The First Afghan War

by Mowbray Morris

But the idea still lived in Napoleon's restless heart. The original treaty with Paul was discussed with his successor Alexander, and in 1808 a French mission, with the avowed design of organizing the proposed invasion, was despatched, not to Cabul, but to Teheran. The magic of Napoleon's name was stronger even than British eloquence and British gold, and Malcolm, once all-powerful in Iran, when he sought to renew the former pledges of amity, was turned back with insult from the Persian capital. A second mission, however, despatched direct from London under the guidance of Sir Harford Jones, was more fortunate. Napoleon had been defeated in Spain, and the news of his defeat had spread. Russia was something less eager for the French alliance than she had been in 1801, while between the Muscovites and the Persians there had long existed a hereditary feud, which the proposed league had by no means served to extinguish. The English envoy, skilfully piecing together these broken threads to his own ends, was enabled with little loss of time to conclude an offensive and defensive alliance between Great Britain and Persia, the earliest result of which was the immediate dismissal of the French mission. By this treaty the Persian King bound himself not to permit the passage through his dominions of any force hostile to India, and, in the event of war arising between England and Afghanistan, to invade the latter at the cost of the former; furthermore, he declared null all treaties previously concluded by him with any other European power. The English, in their turn, pledged themselves to assist him, should his kingdom be invaded, either with men or money and arms, but should the war be one only with Afghanistan, they were not to interfere unless their interference was sought by both parties. Though this treaty was concluded in 1808-9, it was not formally ratified till November 15, 1814.

Not on Persia alone, however, was the English Government content to rely. In a friendly Afghanistan was a second most serviceable string which it had been the height of imprudence to let another fit to his bow. The two countries stood in almost precisely similar relations to English India; each as an enemy contemptible single-handed, but a dangerous item in an invading force; each a useful ally, and each a salutary check upon the other. At the same time, then, as Sir Harford Jones was neutralizing the French influence at Teheran, the Honourable Mountstuart Elphinstone was despatched by Lord Minto, who had succeeded Lord Wellesley at Calcutta, to the Court of Cabul.

Previous to the year 1808 Afghanistan was practically a terra incognita to Englishmen. Zemaun Shah, the once terrible Ameer whose threatened invasion had disturbed even the strong mind of Lord Wellesley, was, indeed, in their hands, living, dethroned and blinded, a pensioner on their bounty at Loodhianah, but of the country he had once ruled over and of the subjects who had driven him into exile but little was known in Calcutta and still less in London. Before the close of the eighteenth century but one Englishman had ever penetrated into that unknown land. Forster, a member of the Bengal Civil Service, in 1783-84 had crossed the Punjab to Cashmere, and thence had descended through the great Khyber and Koord-Cabul passes to the Afghan stronghold, whence journeying on by Ghuznee, Candahar, and Herat he had won his way to the borders of the Caspian Sea. His book was not published till some fifteen years after, and shows chiefly, to use Kaye's words, "how much during the last seventy years the Afghan Empire and how little the Afghan character is changed." But the labour and intelligence of one man, however much they may profit himself, have rarely by themselves added much to the knowledge of a nation. Many well-read Englishmen could still own to little more than a vague idea of Afghanistan; that it was a bare and rocky country, which the heat of summer and the cold of winter alike rendered impervious to travellers, happily shut out from more civilised regions by a mighty barrier of mountains, topped with eternal snow, through which, by passes inaccessible to all save the mountaineers themselves, hordes of savage warriors had in earlier days poured down in irresistible flood on the fertile valleys of the Indus. Elphinstone let in more light on the gloomy and mysterious scene. Though with his own eyes he saw but little of the country and the people, as his journey was stayed at Peshawur, he acquired from various sources a vast amount of information, which he reproduced with extraordinary distinctness. His book rapidly became the acknowledged text-book of the history and geography of the country, and may still be read with pleasure and studied with profit. It would have been well if one of the lessons he taught had been better laid to heart; and thirty years later his unfortunate namesake must have recalled with peculiar bitterness all he had once read of the ingrained treachery of the Afghan character. The mission was in itself entirely successful, though the rapid march of events soon neutralised, and eventually wholly destroyed its work. Shah Soojah, a name to be before many years but too familiar to English ears, received the envoys at Peshawur, then one of the chief cities of his kingdom. He appeared to them in royal state, seated on a golden throne, and blazing with jewels, chief among which shone forth in a gorgeous bracelet the mighty Koh-i-noor. Nor were the English outdone in magnificence. The entire mission was on a scale of profuse splendour, and the presents they brought with them so numerous and so costly that when, thirty years later, Burnes arrived in Cabul the courtiers turned in disgust from what Kaye contemptuously calls "his pins and needles, and little articles of hardware, such as would have disgraced the wallet of a pedlar of low repute." The envoys were most hospitably received, and Elphinstone formed a very favourable opinion of the character of Soojah, whom he described as both affable and dignified and bearing the "manners of a gentleman." He listened attentively to the envoys' proposals, and declared that "England and Cabul were designed by the Creator to be united by bonds of everlasting friendship," but at the same time he confessed his country to be in such an unsettled condition, and his own throne so insecure, that, for the present, the best advice he could give the English gentlemen was that they should retire beyond the frontier. On June 14th, 1809, therefore, the mission set out on its homeward journey, having, however, arranged a treaty, which was shortly after formally ratified by Lord Minto at Calcutta, by which Soojah bound himself to treat the French, if allied with the Persians, much as the Persian monarch had pledged himself to behave to them if allied with the Afghans. But even at the very time of ratification this treaty had been practically rendered null by the success of Sir Harford Jones's mission to Teheran, and within a year Soojah had been deposed by his brother Mahmoud, from whom he had himself wrested the crown, and was a captive in the hands of Runjeet Singh.

