Читать книгу History of the War in Afghanistan (Vol. 1-3) - Sir John William Kaye - Страница 15
CHAPTER I.
Оглавление[1835–1837.]
The Commercial Mission to Caubul—Arrival of Lord Auckland—His Character—Alexander Burnes—His Travels in Central Asia—Deputation to the Court of Dost Mahomed—Reception by the Ameer—Negotiations at Caubul—Failure of the Mission.
In the autumn of 1835, Lord Auckland was appointed Governor-General of India. The Whigs had just returned to power. The brief Tory interregnum which had preceded the restoration to office of Lord Melbourne and his associates, had been marked by the appointment to the Indian Viceroyship of Lord Heytesbury—a nobleman of high character and approved diplomatic skill. His official friends boasted largely of the excellence of the choice, and prophesied that the most beneficial results would flow from his government of India. But nothing of the Governor-Generalship ever devolved upon him, except the outfit. The Whig ministers cancelled the appointment, and, after a time, selected Lord Auckland to fill the rudely vacated place.
The appointment occasioned some surprise, but raised little indignation. In India, the current knowledge of Lord Auckland and his antecedents was of the smallest possible amount. In England, the general impression was, that if not a brilliant or a profound man, he was at least a safe one. The son of an eminent diplomatist, who had been won over to the support of Pitt’s administration, and had been raised to the peerage in reward for his services, he was generally regarded as one of the steadiest and most moderate of the Whig party. As an industrious and conscientious public servant, assiduous in his attention to business and anxious to compensate by increased application for the deficiencies of native genius, he was held in good esteem by his colleagues and respected by all who had official intercourse with him. India did not, it was supposed, at that time demand for the administration of her affairs, any large amount of masculine vigour or fertility of resource. The country was in a state of profound tranquillity. The treasury was overflowing. The quietest ruler was likely to be the best. There was abundant work to be done; but it was all of a pacific character. In entrusting that work to Lord Auckland, the ministry thought that they entrusted it to safe hands. The new Governor-General had everything to learn; but he was a man of methodical habits of business, apt in the acquisition of knowledge, with no overweening confidence in himself, and no arrogant contempt for others. His ambition was all of the most laudable kind. It was an ambition to do good. When he declared, at the farewell banquet given to him by the Directors of the East-India Company, that he “looked with exultation to the new prospects opening out before him, affording him an opportunity of doing good to his fellow-creatures—of promoting education and knowledge—of improving the administration of justice in India—of extending the blessings of good government and happiness to millions in India,” it was felt by all who knew him, that the words were uttered with a grave sincerity, and expressed the genuine aspirations of the man.
Nor did the early days of his government disappoint the expectations of those who had looked for a painstaking, laborious administrator, zealous in the persecution of measures calculated to develope the resources of the country, and to advance the happiness of the people. It appeared, indeed, that with something less of the uncompromising energy and self-denying honesty of Lord William Bentinck, but with an equal purity of benevolence, he was treading in the footsteps of his predecessor. The promotion of native education, and the expansion of the industrial resources of the country, were pursuits far more congenial to his nature than the assembling of armies and the invasion of empires. He had no taste for the din and confusion of the camp; no appetite for foreign conquest. Quiet and unobtrusive in his manners, of a somewhat cold and impassive temperament, and altogether of a reserved and retiring nature, he was not one to court excitement or to desire notoriety. He would fain have passed his allotted years of office, in the prosecution of those small measures of domestic reform which, individually, attract little attention, but, in the aggregate, affect mightily the happiness of the people. He belonged, indeed, to that respectable class of governors whose merits are not sufficiently prominent to demand ample recognition by their contemporaries, but whose noiseless, unapplauded achievements entitled them to the praise of the historian and the gratitude of after ages.
It was not possible, however intently his mind might have been fixed upon the details of internal administration, that he should have wholly disregarded the aggressive designs of Persia and the obvious intrigues of the Russian Government. The letters written from time to time by the British minister at the Persian Court, were read at first, in the Calcutta Council-Chamber, with a vague interest rather than with any excited apprehensions. It was little anticipated that a British army would soon be encamped before the capital of Afghanistan, but it was plain that events were taking shape in Central Asia, over which the British-Indian Government could not afford to slumber. At all events, it was necessary in such a conjuncture to get together some little body of facts, to acquire some historical and geographical information relating to the countries lying between the Indian frontier and the eastern boundaries of the Russian Empire. Secretaries then began to write “notes,” and members of Council to study them. Summaries of political events, genealogical trees, tables of routes and distances, were all in great requisition, during the first years of Lord Auckland’s administration. The printed works of Elphinstone, Conolly, and Burnes; of Malcolm, Pottinger, and Fraser, were to be seen on the breakfast-tables of our Indian statesmen, or in their hands as they were driven to Council. Then came Sir John M’Neill’s startling pamphlet on the “Progress and Present Position of Russia in the East.” M’Neill, Urquhart, and others were writing up the Eastern question at home; reviewers and pamphleteers of smaller note were rushing into the field with their small collections of facts and arguments. It was demonstrated past contradiction, that if Russia were not herself advancing by stealthy steps towards India, she was pushing Persia forward in the same easterly direction. If all this was not very alarming, it was, at least, worth thinking about. It was plainly the duty of Indian statesmen to acquaint themselves with the politics of Central Asia, and the geography of the countries through which the invasion of India must be attempted. It was only right that they should have been seen tracing on incorrect maps the march of a Russian army from St. Petersburgh to Calcutta, by every possible and impossible route, now floundering among the inhospitable steppes, now parching on the desert of Merve. The Russian army might not come at last; but it was clearly the duty of an Indian statesman to know how it would endeavour to come.
It was in the spring of 1836 that Dost Mahomed addressed a letter of congratulation to Lord Auckland, on his assumption of the office of Governor-General. “The field of my hopes,” he wrote, “which had before been chilled by the cold blast of wintry times, has by the happy tidings of your Lordship’s arrival become the envy of the garden of paradise.” Then adverting to the unhappy state of his relations with the Sikhs, he said: “The late transactions in this quarter, the conduct of 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. I hope,” said the Ameer, in conclusion, “that your Lordship will consider me and my country as your own;” but he little thought how in effect this Oriental compliment would be accepted as a solemn invitation, and the hope be literally fulfilled. Three years afterwards Lord Auckland, considering Dost Mahomed’s country his own, had given it away to Shah Soojah.
