Cabul, the seat of government of the Ameer of Afghanistan, is at the present time (1897) an open town, though it was formerly surrounded by walls of brick and mud. The only building of any importance is the Bala Hissar, or Citadel, containing the apartments of the Ameer. Besides being a place of great strategic importance, Cabul is the centre of the trade of Central Asia.
J. Doyle (“H. B.”).]
LORD ELLENBOROUGH,
1790–1871.
Governor-General of India, 1841–1844.
Bad as this was there was darker disgrace to come. The evacuation was delayed—on the part of the British from a foolish “Micawber” hope that “something would turn up”—on the part of the Afghans, no doubt, in order that the advent of winter should make the passes impracticable. Macnaghten, the British Envoy, seems to have been infected by the prevailing demoralisation, and fell into a trap prepared for him by Akbar Khan. At the very moment when he (Macnaghten) was negotiating openly with the chiefs in Cabul he entered into a conspiracy with Akbar to destroy them, to establish Shah Soojah as nominal monarch, and to secure the appointment of Akbar as Vizier. Macnaghten’s punishment made no long tarrying, for Akbar was acting a subtle part. Macnaghten, accompanied by three officers, rode out one morning to a conference with Akbar on the west bank of the Cabul river. It was a solitary place, as befitted the discussion of the contemplated treachery, but they had not been conferring long before they were surrounded by a crowd of armed country people. The British officers remonstrated with Akbar; at that moment Macnaghten and his companions were seized from behind; a scuffle took place; Akbar drew a pistol, a gift from the Envoy himself, and shot him in the body. Macnaghten fell from his horse and was instantly hewn in pieces; Captain Trevor was killed also, and the other two officers, Mackenzie and Laurence, were carried off to the town.
W. Simpson, R.I.] [From Sketches and Descriptions obtained on the spot.
THE REMNANT OF AN ARMY.
The gate shown is the Cabul Gate of Jellalabad. It was from the top of that gate that the sentry on duty first caught sight of the solitary figure, clad in sheepskin coat and riding a bay pony, lean, hungry, and tired, who alone survived the massacres in the Khyber and Jugdulluck Passes. Dr. Brydon’s form was bent from weakness, and he was so worn out with fatigue that he could scarcely cling to the saddle. The snow-covered mountain in the background is the Ram Koond.