66

the fortified city of Ghuznee in a state in which failure would have been most dangerous, and success was almost necessary. Such situations are not unfrequent in war; and as the die falls, there is blame for the imprudence which risked and lost-or all praise for the courage which risked and won. "I know," said Napoleon, after hearing and answering the objections of some of his generals to his proposed scheme for the world-dividing campaign of 1813, "I know, after all, I shall be judged by the event." But the swift decision to try, and the resolution to win, which have never a small share in determining the event, determined that of the Ghuznee campaign of 1839. The battering train had been left at Candahar; the defences of the town were strong; but one gate, out of twenty-four, had not been walled up; and the scheme suggested by an engineer officer was instantly adopted by the general-to blow in this gate with powder, and carry the town by storm. All was done as it was arranged. On the 21st of July the garrison of Ghuznee first saw from their walls the colours of an English regiment; by five o'clock A. M. on the 23d, those colours were floating from the citadel.

Nothing can be more picturesque, nothing, as an exhibition of determined valour, apart from all considerations of the cause in which it was shown, more brilliant, than that assault, as told in the official despatches, and the accounts of those who were present. The stormy night, the violent gusts of wind preventing the garrison from hearing the approach of our columns; the enemy, seen through the chinks of the gate, quietly smoking, immediately before the explosion in which they were buried; the storming party, under Colonel Dennie, struggling through the half-ruined gateway, at once feeling and fighting their way forward through the covered passage in the dark, until their leader saw the blue sky and stars above the heads of their retiring opponents;-all these circumstances belong to the romance of war. According to the account of Colonel Dennie, confirmed from other quarters, an unavoidable mistake prevented the storming party from being immediately followed by the supporting column, of which the advance was delayed for some minutes; and Dennie and his small band forced their way into the town, and held their position there on the ramparts within, for some time, unsupported and alone.

"Alone I did it.' He was the Coriolanus of Ghuznee.

This exploit, in fact, decided the struggle, and Shah Soojah might now consider himself, by the grace of the English, king of Affghanistan. We find him "every inch a king," taking, and, which is much stranger, receiving in Lord Keane's despatch, ostentatious credit for sparing the life of the "rebel" governor of Ghuznee, Prince Hyder Khan, son of Dost Mahomed; "as if," says Dr. Kennedy, with just indignation, "the bare possi

bility of the contrary could have been contemplated." The day previous he had begun to exercise in a yet more decided manner the rights of sovereignty. Fifty or sixty Affghan prisoners, (prisoners of war) had been taken and brought before him. His Majesty, who appears to have been fond of using strong language, began to storm at the rebels. One of them, a chief, irritated by the language addressed to him by the Shah, rushed towards him, and wounded an attendant with his dagger. The king, in the rage, it would seem, of a coward, instantly ordered the execution of the whole; and, in a few minutes, these fifty or sixty prisoners-again we say, prisoners of war—were massacred to a man.

This butchery was said at the time to have been perpetrated in the presence of the British Envoy, and by authority of the British Commander-in-Chief. We are sincerely glad to find that this was not the case; * but that Shah Soojah was at once warned by the Commander-in-Chief that, while within the limits of a British camp, he must measure out his mercy and justice, even towards his rebellious subjects, in a different proportion. One can conceive the unmitigated disgust and scorn with which every English gentleman-every English man in the camp, must have heard of the performance of this, the first Bed of Justice, held by the imbecile old man whom they were supporting in leading-strings, over the bodies of his subjects, to a throne. This was the first occasion on which he acted for himself, and it appears fair to presume that it was in character.

While the army staid at Ghuznee, the Nawab Jubbar Khan, brother of Dost Mahomed, (mentioned in our former article,) appeared once more in the character of a peace-maker, asking for himself, nothing; for Dost Mahomed, his hereditary office of Grand Vizier, as the condition of submitting to the Shah. This, of course, could not be granted. When presented to the Shah, we find his deportment was not uncourteous, but his courtesy did not prevent him from addressing to the king a rather awkward question. "If you are to be king, of what use is the British army here? If the English are to rule over the country, of what use are you here ?" By the ancient laws of Menu, a severe penalty is attached to the offence of overcoming a Brahmin in argument; we do not know whether Affghan law attaches any penalty to bringing a king into an inextricable dilemma; but, if there is any such, we think it is pretty clear that the good Nawab had incurred it. He was offered maintenance in his property and honours, which he declined, and departed to share his brother's fortune; having first solemnly laid the responsibility of the blood which would be shed upon the King and the Envoy. At this, 66 one could not but smile.'