To this friendly letter the Governor-General returned a friendly reply. It was his wish, he said, that the Afghans “should be a flourishing and united nation;” it was his wish, too, that Dost Mahomed should encourage a just idea of the expediency of promoting the navigation of the Indus. He hinted that he should probably soon “depute some gentlemen” to the Ameer’s Court to discuss with him certain commercial topics; and added, with reference to Dost Mahomed’s unhappy relations with the Sikhs, and his eagerness to obtain assistance from any quarter: “My friend, you are aware that it is not the practice of the British Government to interfere with the affairs of other independent states.” With what feelings three years afterwards, when a British army was marching upon his capital, the Ameer must have remembered these words, it is not difficult to conjecture.
This project of a commercial mission to Afghanistan was no new conception of which Lord Auckland was the parent. It had at least been thought of by Lord William Bentick—and, certainly, with no ulterior designs. It was suggested, I believe, to Lord William Bentinck by Sir John Malcolm. That Lord Auckland, when he wrote to Dost Mahomed about “deputing some gentlemen” to Caubul to talk over commercial matters with the Ameer, had much more intention than his predecessor of driving the Barukzye Sirdars into exile, is not to be asserted or believed. He may have seen that such a mission might be turned to other than commercial uses; he may have thought it desirable that the gentlemen employed should collect as much information at the Ameer’s Court as the advantages of their position would enable them to acquire. But at this time he would have started back at the barest mention of a military expedition beyond the Indus, and would have scouted a proposal to substitute for the able and energetic ruler of Caubul, that luckless Suddozye Prince—the pensioner of Loodhianah—whose whole career had been such a series of disasters as had never before been written down against the name of any one man.
Apart from the commercial bearings of the case, he had little more than a dim notion of obtaining a clearer insight into the politics of Central Asia. But vague and indefinite as were his conceptions, he was haunted, even at the commencement of his Indian career, by a feeling of insecurity, engendered by the aspect of affairs beyond the British frontier. There was a shadow of danger, but he knew not what the substance might be. Any one of the strange combinations which he was called upon to consider, might evolve a war;[108] so at least it behoved him to prepare for the possible contest, by obtaining all the knowledge that could be acquired, and securing the services of men competent to aid him in such a conjuncture.
Since distant rumours of an Afghan invasion had disturbed the strong mind of Lord Wellesley, much had been learnt both in India and in England concerning the countries between the Indus and the Oxus. The civil and military services of the East India Company, numbering in their ranks, as they ever have done, men of lofty enterprise and great ability, had, since the commencement of the century, brought, by their graphic writings, the countries and the people of Central Asia visibly before their home-staying countrymen. Before the close of the eighteenth century, but one English traveler—a Bengal civilian, named Forster—had made his way from the banks of the Ganges across the rivers of the Punjab to the lakes of Cashmere, and thence descending into the country below, had entered the formidable pass of the Khybur, and penetrated through the defiles of Jugdulluck and Koord-Caubul to the Afghan capital, whence he had journeyed on, by Ghuznee, Candahar, and Herat, to the borders of the Caspian Sea. The journey was undertaken in 1783 and the following year; but it was not until some fifteen years afterwards, that the account of his travels was given to the world. Honourable alike to his enterprise and his intelligence, the book exhibits at once how much, during the last seventy years, the Afghan Empire, and how little the Afghan character, is changed.
The great work of Mountstuart Elphinstone, published some fifteen years after the appearance of Mr. Forster’s volume, soon became the text-book of all who sought for information relating to the history and geography of the Douranee Empire. But Elphinstone saw little of the country or the people of Afghanistan; he acquired information, and he reproduced it with marvellous fidelity and distinctness, and would probably not have written a better book if he had travelled and had seen more. It was left for a later generation to explore the tracts of country which were unvisited by the ambassador; and for a later still to elicit encouragement and reward.
Years passed away before government began to recognise the value of such inquiries. When Mr. Moorcroft, of the Company’s Stud-Department, a man of high courage and enterprise, accompanied by Mr. Trebeck, the son of a Calcutta lawyer, set out in 1819, in the mixed character of a horse-dealer and a merchant, upon his long and perilous journey; spent the last six years of his life in exploring the countries of Ladakh, Cashmere, Afghanistan, Balkh, and Bokhara; and died at last in the inhospitable regions beyond the Hindoo-Koosh, nothing but absolute discouragement and opposition emanated from a government that had not the prescience to see the importance of such investigations.[109]
In 1828 Mr. Edward Stirling, an officer of the Bengal civil service, being in England on furlough, undertook to return to India by the route of Khorassan and Afghanistan. From Sir John Macdonald, the Resident Minister at Teheran, he received every encouragement and assistance; but the Indian Government looked slightingly upon his labours, and neglected the man. The information he had acquired was not wanted; and he was put out of employment, because he had over-stayed, by a few weeks, the period of his leave of absence. Those were days when no thought of an invasion from the westward overshadowed the minds of our Indian statesmen.[110] But when, a few years afterwards, a young officer of the Bengal cavalry, named Arthur Conolly—a man of an earnest and noble nature, running over with the most benevolent enthusiasm, and ever suffering his generous impulses to shoot far in advance of his prudence and discretion—set out from London, proceeded, through Russia, across the Caucasus, and thence through Persia and Khorassan, accompanying an Afghan army from Meshed to Herat, and journeyed on from the latter place to Candahar, and, southward, through Beloochistan and Sindh to India, there was little chance of the information which he collected on his travels being received with ingratitude and neglect. The period which elapsed between the time when those travels were completed and the date at which their written results were given to the world, deprived Arthur Conolly of some portion of the credit which he might otherwise have received, and of the interest which attached to his publication. Another officer had by this time made his way by another route, through the unexplored regions of Central Asia, and laid before the government and the country an account of his wanderings. On him, when Lord Auckland bethought himself of despatching a commercial agent to Caubul, the choice of the Governor-General fell.
