Far Pavilions (145 page)
Not surprisingly, this choice of messenger did nothing to make the Amir feel more kindly disposed towards the British; while to make matters worse, Shere Ali was in ill-health and prostrated with grief at the sudden death of his favourite son, the beloved Mir Jan, whom he had chosen to succeed him. The emissary failed to make any headway, and by mid-September was writing to warn the Government that the Amir was in a bad humour, but that his ministers were still hopeful that a satisfactory solution might be achieved, and that he himself was convinced that further discussions were possible – provided the British Mission would delay its departure.
He need not have stressed that last, for travel was slow and Sir Neville Chamberlain, the Envoy Elect, had not yet arrived in Peshawar. When he eventually did so, it was to find that although the Amir had still not come to any decision, Major Cavagnari, anticipating a possible refusal, had already begun negotiating with the Maliks (headmen) of the Khyber tribes for a free passage for the Mission through their several territories. His discussions, unlike those in Kabul, were going well, and agreement had almost been reached when the Governor of the Khyber fortress of Ali Masjid, one Faiz Mohammed, came to hear of them and sent peremptory orders to the Maliks that they were to return immediately to their villages.
The Khyber tribes being titular subjects of the Amir, and their territories – the lands between Peshawar and Ali Masjid – part of Afghanistan, there was only one way to keep them from obeying this command: undertake to pay them the yearly subsidy that they had hitherto received from the Amir, and which would be cut off if they defied Faiz Mohammed's order.
But no one knew better than Major Cavagnari that any such action on the part of the Government would be regarded as an indefensible attempt to detach the tribes from their allegiance to the Amir, and that such hostile behaviour would only serve to convince Shere Ali that the British Mission, far from being ‘friendly and peaceful’, was in fact the spearhead of an invading army. He therefore abandoned his talks and referred the matter to the Viceroy; who agreed that until the Amir decided for or against the Mission, any private bargaining with the tribes might provide him with legitimate grounds for complaint, but suggested forcing matters to a crisis by sending a letter to Governor Faiz Mohammed, informing him that the Mission intended to set out for Kabul at once, and asking whether he was prepared to grant it safe passage through the Khyber Pass. Should the answer be unfavourable, then Sir Neville Chamberlain was to make a settlement with the Khyber tribes and advance on Ali Masjid…
The letter had been dispatched, and Faiz Mohammed had sent a polite reply, pointing out that there was no need to ask his permission, as provided the Amir had given his consent to the Mission proceeding to Kabul, they could do so in safety. On the other hand, if His Highness withheld his consent and they came without it, the garrison of Ali Masjid would be forced to oppose their advance; therefore he would suggest that the Mission delayed its departure and remained in Peshawar until the Amir's decision was known.
But the Envoy, like the Viceroy, had grown impatient of continued procrastination, and come to believe that the British had a right to send a Mission to Afghanistan and that the Amir had no right to refuse them. He sent a telegram to Simla announcing that the Mission was leaving Peshawar for Jamrud, at the limits of British-held territory, and that from there Major Cavagnari, with Colonel Jenkins of the Guides and one or two others, would go forward to Ali Masjid to test the Afghan reaction. If Faiz Mohammed refused to allow them to pass, this could be regarded as a hostile act and equivalent to being fired upon, and the Mission could then return to Peshawar without the disgrace of being turned back.
Cavagnari and his party, which in addition to Colonel Jenkins included Wigram Battye, half-a-dozen men of the Guides and some of the Khyber Maliks, duly left for Ali Masjid where the Governor, true to his promise, duly turned them back; informing Major Cavagnari that considering he had come without permission, after trying to suborn certain subjects of the Amir into giving him passage through His Highness's territories – thereby setting Afridi against Afridi – he could take it as a kindness on account of remembered friendship that he, Faiz Mohammed, had not opened fire on him for the deeds that his Government had done. ‘After which,’ said Wigram, describing the incident to Wally, ‘he shook hands with us and we remounted and rode back to Jamrud with our tails between our legs: or that was what it felt like.’