The final overthrow of Napoleon in 1815 removed all fears of a French advance on India, but in its stead arose the still more imminent shadow of Russia. For many years past that shadow had been looming larger and larger to the eyes of the kings of Teheran, till the annexation of Georgia brought the eagles of the Czar over the Caucasus up to the very frontier of their northern provinces. The English alliance, and an army drilled under the supervision of English officers, had, however, turned the head of the Persian king, and his heir, Abbas Mirza, at the head of 40,000 troops, of whom half were drilled and equipped after the English fashion, dared, in 1826, to throw down the gauntlet to the Czar. He paid dearly for his daring. English drill and English arms availed him little without English officers. His son, Mahomed Mirza, was utterly routed with the division under his command, and soon after he himself was defeated in open battle by the Russian Paskewitch with a loss of 1200 men. The English help, promised by the treaty of 1814 in the event of Persia becoming involved in war with any European power, was not forthcoming. Mediation took the place of armed men, and with the help of Great Britain a peace was concluded in 1828 between the two powers, humiliating to Persia, and ultimately disastrous to England. By this treaty Persia lost the Khanates of Erivan and Nakhichevan, and practically her whole defensive frontier to the north. In Sir Harford Jones's words, "Persia was delivered, bound hand and foot, to the Court of St. Petersburg." The territory acquired by Russia was nearly equal in extent to the whole of England, and her outposts were brought within a few days' march of the Persian capital. From that time, up to Lord Auckland's arrival at Calcutta in 1836, Persia was little more than a minion of the Czar, used by him to cover the steady advance of his battalions eastward. The death of Futteh Ali Shah, at Ispahan in 1834, snapped the last link that bound Persia to our interests. Futteh Ali, as far as lay in his power, had ever striven to remain faithful to his English allies, and to resist, as far as he dared, Russian intrigue and Russian influence within his kingdom. But his son and grandson had welcomed the Muscovite alliance with open arms, and when the latter ascended the throne on his grandfather's death, it was evident that the Czar would be paramount at the Persian Court. Mahomed Mirza Shah, the new king, had long dreamed of the conquest of Herat and the extension of his eastern frontier, and had more than once, in his grandfather's lifetime, striven to turn his dreams to facts. Nothing could have been more favourable to the Russian plans, and no sooner was Mahomed secure upon the throne than he was urged to the immediate execution of his long-cherished designs. Such was the state of affairs when Lord Auckland was despatched by Lord Melbourne in 1836 to take the reins of Indian Government from the hands of Sir Charles Metcalfe.