Born in the year 1805, at Montrose, and educated in the academy of that town, Alexander Burnes proceeded to Bombay at the early age of sixteen, and, at a period of his career when the majority of young men are mastering the details of company-drill, and wasting their time in the strenuous idleness of cantonment life, had recommended himself, by his proficiency in the native languages, to the government under which he served. Whilst yet in his teens, he was employed to translate the Persian documents of the Suddur Court, and, at the age of twenty, was appointed Persian interpreter to a force assembled for a hostile demonstration against Sindh, rendered necessary by the continued border feuds which were disturbing the peace of our frontier. In a little while he became distinguished as a topographer no less than as a linguist; and as a writer of memoirs, and designer of maps of little-known tracts of country, soon rose into favour and repute. Attached to the department of the Quartermaster-General, he was employed upon the survey of the north-western frontier of the Bombay Presidency, and shortly afterwards was appointed Assistant Political Agent in Cutch, a province with which he had made himself intimately acquainted. In the young officer a spirit of enterprise was largely blended with the love of scientific research. He was eager to push his inquiries and to extend his travels into the countries watered by the Indus and its tributaries—the fabulous rivers on the banks of which the Macedonian had encamped his victorious legions. It was not long before occasion offered for the gratification of his cherished desires. A batch of splendid English horses had been despatched, in 1830, to Bombay, as a present to Runjeet Singh; and Sir John Malcolm, then Governor of that Presidency, selected Alexander Burnes to conduct the complimentary mission to Lahore.[111] Instructed, at the same time, to neglect no opportunity of acquiring information relative to the geography of the Indus, he proceeded through the country of the Ameers of Sindh, though not without some obstruction, from the jealousy and suspicion of the Talpoor rulers.[112] At the Sikh capital he was received with becoming courtesy and consideration. The old lion of the Punjab flung himself into the arms of the young British officer, and retained him as an honoured guest for a month. Leaving Lahore, Burnes crossed the Sutlej, and visited Loodhianah, where, little dreaming of the closer connexion which would one day exist between them, he made the acquaintance of the ex-King, Soojah-ool-Moolk, and his blind brother, Zemaun Shah. “Had I but my kingdom,” said the former to Burnes, “how glad I should be to see an Englishman at Caubul, and to open the road between Europe and India.”
From Loodhianah the traveller proceeded to Simlah, to lay an account of his journeying and its results at the feet of the Governor-General. Lord William Bentinck was then recruiting his exhausted energies in the bracing climate of that hill station. He received the traveller with kindly consideration, and listened to his narrations with interest and attention. Full of enthusiasm, with his appetite for enterprise stimulated by his recent adventures, Burnes pressed upon the Governor-General the expediency of extending the fields of geographical and commercial inquiry upon which he had entered, and succeeded in obtaining the sanction of the Governor-General to an expedition into Central Asia, to be undertaken under the patronage of Government, but not avowedly in connection with any public objects. He set out on his overland journey to England ostensibly as a private traveller, but protected by passports designed to show that he was travelling under the countenance of the government which he served.
Accompanied by Dr. Gerard, an assistant-surgeon on the Bengal establishment; by a young native surveyor, named Mahomed Ali; and by Mohun Lal, a Hindoo youth of Cashmerian descent, who had been educated at the Delhi College, and patronised by Mr. Trevelyan, Burnes set out on his long and perilous journey. Starting at the commencement of the new year of 1832, the travellers crossed the Punjab, and proceeded by the route of Peshawur and Jellalabad to Caubul. Here they were hospitably received by Dost Mahomed. The character of the Caubul chief and of the Afghan nation impressed themselves favourably upon the mind of Alexander Burnes. Of the latter he spoke as a simple-minded, sober people, of frank, open manners, impulsive and variable almost to childishness. He had seen and conversed with Shah Soojah at Loodhianah, and declared his conviction that the exiled Prince had not energy sufficient to empower him to regain his throne, or tact sufficient to enable him to keep it. The character of the Barukzye Sirdar now presented, in the eyes of the English officer, a favourable contrast to that of the Suddozye Prince. Burnes saw before him a man of no common ability, with a well-disciplined mind, a high sense of justice, and a general appreciation of his duties and responsibilities, as a ruler of the people, not unworthy of a Christian potentate. And I do not believe that from that time he ever changed his opinion.
Leaving Caubul, Burnes and his fellow-travellers ascended the mountain-paths of the Hindoo-Koosh, and journeying onward by the route of Syghan and Koondooz, debouched into the valley of the Oxus, followed the course of that river for many days, and then made their way to Bokhara. After two months spent in that city, they re-crossed the Oxus and journeyed westward to the Persian frontier. Visiting Meshed, Teheran, Ispahan, and Shiraz, and making the acquaintance on the way both of Abbas Meerza and the Shah-i-Shah, they proceeded to Bushire and Bombay. From Bombay, Burnes pushed on to Calcutta, and early in 1833 had laid before the Governor-General the results of his Central-Asian travels. Lord William Bentinck received him with marked attention and respect, and sent him to England, that he might impart, in person, to the home authorities the information with which he was laden.
His reception in England was of the most flattering character. The commendations of the East India Company and the Board of Control were endorsed by the commendations of the public. He published his book. It was read with avidity. In the coteries of London, “Bokhara Burnes” became one of the celebrities of the season. Learned societies did him honour. Fashionable dames sent him cards of invitation. Statesmen and savans sought his acquaintance. At Holland House and Bowood he was a favoured guest. He was no niggard of his information; he talked freely; and he had “some new thing” whereof to discourse. His fine talents and his genial social qualities recommended him to many; and there was more than enough in the overflowings of English hospitality to satisfy a vainer man.
These, however, were but unsubstantial rewards. He looked for promotion in the paths of Oriental diplomacy; and Lord Ellenborough, who then presided at the India Board, recommended him for the appointment of Secretary of Legation at the Persian Court.[113] This offer he was recommended to decline; and he returned to India, in the spring of 1835, to resume his duties as Assistant to the Resident at Cutch. Rescued in the autumn from the obscurity of this appointment, he was despatched to the Court of the Ameers of Sindh. The duties of the Mission were performed with judgment and ability. The Ameers consented to the proposal for the survey of the Indus, and would gladly have entered into more intimate relations with the British Government had it been considered, upon our part, desirable to strengthen the alliance.
Whilst still in the Sindh country, Burnes received instructions from the Supreme Government of India to hold himself in readiness to undertake the charge of the “commercial” mission which it had been determined to despatch to Afghanistan, and to proceed to Bombay to make preparations for the journey.[114] He reached that Presidency in the course of October, 1836, and on the 26th of November, accompanied by Lieutenant Leech, of the Bombay Engineers, and Lieutenant Wood, of the Indian Navy,[115] Burnes sailed from Bombay to “work out the policy of opening the River Indus to commerce”—that policy, the splendid results of which, years afterwards, when our army, our treasury, and our reputation, had been buried in the passes of Afghanistan, Lord Palmerston openly boasted in Parliament amidst the derisive cheers of the House.
