To Herat and Cabul: A Story of the First Afghan War

by G. A. Henty

Pottinger's position was a very painful one. The need for money to pay the troops was absolute, and the wuzeer, when he had recovered from the effects of his scare, instituted a reign of terror even more terrible than anything the wretched inhabitants had ever before felt. The soldiers went from house to house, and all suspected of possessing money were seized and tortured. Even ladies of rank were so treated, and the very inmates of Kamran's zenana were threatened and had to contribute their jewels. Pottinger felt that it was solely owing to his influence that the city had so long held out, and as he went through the streets starving men reproached him as the author of their sufferings. He did all that he could, but that was little. Men of all ranks came to him imploring his aid and protection. Some he was able to save, but for others he could do nothing. Never was a young soldier placed in so terrible a dilemma. As a man he was agonized by the sufferings he saw round him—sufferings he could at once bring to an end by advising the wuzeer to surrender: as a soldier and an Englishman, he felt that it was his duty to hold out to the bitter end.

His position became still more difficult when, a fortnight after the assault, the Persians again opened negotiations, demanding, however, as a first step that he should be expelled from the city. Pottinger declared that no thought of personal safety should persuade him to stand in the way of any arrangement conducive to the safety of Herat and the welfare of his country, and that if these could be gained by his departure he would willingly leave the town. But Yar Mahomed was undecided. He felt that the dismissal of the man who had saved Herat would be a stain on his character, and, moreover, that the Persians having obtained his dismissal, would become still more exorbitant in their demands. He had long expected the arrival of a relieving force of Turkomans, and Pottinger was convinced that ere long the intervention of England would compel the Persians to fall back. The bombardment of the city had not been renewed since the repulse of the attack, and the Persians relied now solely upon famine to reduce it, and maintained a strict blockade.

In order to mitigate the horrors he saw around him, Pottinger undertook that all who voluntarily brought in their money should be reimbursed at his recommendation by the British government. This brought some money in, though slowly, and July passed. Then a deserter from the Persian camp brought in news that there was a report that a great British army had landed in the Persian Gulf, had taken Bushire, and was advancing. This report had fortunately enormously magnified the strength of the British expedition, and the news gave fresh life to the defenders of Herat. The Persians again opened negotiations, waiving the question of the expulsion of Pottinger, but the wuzeer was less inclined than before to yield to the Persian demands.

M'Neill was on his way to the frontier when he was informed of the arrival of the British expedition to the Persian Gulf, and at the same time received instructions from the Foreign Office in anticipation of the refusal of the Shah to retire from before Herat. Fortified by these instructions, he despatched Colonel Stoddart to the Persian camp with a message to the Shah. He arrived there on the 11th of August, and on the next day had an interview with the Shah, who welcomed him with cordiality, and listened to the message from the British government.

"It means, then," he said, "that if I do not leave Herat there will be war?"

"It all depends upon your Majesty's answer," Stoddart replied.

Two days later Stoddart was again summoned to the royal presence. "We consent," the Shah said, "to the whole of the demands from the British government. We will not go to war. Were it not for the sake of their friendship, we should not return from before Herat. Had we known that by our coming here we should risk the loss of their friendship, we certainly should not have come at all."

In reply, Colonel Stoddart said he thanked God that his Majesty had taken so wise a view of the real interests of Persia. But as he left the audience, he hinted to the Persian minister that although the Shah's answer was very satisfactory, it would be more satisfactory still to see it at once reduced to practice. Although rumours reached the city that the Persians were about to leave, it was not for another week that the rumours became a certainty. An effort was made to induce the wuzeer to make some concessions that would give a better grace to the withdrawal of the Shah. Some of the conditions suggested were refused by Pottinger's advice; but on the 4th of September the Persian prisoners in the town were sent into camp, and on the 9th the Persian army began their march back to Teheran.

It was time indeed that they did so, for they had but three or four days' supply of forage remaining, and their flour and grain were almost all exhausted. Their failure to capture so weakly fortified a place was, in Pottinger's opinion, due to the fact that there was no union of effort. The commanders of the various sections of the army acted independently, and except when, under the command of the Russians, they made a simultaneous attack, they never acted in concert with each other. It was his opinion that the Shah might have carried the city by assault the very first day that he reached Herat. He declared that the Persians were equally as brave as and far better soldiers than the Afghans, and that they had an ample supply of artillery to capture a strong fortress if properly employed.

For a week after the struggle of the 24th of June Angus Campbell lay between life and death. He had lost a great quantity of blood, and when first carried to his room his Armenian friends believed him to be dead. Pottinger, who had hurried back as soon as he saw that there was no chance of a renewal of the assault, went to Kamran's and obtained some spirits, and with the aid of these the action of the heart, which had before been so slight that the pulse could not be felt, was stimulated, and respiration grew stronger. Kamran's doctor had already declared that none of the wounds were in themselves dangerous, but that he despaired of the patient recovering. Pottinger, however, by no means despaired; he procured some fresh meat, and ordered a servant to make the strongest broth possible, and to pour a spoonful between the patient's lips every few minutes. Angus was wrapped in warm blankets, and a large bottle of hot water placed against his feet. The wounds had already been carefully dressed and bandaged by the surgeon, for although almost entirely ignorant as to the use of drugs, Afghan doctors had abundant practice in the treatment of wounds.