, and Tazagong, and it was evident that the force there was insufficient to quell the now extensive rising. More artillery, the 55th and 80th Regiments, and three native battalions, under General Tombs, C.B., V.C., were hurried up. This was to act on the right, the other troops under Fraser on the left wing, for the reconquest of the country; and when Balla, Buxa, and Chamoorchee were taken with but little fighting by Fraser, as well as the stockades in the Balader Pass, the Darungah Pass, and Dewangiri (where the enemy made an ineffective stand), the war practically ceased; though after these active hostilities it was found necessary to despatch a strong force to check a tendency to further disturbance, though there was no more fighting.
Nothing of any note occurred until 1872, when the introduction of tea-planting into Assam led to a considerable immigration of Europeans, and offered greater temptations to the Lushai hill tribes to make incursions into the richer districts at the foot of the mountains. As far back as 1840 these people had been troublesome, and a punitive expedition had been despatched in 1850; but numerous outrages and forays had occurred in 1862 and 1869, and the Indian Government at length decided on the suppression of the annoyance.
The country was to be invaded in two columns: the left, from Cachar, under Colonel Bouchier, was composed of native troops and Royal Artillery, and, though opposed, the loss was trifling. The march towards Lalboora was made by Mynadhur (the last tea plantation in Assam), Khotel, and Kalhi, where the enemy assembled in such numbers that it was deemed advisable to fall back to the post at the Tuibuin river, and, after some fruitless negotiations, hostilities were continued in a haphazard fashion at Pachin Poiboi and Chelam, but the small force was so much weakened by the numerous detachments that had to be left to hold the more important points seized, that on more than one occasion the main column ran serious risk of being overpowered by numbers. Fortunately the arms of the adversary were of no great value, being very old flintlock Tower-pattern smooth-bores, bows and iron-tipped arrows, spears, and a species of Burmese dah. The bullets were not cast, but beaten into shape. It is to this fact that the extremely small loss, even when the jungle fighting was at close quarters, must be attributed. Meanwhile the right column, starting from Chittagong, had been similarly employed, and finally the whole force assembled in the final stronghold of Lungvel, and, first hoisting the British flag there, burned the village and returned to India. The terms of peace were the payment of a small fine, and the admission of Government agents in their villages, whose chief mission was to prevent disturbances, and report if such were likely to occur.
In 1875 and 1877 troubles sprung up nearer the Afghan frontier with the Jowakis, a branch of the Afreedis, who had persistently raided the Peshawur Valley, and finally attached a British outpost. To burn villages and slay defenceless villagers was one thing, to lay violent hands on a wearer of the Queen’s uniform was far more serious. So the second battalion of the 9th Regiment accompanied a small expedition which effected its object with but little loss on either side, and indeed no resistance worthy the name was offered. But of all these frontier campaigns, that against the Afghans, 1878 to 1880, was far more serious and prolonged. It was not a war with a small tribe only, but with a nation, though even then that nation was built up of many semi-independent and wholly barbaric bodies, serving under their own chiefs. In the casus belli, history repeated itself exactly. Fear of Russian influence at Cabul, and the refusal of the Ameer Shere Ali to dismiss a Russian envoy, led to the declaration of war, this to the occupation of Cabul, that to the placing of a British Resident at the capital and his consequent murder, and then another “Army of Vengeance.” The sequence of events was much as in 1844.
Space fails to tell fully the story of this remarkable contest. Remarkable not merely for the bravery of the enemy, his extraordinary power of recuperation after a beating, which had something very British about it, his strong political patriotism for his mountain home, his passion for freedom from all alien domination, especially of the hated “Feringhi”; but also for the enormous difficulties presented by the frowning defiles of the mountain barrier which separates the basin of the Indus from the wide, secluded valley which runs from Cabul to Candahar. The British seem to have been peculiarly obnoxious to the people, for other reasons than that of faith. The Ameer, when he proclaimed a Jehad or holy war against us, struck, probably, the keynote as far as his people were concerned, when he said, “A foreign nation, without cause or the slightest provocation, has made up its mind to invade our country and conquer it.”
The first advance was made direct on Cabul by the Khyber Pass. The small fortress of Ali Musjid was attacked on the 21st November 1878, by the 51st and 81st European, and the 6th and 45th Native Regiments, and abandoned by the enemy after some sharp fighting; but many of the fugitives were stopped by the first battalion of the 17th in their retreat and taken prisoners. By the end of the year the head of this column was about Jellalabad. Coupled with this was the penetration of the Kurram Valley by the second column under General Roberts, which was composed of the 10th Hussars and 12th Bengal Cavalry, four batteries of artillery, the second battalion of the 8th, the Duke of Albany’s Highlanders, and many native regiments, to which were added, later, another battery of artillery, a squadron of the 9th Lancers, the 67th and 92nd, and more native cavalry and infantry battalions, raising the force by November 1878 to about 14,000 men. Advancing up the Kurram Valley to Fort Azim, which was garrisoned, the Afghan position on the Peiwar Kotal was attacked frontally by General Cobbe with a wing of the Gordons and other troops, and turned by the Spin Gawi Kotal with the 8th, the other wing of the Highlanders, and the 29th Native Infantry, with the 5th Ghoorkas. Finally, troops pushed on to Ali Kehl, which was garrisoned. Both these passes were held during the winter, and the troops, especially detachments, were frequently harassed by the semi-independent action of the hill tribes, rendering necessary punitive expeditions, such as those in the Khost Valley against the Mangals and Wazaris by Roberts’ force; and those against the Lughman tribes, north of Jellalabad, during which occurred the disaster to a squadron of the 10th Hussars, which, missing its way in crossing a ford on the Cabul river, lost forty-five men and one officer by drowning. Expeditions also on this side against the Khugranis led to fighting at Futtehabad and at Dehowink with the Afreedis. At the same period Sir Donald Stewart had occupied Candahar with but little opposition, and had also seized Khelat-i-Ghilzi and Girishk. There was much outrage, also in the Pishin and other valleys, both by the turbulent hill tribes and the dispersed or disbanded soldiery of the Amir.
By May 1879 Yakoub Khan, who had succeeded to the throne on the death of his father, Shere Ali, had recognised the futility of further resistance. The Peace of Gandamak was signed, by which the control of the foreign affairs of Afghanistan was to be vested in the Indian Government, the Kurram, Pishin, and Sibi Passes were to be attached to the Indian Empire, the Khyber Pass was also to be under our control, and a British Resident was to be installed at Cabul. Sir Louis Cavagnari accordingly proceeded there with a small escort on the 17th June 1879.