The Dark Defile (10 page)

By the end of May 1838 Macnaghten, who had urged Auckland to lose no time, was on his way from Simla to see Ranjit Singh to set in motion Auckland’s policy to depose Dost Mohammed and replace him with Shah Shuja. Auckland, whose natural inclinations were for peace, was left to worry whether he had done the right thing. Not only had he sent Macnaghten to the Sikh court on his own initiative without waiting for endorsement from London, but he started to fret that Ranjit Singh might suspect that the British proposals were a mask for actions to further their territorial ambitions on the Indus. Macnaghten, meanwhile, crossed the Sutlej River marking the boundary between British India and Sikh territory, traveling on elephant back in the extreme pre-monsoon summer heat, and in early June was received by Ranjit Singh in the welcome shade of a grove of mangoes at Adinanagar, northeast of Lahore. Auckland need not have worried; Ranjit Singh was receptive to the British proposals. Suitably encouraged, Macnaghten raised the question of whether the Sikhs would act alone to restore Shah Shuja or whether the British should also be a party to the operation. When Ranjit Singh unhesitatingly opted for a joint operation, wisely preferring to share the risks, Macnaghten suggested the device of adding Britain as a party to the treaty the Sikhs had signed four years previously with Shah Shuja at the time of his own attempt to retake his throne, thus turning it into a new tripartite treaty. Ranjit Singh graciously replied, “
This would be adding sugar to milk.
”

Negotiations
moved to Lahore, where Macnaghten was joined by Burnes, whose opinion he had sought on the policy to restore Shah Shuja. Burnes had replied that “to ensure complete success to the plan, the British Government must appear directly in it; that is, it must not be left to the Sikhs themselves.” He pointed out that Shah Shuja was believed by his people to be an ill-starred man with “no fortune” but suggested “our name will invest him with it.” Burnes also asserted that “the British Government have only to send him [Shah Shuja] to Peshawar with an agent, and two of its own regiments as an honorary escort, and an avowal to the Afghans that we have taken up his cause, to insure his being fixed for ever on the throne.”

The latter was an odd opinion for such a vociferous supporter of Dost Mohammed. In fact, in his note he crossed out the words that he had
no very high opinion
of Shah Shuja. Burnes had perhaps decided that, given his superiors’ apparent determination to cast off Dost Mohammed, the only way to advance his career as well as to achieve the united Afghanistan he favored was to fall in line and to back Shah Shuja. He later wrote to a friend that he decided to support Shah Shuja “not as what was best, but what was best under the circumstances which a series of blunders had produced.” Yet even at this eleventh hour he again spoke up for Dost Mohammed, perhaps to salve his conscience, adding at the end of his note, “It remains to be reconsidered why we cannot act with Dost Mohammed. He is a man of undoubted ability, and has at heart a high opinion of the British nation; and if half you must do for others were done for him, and offers made which he could see conduced to his interests, he would abandon Russia and Persia tomorrow … Government have admitted that he had at best a choice of difficulties; and it should not be forgotten that we promised nothing, and Persia and Russia held out a great deal.”

As he had no doubt anticipated, his plea was ignored. The talks continued against a background of opulent Sikh hospitality with military reviews, gunnery displays and much drinking of fiery spirits. All the time, reports were arriving of the deteriorating situation at Herat, including rumors that a large Russian force was on the way to help the Persians. Fear that two world powers—Britain and Russia—might be about to confront each other on his doorstep convinced Ranjit Singh yet further to throw in his lot with the British and agree to the detailed terms of the new tripartite treaty proposed by Macnaghten.

The enemies of one would be the enemy of all. Shah Shuja was to renounce all rights to Peshawar, Kashmir and other former Afghan territories appropriated by the Sikhs as well as, in return for an agreed payment by the emirs, all claims to suzerainty in Sind. He was to pay Ranjit Singh a large sum of money—the word
tribute
was not used—in return for which, to enable Shah Shuja to save face, the Sikhs would keep five thousand troops at the ready to be sent to Shah Shuja’s assistance in times of need. Shah Shuja was also to send annual gifts to Ranjit Singh, including “
55 high-bred horses of approved colour and pleasant paces,
” turbans, shawls, rice and large amounts of Afghanistan’s famous fruit, which, it was specified with a gourmet’s attention to detail, should include “musk melons of a sweet and delicate flavour … grapes, pomegranates, apples, quinces.”