Wally whistled expressively and Wigram nodded and said: ‘No, not an experience I would like to repeat. For let's face it, the fellow was right. That was what was so galling. Our Government has not come out of this affair very well, and I cannot help thinking that if I had been an Afridi I'd have felt exactly as Faiz Mohammed did – and I only hope I'd have behaved as well. Yet I'm willing to lay you odds that because he stuck to his guns and refused to allow the Mission free passage through the pass except with his Amir's permission, it will now be claimed that Afghanistan has put an intolerable affront upon Her Majesty's Government and insulted the entire British Nation, so that we now have no recourse but to declare war.’
‘Do you really think so?’ demanded Wally a little breathlessly. He came to his feet like a released spring and began to walk about the room as though he could not keep still. ‘Somehow it doesn't seem possible. I mean… well, one has got used to minor skirmishes, but war – a real war – and an unjust one. It's unthinkable: it can't be allowed to happen. Surely Ash…’ he swung round on his heel and looked at Wigram. ‘Have you heard any news of him?’
‘Only that he is still in touch with Cavagnari, which means that he's all right so far.’
Wally sighed and said restlessly: ‘He did warn me that he wouldn't be able to let us know how things were going with him, because it would be too risky; and that his wife and Zarin had both agreed to this. He said we three were the only ones who knew – apart from you and Cavagnari and the Commandant of course – and that even the fellow who acts as a link between him and Cavagnari, and who is one of Cavagnari's own men, wasn't to be told who he was….that he wasn't an Afghan, I mean. But that Cavagnari would probably let you know that he was keeping in touch, because it had been your idea in the first place.
‘Well, he has let me know, and he is in touch. So you can stop worrying about Ashton.’
‘Can I tell his wife?’
‘Will you be seeing her?’ Wigram sounded surprised and not altogether pleased.
‘No. I promised Ash I'd keep an eye on her, but we decided that it would be better if I didn't call at the house. The old Begum doesn't approve; thinks it might cause too much talk, and she's probably right. But I can always send. a message by Zarin, as no one would think twice about him visiting his aunt's house when he's been doing it for years. I'd like her to know that Ash is all right. It must be very hard on her… not knowing.’
‘Very,’ agreed Wigram. ‘Yes, of course you can let her know. I didn't realize she was still in Attock.’
‘He couldn't take her with him, so he left her with the Begum. She used to know Zarin Khan and his father when she was a little girl, so I suppose she feels safe with Zarin's aunt. I gather she's learning how to handle firearms and speak Pushtu in case Ash should be able to send for her. I wish…’
His voice ran out abruptly, leaving the sentence unfinished, and after a moment or two Wigram said curiously: ‘What is it you wish, Walter?’
Wally's unfocused gaze became alert again and he shook his head quickly in a movement that was very close to a shudder, and said lightly: ‘That you would give up traipsing about with the Great and return to the bosom of your own Regiment. Mardan doesn't seem the same, what with you and Stewart and the Commandant off up the Khyber playing nurse-maid to this Mission we hear so much about. However, after this fiasco at Ali Masjid, I presume you'll all find yourselves out of a job.’
Wally presumed right. A report on the set-back at Ali Masjid had been telegraphed to the Viceroy, who replied by disbanding the Mission.
Lord Lytton had got what he wanted: proof. Proof that ‘the Russian Menace was no turnip lantern, but a grim reality with an Envoy already established in Kabul and an army advancing towards the Hindu Kush. Proof that Shere Ali was a treacherous intriguer, who having spurned the hand of friendship extended by Britain had clasped that of the Muscovite, and might even now be signing a treaty that would permit the establishment of Russian-garrisoned outposts along the very borders of India, and allow Russian troops free passage through the Passes. With General Stolietoff and his suite installed in the Bala Hissar itself, anything was possible. And if more were needed to drive home the necessity for immediate action, it had been provided by the public insult offered to Her Majesty's Envoy Sir Neville Chamberlain and a peaceful British Mission, who had not only been refused permission to enter the Amir's territory, but threatened with force should they attempt to do so. Such treatment was not to be borne, and Lord Lytton for one did not intend to bear it.