Meanwhile many changes had taken place at Cabul. The weak and dissolute Mahmoud, the deposer of Soojah, proved no more than a puppet in the hands of his Vizier, Futteh Khan, the head of the great Barukzye tribe. The youngest of the twenty brothers of this able and powerful chief was the celebrated Dost Mahomed. Born of a woman of an inferior tribe, he had entered life as a sweeper of the sacred tomb of Lamech. From thence he was promoted to hold a menial office about the person of his great brother, into whose favour he at length rose by the murder, when only a boy of fourteen, of one of the Vizier's enemies. From that time his rise was steady, and as he rose so did he discard the follies and excesses of his youth, displaying a daring and heroic spirit, great military address, and a power of self-discipline and self-control unparalleled among the chiefs of Central Asia. To his hands was entrusted the execution of the Vizier's project for establishing the Barukzyes in Herat, then held by a brother of the reigning king. The design was completely successful for the moment, owing to the daring and also to the treachery of Dost Mahomed, but the blow recoiled with fearful force on the person of the Vizier. Returning from his raid against the Persians, which had been the ostensible pretext for his march to Herat, Futteh Khan was seized by Prince Kamran, son of Mahmoud; his eyes were put out, and persisting in his refusal to give up his brother to the Prince's vengeance, he was hacked to pieces before the whole court. This brutal act finally overthrew the long tottering dynasty of the Suddozyes, who had been kings in Cabul since Ahmed Shah founded the Afghan Empire in 1747. Dost Mahomed's vengeance was sudden and no less brutal. But it is impossible in this limited space to enter into all the details of his rise to the chief seat of power. It must suffice to say that when Lord Auckland entered on his government Dost Mahomed was firmly seated on the throne of Cabul, and the whole of the country in the hands of the Barukzye Sirdars, with the exception of Herat, where Kamran still reigned, the last remnant, save the exiled Soojah, of the legitimate line.

Shortly after Lord Auckland's arrival at Calcutta Dost Mahomed addressed to him a letter of congratulation on his assumption of office. Adverting to his quarrel with the Sikhs, who, under Runjeet Singh, the old one-eyed "Lion of the Punjab," had wrested the rich valley of Peshawur from the Afghan Empire, he said, "the late transactions in this quarter, the conduct of the reckless and misguided Sikhs, and their breach of treaty, are well known to your Lordship. Communicate to me whatever may suggest itself to your wisdom for the settlement of the affairs of this country, that it may serve as a rule for my guidance." And he concluded with a hope that "your Lordship will consider me and my country as your own." To this complimentary effusion the Viceroy returned a suitable reply, assuring the Ameer of his wish that the Afghans should become a "flourishing and united nation," but declining to interfere in the Sikh quarrel, on the plea that it was not "the practice of the British Government to interfere with the affairs of other independent states." It was hinted, too, that "some gentleman" would probably be deputed to the Ameer's Court to discuss certain "commercial topics." This plan, which had originally commended itself to Lord William Bentinck, shortly after took effect in the despatch of Captain Alexander Burnes to Cabul.