Shah Shuja would “
oppose any power having the desire to invade the British and Sikh teritories by force of arms to the utmost of his ability
.” He was also to promise not to negotiate with any foreign power unless sanctioned by the British and the Sikhs and not to encroach into Persia. As regards Herat, if Shah Shuja’s nephew Kamran survived the Persian onslaught, he would be allowed to continue to rule there. In return for these concessions, British and Sikh troops would support Shah Shuja’s invasion of his homeland, and he would be given funds to levy and equip an effective army, which would be trained and led by British officers from the company’s army. On 26 June Ranjit Singh put his name to the new treaty, and Macnaghten set off to Ludhiana to coax Shah Shuja to sign as well.

In Herat, meanwhile, food and fuel were almost exhausted, and the population was starving and fever-ridden in the searing summer heat. On 24 June Pottinger thought that the city was about to fall when a determined Persian bombardment was followed by a simultaneous attack on the city’s five gates. Though the attacking Persian columns, now said to be directed by Count Simonich himself, were repulsed from four of the gates, at the fifth they broke through. As Afghan troops fought desperately to hold off the Persians, Pottinger ran to the breached gate to see what was happening. On the way, he met Yar Mohammed. But far from attempting to rally his troops, some of whom were beginning to slink away, the vizier seemed to have given up. Lowering his bulky body, he sat down in despair, and according to Pottinger, it took all his energy to rouse him to action. Yar Mohammed got to his feet again, yelled at his men to hold their ground and for a while they obeyed, but as the Persians pushed forward, the vizier wavered once more. Pottinger seized his arm and, reviling him as a coward, dragged him toward the fighting around the gate. Suddenly Yar Mohammed became a man possessed, laying into his troops with a wooden staff and driving them forward like cattle to overwhelm the astonished attackers who fled back to their camp.

Unaware, of course, of the latest developments at Herat, Macnaghten was warmly welcomed by Shah Shuja in Ludhiana, which he reached on 15 July. Though the former king was startled by the extent of the concessions expected of him, excitement at the prospect of regaining his throne overruled his misgivings and he accepted the tripartite treaty without amendment, assuring Macnaghten that his supporters would rally to him. However, he insisted that his own troops must restore him to the throne, wisely pointing out that “
the fact of his being upheld by foreign force alone could not fail to detract, in a great measure, from his dignity and consequence.
”

The invasion strategy discussed with both Shah Shuja and Ranjit Singh was that the former with his newly recruited British-officered army should pass down the Indus through Sind, whose emirs would have little choice but to cooperate while being, in Burnes’s words, “squeezed like an orange” for funds to support the expedition. Subsequently the army would push up through the Bolan Pass to Quetta, Kandahar and then on to Kabul, while the Sikhs, accompanied by Shah Shuja’s eldest son, Timur, would advance through the Khyber Pass. Auckland had originally envisaged only a minor role for British troops. However, his thinking and that of Macnaghten had changed. Reasonably enough, Auckland had begun to doubt whether Shah Shuja, who had thrice failed to retake his throne and whose military successes had been few, could succeed against Dost Mohammed, especially since he would be allied with the Afghans’ traditional enemies, the Sikhs, which would have a unifying effect on the normally disputatious and divided Afghans. At the same time, Ranjit Singh had been subtly suggesting to Macnaghten that his men had little experience of fighting in the manner required to force the Khyber Pass and might require British assistance. He feared terrible carnage and confessed that he doubted his men “
could be induced to march over the corpses of their countrymen
.”

Auckland sought the advice of Sir Henry Fane, his experienced military commander in chief, on the extent of direct British military involvement. Fane had pronounced views on intervention over the Indus: “
Every advance you might make beyond the Sutlej to the westward, in my opinion adds to your military weakness
.” Instead, Britain should consolidate its position in India: “
Make yourselves complete sovereigns of all within your bounds.
But let alone the far west
,
” he had advised earlier that year. However, if the politicians had decided that an invasion was to go ahead, Fane considered the British had to be there in full and sufficient force to ensure success, especially if the army might in addition be required to dislodge the besieging Persians from Herat, which at the time seemed possible.