As an immediate answer to the rebuff at Ali Masjid, the Guides Corps from Mardan were sent to Jamrud, an ancient Sikh fortress that marked the limits of British-held territory; and two days after the short-lived Mission had been disbanded, orders went out for a strong force to be assembled at Multan for the purpose of crossing the Afghan border and threatening Kandahar, and for other regiments to concentrate on the outpost of Thal, where the Kurram River divided the district of Kohat from Afghan territory. A Sikh regiment and a Mountain Battery were brought from Kohat to strengthen the Peshawar garrison, and Major Cavagnari (who could see little future in attempting to re-open negotiations with the Maliks of the Khyber tribes) came up with a new and revolutionary scheme for bringing them over to the British side without wasting time in laborious talks and endless bargaining…
Asiatics were known to be inordinately impressed by success – and, conversely, to take a scornful view of losers – and as there could be no denying that the British Power had not shown to advantage in the recent confrontation at Ali Masjid, something ought to be done to wipe out that disgrace and earn the admiration of the tribesmen. And what could be better, suggested Louis Cavagnari, than to assault and capture, in a surprise attack, the very fortress whose Governor and garrison had dared to deny a British Mission passage through the Khyber? That should not only serve to teach the Afghans a lesson, but show them what the Raj could do if it chose to exert itself.
The Viceroy was delighted with this scheme, and ignoring the advice of his Commander-in-Chief and Sir Neville Chamberlain – who protested that the risks far outnumbered any advantages that might be gained – he gave, the project his blessing. General Ross, in command at Peshawar, who had also protested, was curtly informed that Ali Masjid must and would be taken. The plan of action involved a swift night march, similar to the one Cavagnari had used so successfully against the Utman Khel tribesmen, followed by a surprise attack at dawn by a force consisting of the Guides and the 1st Sikhs under Colonel Jenkins, supported by 1,000 native and British troops drawn from the Peshawar garrison and supplied with three heavy guns.
As the success of the operation would depend on speed and secrecy, the greatest care must be taken that no hint of the impending attack should be allowed to leak out; and once the fortress was taken, the troops were to be withdrawn, for the Government of India had no intention of holding Ali Masjid, or leaving a garrison there. Their object was not conquest, but merely to demonstrate, by a swift and brilliant feat of arms, that the Raj could not be insulted with impunity, and what its troops were capable of.
‘I don't believe it!’ gasped the Commanding Officer of the 1st Sikhs when informed of this by Colonel Jenkins in the privacy of the latter's bungalow. ‘Are you trying to tell me that we're expected to march our fellows into Afghanistan to attack and capture a fort like Ali Masjid, and if we get it – which I'm not too sure we shall – to about-turn and march meekly back to Peshawar again, leaving the Afghans to cut up our dead and re-occupy the fort the moment our backs are turned? Why, it's crazy! They can't
all
have gone mad in Simla.’
‘I know, I know,’ sighed Colonel Jenkins tiredly. ‘But crazy or not, we're going to have to do what we're told. “Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die.” ’
‘But… but my bearer always knows where the Regiment is being posted long before I do, and in a place like Peshawar, with the city crawling with Pathans, I wouldn't be surprised if they're on to this already and busy sending word to Faiz Mohammed and his levies to prepare a warm welcome for us. “Surprise” my foot! They'll be ready and waiting for us, and it'll be a miracle if we come out of this without being so badly scorched that the game won't have been worth the candle. Do you suppose the General's gone off his rocker?’
‘It's not his idea,’ said Colonel Jenkins. ‘This is one of Cavagnari's brainwaves. He sees it as a quicker and better method of influencing the Khyber Tribes in our favour than trying to buy them over one by one – stun 'em with awe and admiration for our dash and bravery, and dazzle them with a hurricane one-innings victory. He's convinced the Viceroy that it'll work, so perhaps it sounds better on paper.’
‘Then all I can say is that it's a pity it can't be fought on paper!’ observed the Commanding Officer of the 1st Sikhs savagely. To which Colonel Jenkins offered no comment, for he too was appalled by the scheme and could only hope that someone – anyone – would be able to bring the Viceroy and the Deputy Commissioner of Peshawar to their senses before it was too late.
Fortunately, his hope was justified. The Military Member of the Viceroy's Council, learning of it only after the order to act upon it had already been given, declared in forthright language that in his opinion the absurdity of abandoning Ali Masjid after capturing it was only equalled by the folly of taking it: a protest that might have been ignored had it not been for the timely arrival in Simla of a telegram bringing news that Ali Masjid had been strongly reinforced by Afghan troops and artillery.