Taking the Sindh route, Burnes presented himself at the Court of the Ameers, and was hospitably received. The English officer explained the object of his mission; talked about the navigation of the Indus; and dwelt encouragingly upon the instructions which he had received, “to endeavour to infuse confidence into all classes by a declaration of the happy and close friendship which subsisted between the British and the powers on the Indus.” From Hyderabad he proceeded to Bahwulpore; and thence to Dehra Gazee Khan. At the latter place he received intelligence of the battle of Jumrood; and, pushing on to the neighbourhood of Peshawur, soon found himself near the theatre of war. From Peshawur to Jumrood, Avitabile[116] drove the British officers in his carriage. The deputation that was to conduct them through the Khybur Pass had not made its appearance. They were suffering martyrdom from the effluvia of the putrifying corpses of the Afghan and Sikh soldiers who had fallen in the recent conflict; and, at all hazards, they determined to push on. The Khybur was cleared without accident or obstruction. Friendly deputations from the Ameer greeted the British officers as they advanced. On the 20th of September, they entered Caubul.
They were received “with great pomp and splendour.” At the head of a fine body of Afghan cavalry Akbar Khan came out to meet them. Placing Burnes on an elephant beside him, he conducted the British officers to his father’s Court. Nothing could have been more honourable than the reception of the British Mission. A spacious and beautiful garden within the Balla Hissar, and near the palace, was allotted as the residence of Burnes and his companions.
On the following day, “with many expressions of his high sense of the great honour conferred upon him,” Dost Mahomed formally received the representatives of the British Government. Burnes submitted his credentials. The letters were opened by the Ameer himself, and read by his minister, Meerza Samee Khan. They introduced Burnes to his Highness solely as a commercial agent. The flimsy veil was soon dropped. It was evident from the first that whatever might have been his instructions—whatever might have been the proximate, or rather the ostensible object of the mission, Burnes had ulterior designs, and that he, in reality, went to Caubul either as a spy or a political diplomatist. He had not been three days at the Afghan capital, before he wrote to Mr. Macnaghten, that he should take an early opportunity of reporting what transpired at the Ameer’s Court; and ten days afterwards we find him announcing “the result of his inquiries on the subject of Persian influence in Caubul, and the exact power which the Kuzzilbash, or Persian party resident in this city, have over the politics of Afghanistan.” To a private friend he wrote more distinctly: “I came to look after commerce, to superintend surveys and examine passes of mountains, and likewise certainly to see into affairs and judge of what was to be done hereafter; but the hereafter has already arrived.”[117] It is hard to say what our Oriental diplomatists would do if they were forbidden the use of the word “commerce.” It launched Burnes fairly into the sea of Afghan politics; and then he cut it adrift.
On the 24th of September, Burnes was invited to a private conference with the Ameer. It took place in “the interior of the Harem” of the Balla Hissar, and in the presence only of Akbar Khan. Dinner was served; and “the interview lasted till midnight.” The Ameer listened attentively to all that Burnes advanced relative to the navigation of the Indus and the trade of Afghanistan, but replied, that his resources were so crippled by his war with the Sikhs, that he was compelled to adopt measures injurious to commerce, for the mere purpose of raising revenue. He spoke with much warmth of the loss of Peshawur, which, he alleged, had been basely wrested from him, whilst he was engaged in war with Shah Soojah. Burnes replied with a number of cut-and-dried sentences about the ability and resources of Runjeet Singh. To all this the Ameer cheerfully assented. He acknowledged that he was not strong enough to cope with so powerful an adversary as the ruler of Lahore. “Instead of renewing the conflict,” he said, “it would be a source of real gratification if the British Government would counsel me how to act: none of our other neighbours can avail me; and in return I would pledge myself to forward its commercial and its political views.” Remarking that he heard with pleasure this acknowledgment, Burnes assured him that the British Government would exert itself to secure peace between the Punjab and Afghanistan; and added, that although he could not hold out any promise of interference for the restoration of Peshawur, which had been won and preserved by the sword, he believed that the “Maharajah intended to make some change in its management, but that it sprung from himself, and not from the British Government.” The Ameer could not repress his eagerness to learn the precise character of these contemplated arrangements; but all that Burnes could offer was a conjecture that the Maharajah might be induced to restore the country, under certain restrictions, to Sultan Mahomed Khan and his brothers, to whom, and not to the Ameer, it had formerly belonged.
On the evening of the 4th of October, Burnes was again invited to the Balla Hissar. The Ameer had in the mean time waited upon him in his own quarters. At this second conference in the palace, the Newab Jubbar Khan was present. On this occasion, to the surprise of the British envoy, the Ameer carried his moderation and humility to an excess which might almost have aroused suspicion. He declared that if the representative of Great Britain recommended him to do so, he would express to Runjeet Singh his contrition for the past, and ask forgiveness; and that if the Maharajah “would consent to give up Peshawur to him, he would hold it tributary to Lahore; send the requisite presents of horses and rice; and in all things consider himself, in that part of his dominions, as holding under Lahore.” Burnes suggested that such an arrangement would be destructive to the hopes of Sultan Mahomed, who ought to be regarded with compassion; and asked whether it would not be equally advantageous to the reputation of the Ameer that Peshawur should be restored to his brother. To this the Ameer replied, that the country might as well be in the hands of the Sikhs as in those of Sultan Mahomed, who had been to him both a treacherous friend and a bitter enemy. Little more passed at this meeting. Burnes retired to speculate upon the conduct of the Ameer and write letters to the political Secretary, Mr. Macnaghten, who was destined soon to play so conspicuous a part in the great drama, of which this “Commercial” mission was the prologue.