But by this time affairs in Persia had reached a crisis. Though Mahomed Shah, breathing fire and sword against Herat, had ascended the throne in 1834, it was not till 1837 that his threats took practical shape. Despite the ceaseless promptings of the Russian minister at Teheran (who, it is perhaps needless to say, had, according to his own Government, done his best to dissuade Mahomed from any advance on the Afghan frontier), the Shah still hung back. If Kamran would send hostages and a large present, would own the Persian king as sovereign, coin money, and have prayers read in his name, all should be well. The hostages and the present Kamran was content to allow, but the rest he could not stomach. The Barukzye chief who ruled at Candahar viewed the proposed invasion with complaisance, hoping to secure Herat for himself, and being perfectly willing to hold it as a fief of Persia. He even went so far as to propose to send one of his sons to the Persian camp as hostage for his fidelity, and to secure the best terms for himself and his brothers. Dost Mahomed warned him that if he did so he would be made "to bite the finger of repentance," but the warning was disregarded. Egged on by the flattering assurances of the inestimable advantages to be derived from a Persian alliance, that the Russian agent did not cease to lay before him, Kohun Dil Khan disobeyed the commands of his chief; the boy was to be sent, and the alliance was to be completed. Mahomed Shah then commenced his march against Herat, and at the same time Burnes appeared at Cabul. "Thus," says Kaye, "the seeds of the Afghan war were sown."

Burnes had been at Cabul before. He had gone there in 1832, with the sanction of Lord William Bentinck, and had been courteously received by Dost Mahomed, of whom he had formed a very favourable opinion, in contrast with that which he entertained of the weak and vacillating Soojah. His opinion of the Ameer was, probably, in the main a correct one, but he scarcely seems to have exercised his usual judgment when he declared the Afghans to be "a simple-minded, sober people, of frank and open manners." Returning in the following year, Burnes was sent to England to impart to the authorities at home the results of his travels and observations. In London he was received with the greatest enthusiasm. His book was published, and read by every one. He became the "lion" of the season, and the name of "Bokhara Burnes" was to be seen in every list of fashionable entertainments. Returning to India in 1835, he was soon removed from Cutch, where he had acted as Assistant to the Resident, on a mission to the Ameers of Sindh. While still engaged in that duty he received notice to hold himself in readiness to proceed to Cabul, and on November 26, 1836, he sailed from Bombay "to work out the policy of opening the river Indus to commerce." That Lord Auckland had at that time any idea, much less any definite plan, of interfering in Afghan politics is most unlikely, as it is certain Lord William Bentinck had not when he first thought of this "commercial" mission. It is worthy of note, however, that when Burnes first broached the plan to the Court of Directors at home they refused to countenance it, feeling, in the words of the chairman, Mr. Tucker, "perfectly assured that it must soon degenerate into a political agency, and that we should, as a necessary consequence, be involved in all the entanglements of Afghan politics." Mr. Grant, of the Board of Control, held similar views, and Sir Charles Metcalfe in an emphatic minute pointed out the evils of this "commercial agency." The die, however, was cast, and on September 20, 1837, Burnes for the second time entered Cabul.

As before, Dost Mahomed received him with all courtesy, and with "great pomp and splendour." The navigation of the Indus soon disappeared into the background. From Burnes's own letters to Macnaghten, the Political Secretary at Calcutta, it may be seen how much of importance he himself attached to his commercial character. Nevertheless, at a private interview, "which lasted till midnight," with the Ameer, he talked a good deal about the Indus, and about trade, and other such harmless topics. The Ameer listened with the greatest attention, but when it came to his turn to speak, he substituted for the Indus the word Peshawur, and for commerce, the ability and resources of Runjeet Singh. If only he could regain Peshawur it was very evident that whoso would might hold the trade of the Indus. On this head Burnes was cautious. He suggested that possibly some arrangement might be concluded with Runjeet Singh by which Peshawur might be restored to the Ameer's brother Mahomed, from whose government the Sikhs had originally won it. But the Ameer wanted it for himself, and by no manner of means for his brother. Further than this, however, Burnes would not commit himself. He distinctly stated, moreover, that neither Dost Mahomed nor his brothers (should they decline the Persian alliance, of which the Ameer, and probably with sincerity, declared himself in no way desirous) must found any hopes on British aid. Sympathy he promised largely, should they behave themselves well, but not a single rupee nor a single musket. Still, even after this, the Ameer persisted in his professions of friendship to the English, nor is there any reason to doubt that he, at that time, meant what he said. Nay, he even offered himself to compel his brothers at Candahar to break once and for all with the Shah; but this Burnes declined, exhorting him, however, to use all pacific means to influence them, and himself writing to Kohun Dil to threaten him with the displeasure of England if he continued his intrigues with the Persian and Russian Courts. At that particular time the Candahar chiefs had rather cooled in their desire for the Persian alliance, and began to have suspicions that instead of obtaining Herat they were not unlikely to lose Candahar. Burnes thereupon despatched Lieutenant Leech, an officer of his mission, to them, promising them that should the Persian army after the fall of Herat advance on Candahar, he would himself march with Dost Mahomed to their defence, which he would further with all the means in his power. It was a bold step, but as many thought at the time, and as nearly all were agreed afterwards, it was by far the best that could have been taken. Lord Auckland, however, thought, or was advised to think otherwise. Burnes was severely censured for having so far exceeded his instructions—though he might well have pleaded in excuse that he knew not what were the instructions he had exceeded—and ordered at once to "set himself right with the chiefs." There was nothing left for him but to obey, and the result of his obedience was a treaty concluded between the chiefs and the Shah under a Russian guarantee.

