1879
I had given much thought to the question of housing the troops during the winter, which was now fast approaching. Some of the senior officers were in favour of quartering them in the Bala Hissar, as being the place with most prestige attached to it; but the fact that there was not accommodation in it for the whole force, and that, therefore, the troops would have to be separated, as well as the dangerous proximity of the huge store of gunpowder, which could only be got rid of by degrees, decided me to occupy in preference the partly-fortified cantonment of Sherpur, about a mile north-east of the city, and close to the ruins of the old British entrenchment. It was enclosed on three sides by a high and massive loop-holed wall, and on the fourth by the Bimaru heights, while it possessed the advantage of having within its walls sufficient shelter in long ranges of brick buildings for the British troops, and good hospital accommodation, and there was ample space for the erection of huts for the Native soldiers.
The drawback was that the great extent of its perimeter, more than four and a half miles, made it a very difficult place to defend; but, remembering the grievous results of General Elphinstone's force being scattered in 1841, I thought the advantage of being able to keep my troops together outweighed the disadvantage of having to defend so long a line.
Materials for the Native soldiers' huts were brought from the Bala Hissar, the demolition of which, as an act of retributive justice, I had recommended to the Government of India, as it appeared to me that the destruction of the fortified palace in which the massacre had taken place, and which was the symbol of the power of the Afghans and their boasted military strength, would be a more fitting punishment for treachery and insult than any other we could inflict, and a more lasting memorial of our ability to avenge our countrymen than any we could raise. The tidings that their ancient citadel had been levelled to the ground would, I felt sure, spread throughout the length and breadth of Afghanistan, bearing with them a political significance that could hardly be over-estimated.
Afghans Afraid to Befriend us I now set to work to collect supplies for the winter. A1 khalsa, or State grain, we took as our right, the justice of this being recognized both by the Amir and the people, but what was the property of private individuals was purchased at a price the avaricious Afghan could not resist. There had been a good harvest, and supplies were abundant; but the people from the outlying districts were chary of assisting us, for they knew from experience that all who befriended the British would be sure to suffer when we took our departure.
I had repeated complaints brought to me of the harshness and injustice with which those who had shown themselves well disposed towards us were treated by the Amir on his return from signing the Treaty at Gandamak, and most of the Afghans were so afraid of the Amir's vengeance when they should again be left to his tender mercies, that they held aloof, except those who, like Wali Mahomed Khan and his following, were in open opposition to Yakub Khan, and some few who were still smarting from recent injury and oppression.
I was frequently asked by the Afghans, when requiring some service to be rendered, 'Are you going to remain?' Could I have replied in the affirmative, or could I have said that we should continue to exercise sufficient control over the Government of the country to prevent their being punished for helping us, they would have served us willingly. Not that I could flatter myself they altogether liked us, but they would have felt it wise in their own interests to meet our requirements; and, besides, the great mass of the people were heartily sick and tired of a long continuance of oppression and misrule, and were ready to submit (for a time, at least) to any strong and just Government.
Lord Lytton, in the hope of saving from the resentment of the Amir those who had been of use to us in the early part of the war, had expressly stipulated in Article II. of the Gandamak Treaty that 'a full and complete amnesty should be published, absolving all Afghans from any responsibility on account of intercourse with the British Forces during the campaign, and that the Amir should guarantee to protect all persons, of whatever degree, from punishment or molestation on that account.'
But this stipulation was not adhered to. Yakub Khan more than once spoke to me about it, and declared that it was impossible to control the turbulent spirits in Afghanistan without being supreme, and that this amnesty, had it been published, would have tied his hands with regard to those who had proved themselves his enemies.
His neglect to carry out this Article of the treaty added considerably to my difficulty, as will be seen from the following letter from Asmatula Khan, a Ghilzai Chief, to whom I wrote, asking him to meet me at Kabul.