In the meanwhile the attention of the Mission was directed to the state of affairs at Candahar. The chief of that place, Kohun Dil Khan, had not only declared his willingness to embrace the Persian alliance, but had, as we have seen, determined on sending his second son, with the Persian agent, to Mahomed Shah, as the bearer of presents to the Shah and the Russian embassy. Against this course of procedure Dost Mahomed had protested. “Oh! my brother,” he wrote, “if you will do these things without my concurrence, what will the world say to it?” There can be no doubt of the Ameer’s sincerity. Indeed, it was the conviction that the Caubul chief was entering with his whole soul into the British alliance, to the exclusion, as it was believed, of the Candahar Sirdars, that drove the latter to strengthen their alliance with the Persian Court. Burnes himself had no doubt that the Ameer was at this time acting a straightforward part. On the 30th of October he wrote to a private friend: “Here a hundred things are passing of the highest interest. … Dost Mahomed Khan has fallen into all our views, and in so doing has either thought for himself or followed my counsel, but for doing the former I give him every credit, and things now stand so that I think we are on the threshold of a negotiation with King Runjeet, the basis of which will be his withdrawal from Peshawur, and a Barukzye receiving it as a tributary of Lahore, the chief of Caubul sending his son to ask pardon. What say you to this after all that has been urged of Dost Mahomed Khan’s putting forth extravagant pretensions? Runjeet will accede to the plan, I am certain. … I have, in behalf of Government, agreed to stand as mediator with the parties, and Dost Mahomed has cut asunder all his connexion with Russia and Persia, and refused to receive the ambassador from the Shah now at Candahar. His brothers at that city have, however, caressed the Persian Elchee all the more for this, and I have sent them such a Junius as, I believe, will astonish them. I had, indeed, reason to act promptly, for they have a son setting out for Teheran with presents to the Shah and the Russian ambassador; and I hope I shall be in time to explain our hostility to such conduct. Everything here has, indeed, run well; and but for our deputation at the time it happened, the house we occupy would have been tenanted by a Russian Agent and a Persian Elchee.”[118]
On the 31st of October, Burnes wrote to Mr. Macnaghten that another conference had taken place on the 24th between himself and the Ameer, and that what passed on that occasion “set Dost Mahomed’s conduct in a light that must prove, as I believe, very gratifying to Government.” On the British Envoy expressing the regret which he felt on being made acquainted with the misguided conduct of the Candahar Sirdars, the Ameer had declared that if such conduct was distressing to the British agent, it was much more distressing to him; that he himself repented of having ever listened to the overtures of Persia; that he would take care publicly to manifest his desire to strengthen his relations with the British Government, and do everything in his power to induce his Candahar brothers to adopt a wiser course of policy. Burnes replied that he was delighted to hear the expression of such sentiments; but distinctly stated “that neither he nor his brothers were to found hopes of receiving aid from the British Government;” that so long as they conducted themselves with propriety they might rely upon the sympathy of the British Government, but that they must, by no means, expect to derive anything more substantial from the alliance.[119] Discouraging as this was, the Ameer still courted the British alliance—still declared that he would exert himself to the utmost to detach his Candahar brothers from their connexion with Persia, and even, if desired by the British agent, would commence active operations against them. Discountenancing the idea of an active movement against Candahar, Burnes commended the good feeling of the Ameer, and exhorted him to do his best, by pacific means, to break down Kohun Dil’s connexion with Persia—an effort which “could not fail to be received by the British Government as a strong mark of his desire for our friendship, and of great good sense.”
Burnes, who had gone to Caubul, as a commercial agent, was at this time without any political instructions. As he ascended the Indus, he had received letters from Government, somewhat modifying the character of his mission, and placing a larger amount of discretion in his hands.[120] But he did not feel that he was in a position to deal with the Peshawur question without positive instructions from the Supreme Government; so all that he could now do was to temporise, to amuse Dost Mahomed with vague assurances of sympathy and good-will, until the wishes of the Governor-General were conveyed to him in a specific shape. He could promise nothing substantial. He could only write for instructions, and await patiently the receipt of letters from Hindostan.
But Burnes, though he shrunk from compromising his government in the direction of Lahore, had no such scruples with regard to the proceedings of the Barukzye Sirdars in the countries to the westward. He thought that some latitude having been allowed him, he might take prompt measures to meet a pressing difficulty threatening us from a quarter so far removed from the ordinary circle embraced by the deliberations of the Calcutta Council. Before he entered Afghanistan the conduct of the Candahar chiefs had engaged his serious attention, and he had written to the British minister at the Persian Court, saying that he should leave nothing undone to try and put a stop to their intercourse with the Russian mission. “If matters go rightly,” he added, “we shall be able to neutralise the power of the Candahar chiefs, or at all events place them in complete subjection to Dost Mahomed Khan, whose influence increases daily.” Burnes, as has been seen,[121] had despatched in October a letter to Kohun Dil Khan, threatening him with the displeasure of the British Government if he continued his intrigues with the Persian and Russian Court; and the measures taken at this time were so far successful, that, encouraged by their result, the British agent determined to take further steps to secure the alliance of the chiefs of Candahar. On the 22nd of December, Burnes became convinced of the improved temper of Kohun Dil Khan, who declared that he had dismissed the Persian Elchee, had determined not to send his son to the Persian Court, and was anxious, above all things, for the counsel and assistance of the British Government, and of his brother, Dost Mahomed Khan. Mahomed Shah had by this time begun to cool down in his zeal for the Afghan alliance; and it appeared to be at least possible that the Sirdar, instead of receiving Herat from the Shah, would, after the capture of that place, be threatened with the loss of Candahar. Seizing the opportunity afforded him by this favorable change in the aspect of affairs, Burnes wrote at once to Kohun Dil Khan, stating that if the Persian monarch threatened to subdue his chiefship, he would go at once to Candahar, accompanied by Dost Mahomed, and assist him by every means in his power, even to the extent of paying his troops.
In the meanwhile he determined to despatch at once an officer of the British Mission to Candahar. That officer was Lieutenant Leech. On Christmas-day, Burnes sat down and wrote him a long and clearly-worded letter of instructions. It was hoped that the presence of a British agent at Candahar would keep Persia in check, and if not, he could despatch to Caubul the earliest intelligence of the advance of the Persian army, and so enable Burnes to counteract the movement with the least possible delay.[122]
Burnes exceeded his instructions, and was severely censured by the Governor-General. Lord Auckland was then on his way to Simlah; and from Bareilly Mr. Secretary Macnaghten wrote a long letter to the Caubul agent, at the close of which he touched upon the promises made to the Candahar chiefs. “It is with great pain,” he said, “that his Lordship must next proceed to advert to the subject of the promises which you have held out to the chiefs of Candahar. These promises were entirely unauthorised by any part of your instructions. They are most unnecessarily made in unqualified terms, and they would, if supported, commit the Government upon the gravest questions of general policy. His Lordship is compelled, therefore, decidedly to disapprove them. He is only withheld from a direct disavowal of these engagements to the chiefs of Candahar, because such disavowal would carry with it the declaration of a difference between you and your Government, and might weaken your personal influence, and because events might, in this interval, have occurred which would render such a course unnecessary. But the rulers of Candahar must not be allowed to rest in confidence upon promises so given, and should affairs continue in the same uncertainty as that which prevailed at the date of your last despatches, you will endeavour to set yourself right with the chiefs, and will feel yourself bound in good faith to admit that you have exceeded your instructions and held out hopes, which you find, upon communication with your Government, cannot be realised. After what has been stated, his Lordship feels that he need not enlarge on his strict injunction that you in future conform punctually on all points to the orders issued for your guidance.”[123] And so Burnes was censured for a measure which, under all the circumstances of the case, was the very best that could have been adopted; and the Candahar chiefs threw themselves again into the Persian alliance, and entered into a formal treaty with the Shah—under a Russian guarantee.