Thus by late August 1838 the reluctant Fane was already informing the regiments that were to make up the superbly titled Army of the Indus. They were to include both “native” and European regiments of the East India Company’s armies as well as some Queen’s regiments of the British army posted to India. A total of six regiments of cavalry and eighteen battalions of infantry, together with artillery, engineering and other support, were readied for the campaign. British officers began to recruit and train the levies who were to form Shah Shuja’s army, while Auckland selected the political officers who were to accompany the expedition. Claude Wade was to go with the Sikh army. Burnes’s hopes were high that he would be selected to accompany Shah Shuja. In late July, arriving at Simla to pay his respects to Lord Auckland, he wrote to his brother: “
We are now planning
a grand campaign to restore the Shah to the throne of Kabul … What exact part I am to play I know not, but if full confidence and hourly consultation be any pledge, I am to be chief. I can plainly tell them that it is
aut Caesar aut nullus
[I’ll be Caesar or nothing], and if I get not what I have a right to, you will soon see me en route to England.”

Burnes, however, was not to be Caesar. Instead, Auckland decided that Macnaghten, older and more experienced in the workings of the administration, should be “Envoy and Minister on the part of the Government,” while Burnes would be chief political officer to Commander in Chief Sir Henry Fane and go in advance of the British expeditionary force to conciliate the rulers through whose territories it would pass. Auckland softened Burnes’s disappointment by hinting that once Shah Shuja was firmly on his throne and Macnaghten returned to India, Burnes would replace him. Burnes was also mollified by receiving a double promotion to the rank of lieutenant colonel and a knighthood. The ambitious thirty-three-year-old—now Sir Alexander Burnes—thought no more of going home.

On 9 September 1838 the Persians broke off their siege of Herat and departed, meaning that one of the major reasons for the campaign into Afghanistan—the Russian-backed Persian menace—had disappeared. This did nothing to disrupt British plans. Indeed, three weeks earlier John Colvin, Auckland’s assistant, had written that “
no result of the siege of Herat will delay the Shah’s [Shuja’s] expedition with our direct support,
” while a few days later Auckland himself stated that even if Herat held out, “
I shall not be the less convinced that the Government is acting wisely
.” The truth was that, though the outcome of the siege would influence the number of British troops to be sent into Afghanistan, Herat had become an irrelevance. The British were set on invasion.

The Persian withdrawal from Herat was the result of robust action by the British against both the Russians and the Persians. Foreign Secretary Lord Palmerston had protested formally to the Russian foreign secretary, Count von Nesselrode, about the incitement by Count Simonich and his agents of the Persians and others in the region. Not wishing at this time openly to confront Britain in Persia or elsewhere, von Nesselrode effectively disowned many of the actions of both Simonich and his agents, making flimsy excuses for others. But most important, he asserted that Russia would now use all its influence to restrain the Persian shah and would do everything possible to preserve the peace in Central Asia. As a result, Count Simonich was recalled to Russia. Vickovich, returning to St. Petersburg from Kabul and expecting to be congratulated, found himself dismissed as “
an adventurer … who, it was reported, had been lately engaged in some unauthorised intrigues at Kabul and Kandahar
.” According to the Russians, Vickovich retreated to his bedroom and shot himself in the head with his service pistol, although some British journalists of the time suggested that he had been murdered by the Russian government to prevent him from revealing the extent of Russian intriguing.

Following
John McNeill’s previous severing of his relations with the Persian shah over his attack on Herat in early June, Auckland had, at McNeill’s prompting, dispatched a battalion of soldiers and marines in two ships from Bombay to the Persian Gulf as a show of force. The troops had occupied the strategically situated island of Karrack (Kharg)—close to the Persian mainland near Bushire—whose Persian governor had capitulated immediately. By July grossly exaggerated reports of the scale of the British landing on Karrack were filtering through to the Persians encamped with their shah outside Herat. Profiting from them, McNeill dispatched Charles Stoddart back to the shah’s camp to inform him bluntly that the British would no longer tolerate any attempt by the Persians to take Herat or indeed to occupy any other part of Afghanistan and to warn him that his country risked full-scale invasion if he did not comply with British wishes. The shah took the point, observing to Stoddart, “The fact is, if I don’t leave Herat, there will be war, is not that it?” Stoddart replied, “all depends upon your Majesty’s answer.” Two days later, the shah dissembled to Stoddart that had he realized his advance on Herat might upset the British, “we certainly would not have come at all.” Thus by early September Stoddart had been able to report that “the Shah has mounted his horse ‘Ameerj’ and is gone.”