Such a risk was not to be run again, nor was Burnes for the future to be able to plead any want of definite instructions. From this time forward his instructions were, indeed, explicit enough. Briefly they may be defined as to ask for everything and to give nothing. In vain did Dost Mahomed point out that in desiring to regain Peshawur from the Sikhs, he was doing practically no more than England was avowedly bent on doing, on guarding his frontier from danger, and that to exchange Runjeet Singh for his brother Mahomed was but to make his last state worse than his first. Burnes himself fully recognized the justice of his arguments, but Burnes's masters remained obstinately deaf. All they would promise was to restrain Runjeet Singh from attacking Dost Mahomed, provided Dost Mahomed in return bound himself to abstain from an alliance with any other state. At this, says Burnes, the Sirdars only laughed. "Such a promise," said Jubbar Khan, the Ameer's brother, and a staunch champion of the English cause, "such a promise amounts to nothing, for we are not under the apprehension of any aggressions from Lahore; they have hitherto been on the side of the Ameer, not of Runjeet Singh, and yet for such a promise you expect us to desist from all intercourse with Russia, with Persia, with Toorkistan, with every nation but England." To make matters still worse, at this crisis a new actor appeared on the scene, the Russian Vickovitch, bearing letters from Count Simonich and from the Czar himself, though the latter was unsigned, so as to be repudiated or acknowledged as events might require. The Ameer, still willing to please the British, offered to turn the Russian back from his gates, but that, Burnes pointed out, would be contrary to the rule of civilised nations, and Vickovitch was therefore allowed to enter Cabul and to present his letters, which were ostensibly, as those of Burnes had been, of a purely commercial bearing. What Burnes, however, thought of the arrival, he showed plainly enough in a letter written a few days after to a private friend. "We are in a mess here," he writes. "The Emperor of Russia has sent an envoy to Cabul with a blazing letter three feet long, offering Dost Mahomed money to fight Runjeet Singh.... It is now a neck-and-neck race between Russia and ourselves, and if his Lordship would hear reason he would forthwith send agents to Bokhara, Herat, Candahar, and Koondooz, not forgetting Sindh." His Lordship, however, would not hear such reason as Burnes had to offer, and when on March 5th, 1838, certain specific demands were presented by the Ameer, that the English should protect Cabul and Candahar from Persia, that Runjeet Singh should be compelled to restore Peshawur, and various others of the same tendency, Burnes could only, in the name of the British Government, refuse his assent to any and all of them, and then sit down to write a formal request for his dismissal. One more attempt was made by Dost Mahomed to come to terms, but it was of no use. The old ground was traversed again, and only with the old result. As a last resource the Ameer wrote to Lord Auckland in terms almost of humility, imploring him "to remedy the grievances of the Afghans," and to "give them a little encouragement and power." This was the last effort, and it failed. Then the game was up indeed. Vickovitch was sent for and received with every mark of honour; one of the Candahar chiefs came up in haste to Cabul, and on April 26th, 1838, Burnes turned his back on the Afghan capital.