In the mean while a new actor had appeared on the political stage, ready to pick up the leavings of the British agent, and to appreciate what the British Government had been pleased to reject. On the afternoon of the 19th of December, a Russian officer named Vickovich,[124] entered the city of Caubul. Born of a good family in Lithuania, and educated in the national university of Wilna, he had attracted attention, whilst yet a student, by the liberality of his sentiments and the fearlessness with which he expressed them. Associated with others of kindred opinions and equal enthusiasm, he took part in a demonstration in favour of the Polish cause, which well-nigh ended in the suppression of the institution; and, whilst other more formidable conspirators were condemned to end their days in Siberia, he and his immediate colleagues in the university were sent to Orenburgh, as a kind of honourable exile, to be employed in the military colony of the Ural. Here the general intelligence, the aptitude for instruction, the love of adventure, and the daring character of young Vickovich, soon distinguished him above his associates. Attached to the expeditions sent out for the survey of the Desht-i-Kipchak, he lived for some years among the Calmucks, gaining an acquaintance with the Nogai and Jaghatai dialects of the Turkish language, and subsequently, during a residence of some months in Bokhara, whither he was sent with the Caravan from Orenburgh, acquired a sufficient knowledge of the Persian language to enable him to converse intelligibly, if not fluently, in it. When, therefore, the Russian Government began to meditate a mission to Caubul, and to cast about for a competent agent, there seemed to be no likelier man than Vickovich to perform, with advantage to the state, the dubious service required of him. He was at this time aide-de-camp to the Governor of Orenburgh. The Caubul agency was entrusted to him without hesitation. He was despatched at once to Astrakan, whence he crossed over to Resht, in Ghilan, and received his final instructions from Count Simonich, at Teheran, in September, 1837. Before the end of December he was at Caubul.[125]
On the day after the arrival of Vickovich at Caubul, Burnes reported the incident to the supreme Government, and detailed the circumstances of his reception. Like almost everything in Burnes’s public letters, which places the conduct of Dost Mahomed in a favourable light, the following passages were cut out of the correspondence before it was placed in the printer’s hands;-“On the morning of the 19th,” wrote Burnes, “that is, yesterday, the Ameer came over from the Balla Hissar early in the morning with a letter from his son, the Governor of Ghuznee, reporting that the Russian agent had arrived at that city on his way to Caubul. Dost Mahomed Khan said that he had come for my counsel on the occasion; that he wished to have nothing to do with any other power than the British; that he did not wish to receive any agent of any power whatever so long as he had a hope of sympathy from us; and that he would order the Russian agent to be turned out, detained on the road, or act in any way I desired him. I asked the Ameer if he knew on what business the agent had come, and if he were really an agent from Russia. He replied that I had read all his letters from Candahar, and that he knew nothing more. I then stated that it was a sacred rule among civilised nations not to refuse to receive emissaries in time of peace, and that I could not take upon myself to advise him to refuse any one who declared himself duly accredited, but that the Ameer had it in his power to show his feeling on the occasion by making a full disclosure to the British Government of the errand on which the individual had come; to which he most readily assented. After this the Ameer despatched a servant on the road to Ghuznee to prevent the agent’s entering Caubul without notice; but so rapid has been his journey, that he met him a few miles from the city, which he entered in the afternoon, attended by two of the Ameer’s people. He has not yet seen the Ameer. He has sent a letter from Count Simonich, which I have seen, and states that he is the bearer of letters from Mahomed Shah and the Emperor of Russia. I shall take an early opportunity of reporting on the proceedings of the Russian agent, if he be so in reality; for, if not an impostor, it is a most uncalled-for proceeding, after the disavowal of the Russian Government, conveyed through Count Nesselrode, alluded to in Mr. M’Neill’s letter of 19th of June last.”[126]
The letters of which Vickovich was the bearer, like those brought by Burnes, were purely of a commercial tendency. One was from the Emperor himself; the other from Count Simonich—written in the Russian and the Persian languages. The authenticity of the letter from the Emperor has been questioned.[127] The fact is, that it was one to be acknowledged or repudiated, as most convenient. It was intended to satisfy Dost Mahomed on the one hand, and to be suspected by the European allies of Russia upon the other. That it came from the Cabinet of St. Petersburgh there is now little room to doubt.
Burnes, however, for some time, was doubtful of the real character of the agent and his credentials; but after some weeks of hesitation, he wrote to Mr. Macnaghten, “Though a month and upwards has elapsed since Mr. Vickovich reached Caubul, and my suspicions were from the first excited regarding his real character, I have been unable to discover anything to invalidate the credentials which he brought, or to cast a doubt on his being other than he gives himself out, and this, too, after much vigilance and inquiry.”
This was written on the 22nd of January. In the same letter Burnes writes: “Mr. Vickovich himself has experienced but little attention from the Ameer, and has yet received no reply to his communications. He has been accommodated in a part of a house belonging to Meerza Samee Khan, and is entertained at the public expense. He paid his respects to the Ameer on the 12th of January, and has had no other personal intercourse with him. He has been urging the Ameer to send an agent to Count Simonich to receive the presents of the Emperor.” Nothing, indeed, could have been more discouraging than the reception of the Russian agent. Dost Mahomed still clung to the belief that the British Government would look favourably upon his case, and was willing to receive a little from England, rather than much from any other state. But he soon began to perceive that even that little was not to be obtained. Before the close of the month of January, Burnes had received specific instructions from the Governor-General, and was compelled, with the strongest feelings of reluctance and mortification, to strangle the hopes Dost Mahomed had encouraged of the friendly mediation of the British Government between the Ameer and Runjeet Singh.
The whole question of Peshawur was now fully discussed. Burnes, with his instructions in his hand, miserably fettered and restrained, enunciated the opinions of his government, from which he inwardly dissented, and strove, in obedience to the orders he had received, to make the worse appear the better reason. Dost Mahomed was moderate and reasonable; and Burnes must have felt that the argument was all in favour of the Ameer. That others, in higher place, thought so too, is clearly indicated by the fact that pains have been taken to keep the world in ignorance of what Dost Mahomed, on this occasion, advanced with so much reason and moderation in reply to the official arguments of the British agent, who was compelled to utter words which were dictated neither by the feelings nor the judgment of the man.
In a letter of the 26th of January, which I now have before me in an ungarbled state, Burnes forwarded to the Governor-General a full account of the important conference between the Ameer and himself, held after the receipt, by the latter, of instructions from the Governor-General.[128] At this meeting Burnes communicated to Dost Mahomed the sentiments of the Governor-General, and recommended the Ameer, in accordance with the opinions expressed by Lord Auckland, to waive his own claims to Peshawur, and be content with such arrangements as Runjeet Singh might be inclined to enter into with Sultan Mahomed. The Ameer replied that he bore no enmity against his brother, though his brother was full of rancour against him, and would gladly compass his destruction; but that with Sultan Mahomed, at Peshawur, he would not be safe for a day; and that it would be less injurious to him to leave it directly in the hands of the Sikhs, than in the hands of an enemy ever ready to intrigue with the Sikhs for his overthrow.
“Peshawur,” said he, “has been conquered by the Sikhs; it belongs to them; they may give it to whomsoever they please; if to Sultan Mahomed Khan, they place it in the hands of one who is bent on injuring me; and I cannot therefore acknowledge any degree of gratitude for your interference, or take upon myself to render services in return.” And then follow these mollifying sentences, which it was a gross injustice to Dost Mahomed to omit from the published letter: “I admit,” said the Ameer, “that it will be highly beneficial in many ways to see the Sikhs once more eastward of the Indus, but I still can dispense with none of my troops or relax in my precautionary measures, as equal if not greater anxieties will attach to me. I have unbosomed myself to you, and laid bare, without any suppression, my difficulties. I shall bear in lively remembrance the intended good offices of the British Government, and I shall deplore that my interest did not permit me to accept that which was tendered in a spirit so friendly, but which to me and my advisers has only seemed hastening my ruin. To Runjeet Singh your interference is beneficial, as he finds himself involved in serious difficulties by the possession of Peshawur, and he is too glad of your good offices to escape from a place which is a burden to his finances, but by that escape a debt of gratitude is exactible from him and not from me; and if your government will look into this matter, they will soon discover my opinions to be far from groundless, and my conclusions the only safe policy I can pursue.”
The Ameer ceased to speak, and Jubbar Khan followed, proposing a compromise. He suggested that it might be found advisable to deliver over Peshawur conjointly to the Ameer and Sultan Mahomed—Runjeet Singh receiving from the two chiefs the value which he might fix as the terms of surrender. The Ameer observed that such an arrangement[129] would remove his fears, and that if he appointed Jubbar Khan to represent him at Peshawur he would be sure of an equitable adjustment of affairs. Burnes replied in general terms that the withdrawal of the Sikhs to the eastward of the Indus would be a vast benefit to the Afghan nation; and asked Dost Mahomed whether he would rather see the Sikhs or Sultan Mahomed in Peshawur. The Ameer replied that the question put in plain words was a startling one; but he asked in return if that could be considered beneficial to the Afghan nation which was especially injurious to him who possessed the largest share of sovereignty in Afghanistan. He then observed, in evidence of the truth of his assertions relative to the dangers to which he was exposed from the supremacy of Sultan Mahomed at Peshawur: “Sultan Mahomed Khan has just sent an agent to the ex-King at Loodhianah (Shah Soojah) to offer his services to combine against me and to secure my brothers at Candahar, in support of this coalition.” “What security,” asked the Ameer, “am I to receive against a recurrence of such practices?” He then continued: “As for the ex-King himself, I fear him not; he has been too often worsted to make head, unless he has aid from the British Government, which I am now pretty certain he will never receive. If my brother at Peshawur, however, under a promise of being made his minister, and assisted with Sikh agents and money, appears in the field, I may find that in expressing my satisfaction at his restoration to Peshawur, I have been placing a snake in my bosom—and I may then, when too late, lament that I did not let the Sikhs do their worst, instead of replacing them by another description of enemies.”
All this was carefully erased from the letter before it was allowed to form a part of the published Blue Book; and the following just observations of Captain Burnes shared no better fate: “It has appeared to me that they” (the opinions and views of the ruler of Caubul) “call for much deliberation. It will be seen that the chief is not bent on possessing Peshawur, or on gratifying an enmity towards his brothers, but simply pursuing the worldly maxim of securing himself from injury; the arguments which he has adduced seem deserving of every consideration, and the more so when an avowed partisan of Sultan Mahomed does not deny the justice of the Ameer’s objection.” And further on, our agent observes: “Since arriving here, I have seen an agent of Persia with alluring promises, after penetrating as far as Candahar, compelled to quit the country because no one has sent to invite him to Caubul. Following him, an agent of Russia with letters highly complimentary, and promises more than substantial, has experienced no more civility than is due by the laws of hospitality and nations. It may be urged by some that the offers of one or both were fallacious, but such a dictum is certainly premature; the Ameer of Caubul has sought no aid in his arguments from such offers, but declared that his interests are bound up in an alliance with the British Government, which he never will desert as long as there is a hope of securing one.” There is much more in a similar strain—much more cancelled from the published correspondence—with the deliberate intention of injuring the character and misrepresenting the conduct of Dost Mahomed, and so justifying their after-conduct towards him—but enough has already been given to prove how mightily the Ameer has been wronged.
I cannot, indeed, suppress the utterance of my abhorrence of this system of garbling the official correspondence of public men—sending the letters of a statesman or diplomatist into the world mutilated, emasculated—the very pith and substance of them cut out by the unsparing hand of the state-anatomist. The dishonesty by which lie upon lie is palmed upon the world has not one redeeming feature. If public men are, without reprehension, to be permitted to lie in the face of nations—wilfully, elaborately, and maliciously to bear false-witness against their neighbours, what hope is there for private veracity? In the case before us, the suppressio veri is virtually the assertio falsi. The character of Dost Mahomed has been lied away; the character of Burnes has been lied away. Both, by the mutilation of the correspondence of the latter, have been fearfully misrepresented—both have been set forth as doing what they did not, and omitting to do what they did. I care not whose knife—whose hand did the work of mutilation. And, indeed, I do not know. I deal with principles, not with persons; and have no party ends to serve. The cause of truth must be upheld. Official documents are the sheet-anchors of historians—the last courts of appeal to which the public resort. If these documents are tampered with; if they are made to misrepresent the words and actions of public men, the grave of truth is dug, and there is seldom a resurrection. It is not always that an afflicted parent is ready to step forward on behalf of an injured child, and to lay a memorial at the feet of his sovereign, exposing the cruelty by which an honourable man has been represented in state documents, as doing that which was abhorrent to his nature. In most cases the lie goes down, unassailed and often unsuspected, to posterity; and in place of sober history, we have a florid romance.
I ask pardon for this digression—In spite of the declarations of Burnes that Dost Mahomed had little to hope from the co-operation of the British Government, the Russian Mission made scant progress at the Afghan capital. Alluding to the negotiations of our agent, Vickovich wrote some time afterwards: “All this has occasioned Dost Mahomed Khan to conduct himself very coldly towards me; and then, as he daily converses with Burnes, from my arrival here to the 20th of February I have hardly been two or three times in his presence.” The fact is, that up to this time, as we are assured on the concurrent testimony of the British and the Russian agent, the latter was received in a scurvy and discouraging manner. But on the 21st of February letters were opened from the Governor-General, stating, in the most decisive language, that there was no intention to accede to the proposals of the Ameer, and that Peshawur must be left to the Sikhs. Then, but not till then, a change came over the conduct of Dost Mahomed, and the Russian Mission began to rise in importance.
But still another effort was to be made by the Barukzyes to secure the friendship of the British Government. On the 1st of March, Jubbar Khan came in from his country-seat, and next morning called upon Burnes. He had read Lord Auckland’s discouraging letter; but he still believed that, through his agency, for he was notoriously friendly to the British, something might yet be done. His efforts, however, were fruitless. Burnes, tied down by his instructions, could give the Newab no encouragement. The British Government called upon Dost Mahomed to abstain from connecting himself with every other state; and promised, as the price of this isolation, that they would restrain Runjeet Singh from attacking his dominions; “And that,” said Jubbar Khan, “amounts to nothing, for we are not under the apprehension of any aggressions from the side of Lahore.”[130] The Peshawur difficulty, he said, might be got over; but the offer of so little, in return for so much that was asked from the Ameer, placed him in a most humiliating position, and would, if accepted, lower him in the eyes of the world. Meerza Samee Khan, next day, told the same story;[131] but fettered by the orders of the Supreme Government, Burnes could give him no hope.
On the 5th of March, Jubbar Khan again appeared before Burnes with a string of specific demands, dictated by the Ameer. “These consisted of a promise to protect Caubul and Candahar from Persia; of the surrender of Peshawur by Runjeet Singh; of the interference of our government to protect, at that city, those who might return to it from Caubul, supposing it to be restored to Sultan Mahomed Khan; with several other proposals.” Upon this Burnes, with an expression of astonishment, declared that, on the part of the British Government, he could accede to none of these propositions; and added, that as he saw no hope of a satisfactory adjustment, he should request his dismissal. “The Newab,” said Burnes, “left me in sorrow.”
The British agent then sat down, and drew up a formal letter to the Ameer, requesting leave to depart for Hindostan. In spite of what had taken place, the letter somewhat startled the Ameer, who summoned a meeting of his principal advisers, “which lasted till past midnight.”[132] On the following morning the conference was resumed; and about mid-day Meerza Samee Khan waited on Burnes, and invited him to attend the Ameer in the Balla Hissar. Gracious and friendly even beyond his ordinary courtesy and urbanity, Dost Mahomed expressed his regret that the Governor-General had shown so little inclination to meet his wishes; but added, that he did not even then despair of forming an alliance advantageous both to England and Afghanistan. A long argument then ensued; but it led to nothing. The old ground was travelled over again and again. Burnes asked for everything; but promised nothing. He had no power to make any concessions. The meeting, though it ended amicably, was productive of no good results. Burnes took his departure from the Balla Hissar. He might as well have departed from Caubul.
On the 21st of March, the Ameer wrote a friendly letter to Lord Auckland, imploring him, in language almost of humility, to “remedy the grievances of the Afghans;” to “give them a little encouragement and power.” It was the last despairing effort of the Afghan chief to conciliate the good-will of the British Government. It failed. The fiat had gone forth. The judgment against him was not to be reversed. Other meetings took place; but Burnes knew them to be mere formalities. He remained at Caubul with no hope of bringing matters to a favourable issue; but because it was convenient to remain. He was awaiting the return from Koondooz of Dr. Lord and Lieutenant Wood. The month of March passed away, and the greater part of April. These officers did not rejoin the Mission. But one of the Candahar Sirdars, Mehr Dil Khan, appeared at Caubul, with the object of winning over the Ameer to the Persian alliance. The “do-nothing policy,” as Burnes subsequently characterised it, had done its work. The Russians, as he said, had given us the coup-de-grace. Vickovich was publicly sent for, and paraded through the streets of Caubul. So Burnes determined to depart. Accordingly, on the 26th of April, he turned his back upon the Afghan capital.[133]
Burnes went; and Vickovich, who had risen greatly in favour, soon took his departure for Herat, promising everything that Dost Mahomed wanted—engaging to furnish money to the Barukzye chiefs, and undertaking to propitiate Runjeet Singh.[134] The Russian quitted Caubul, accompanied by Aboo Khan Barukzye, a confidential friend of Dost Mahomed. It had been arranged that Azim Khan, the Ameer’s son, accompanied by the minister, should be despatched to the Shah; but this arrangement being set aside, in consequence of the scruples of the Meerza, Aboo Khan was sent in their place. There were now no half measures to be pursued. Dost Mahomed had flung himself into the arms of the Persian King.
Vickovich was received with all honour in Western Afghanistan.[135] Russian promises now began to carry everything before them. A treaty between the Candahar brothers and the Shah was drawn up and signed by the latter. The Russian ambassador to whom it was forwarded sent it back to the Sirdars, saying, “Mahomed Shah has promised to give you the possession of Herat: I sincerely tell you that you will also get Ghorian, on my account, from the Shah. … When Mahomed Omar Khan arrives here I will ask the Shah to quit Herat, and I will remain here with 12,000 troops, and, when you join, we will take Herat, which will afterwards be delivered to you,”—magnificent promises, most refreshing to the souls of the Candahar chiefs. The letter was sent on to Dost Mahomed; but it did not fill the heart of the Ameer with an equal measure of delight. The Russian alliance was unpopular at Caubul. It had “ruined him in the eyes of all Mahomedans.” It soon became obvious, too, in spite of the fair beginning, that whilst he was losing everything by the dissolution of his friendship with the British, the Russians could really do nothing to assist him. Mahomed Shah was wasting his strength before Herat. The Persian army, under the command of the Sovereign himself, moved by Russian diplomacy and directed by Russian skill, was only precipitating itself into an abyss of failure, and the Candahar brethren, who had been promised so much, were linking themselves with a decrepit cause, from which they were likely to gain nothing. Soon other tidings came to alarm him. The Russian game was nearly played out; and the resentment of the British was about to break forth in a manner which threatened the total extinction of Barukzye supremacy in Afghanistan. He looked out towards the West, and he could plainly see that, in flinging himself upon Russo-Persian support, he had trusted to a foundation of sand. The ground was shifting under his feet. His new friends were not able to assist him. A subaltern of the British army within the walls of Herat was setting them at defiance.