* History in the Bombay Monthly Times.

the fortified city of Ghuznee in a state in which failure would have been most dangerous, and success was almost necessary. Such situations are not unfrequent in war; and as the die falls, there is blame for the imprudence which risked and lost-or all praise for the courage which risked and won. "I know," said Napoleon, after hearing and answering the objections of some of his generals to his proposed scheme for the world-dividing campaign of 1813, "I know, after all, I shall be judged by the event." But the swift decision to try, and the resolution to win, which have never a small share in determining the event, determined that of the Ghuznee campaign of 1839. The battering train had been left at Candahar; the defences of the town were strong; but one gate, out of twenty-four, had not been walled up; and the scheme suggested by an engineer officer was instantly adopted by the general-to blow in this gate with powder, and carry the town by storm. All was done as it was arranged. On the 21st of July the garrison of Ghuznee first saw from their walls the colours of an English regiment; by five o'clock A. M. on the 23d, those colours were floating from the citadel.

Nothing can be more picturesque, nothing, as an exhibition of determined valour, apart from all considerations of the cause in which it was shown, more brilliant, than that assault, as told in the official despatches, and the accounts of those who were present. The stormy night, the violent gusts of wind preventing the garrison from hearing the approach of our columns; the enemy, seen through the chinks of the gate, quietly smoking, immediately before the explosion in which they were buried; the storming party, under Colonel Dennie, struggling through the half-ruined gateway, at once feeling and fighting their way forward through the covered passage in the dark, until their leader saw the blue sky and stars above the heads of their retiring opponents;-all these circumstances belong to the romance of war. According to the account of Colonel Dennie, confirmed from other quarters, an unavoidable mistake prevented the storming party from being immediately followed by the supporting column, of which the advance was delayed for some minutes; and Dennie and his small band forced their way into the town, and held their position there on the ramparts within, for some time, unsupported and alone.

"Alone I did it." He was the Coriolanus of Ghuznee.

This exploit, in fact, decided the struggle, and Shah Soojah might now consider himself, by the grace of the English, king of Affghanistan. We find him "every inch a king," taking, and, which is much stranger, receiving in Lord Keane's despatch, ostentatious credit for sparing the life of the "rebel" governor of Ghuznee, Prince Hyder Khan, son of Dost Mahomed; "as if," says Dr. Kennedy, with just indignation, "the bare possi

bility of the contrary could have been contemplated." The day previous he had begun to exercise in a yet more decided manner the rights of sovereignty. Fifty or sixty Affghan prisoners, (prisoners of war) had been taken and brought before him. His Majesty, who appears to have been fond of using strong language, began to storm at the rebels. One of them, a chief, irritated by the language addressed to him by the Shah, rushed towards him, and wounded an attendant with his dagger. The king, in the rage, it would seem, of a coward, instantly ordered the execution of the whole; and, in a few minutes, these fifty or sixty prisoners-again we say, prisoners of war-were massacred to a man.

This butchery was said at the time to have been perpetrated in the presence of the British Envoy, and by authority of the British Commander-in-Chief. We are sincerely glad to find that this was not the case; * but that Shah Soojah was at once warned by the Commander-in-Chief that, while within the limits of a British camp, he must measure out his mercy and justice, even towards his rebellious subjects, in a different proportion. One can conceive the unmitigated disgust and scorn with which every English gentleman-every English man in the camp, must have heard of the performance of this, the first Bed of Justice, held by the imbecile old man whom they were supporting in leading-strings, over the bodies of his subjects, to a throne. This was the first occasion on which he acted for himself, and it appears fair to presume that it was in character.

While the army staid at Ghuznee, the Nawab Jubbar Khan, brother of Dost Mahomed, (mentioned in our former article,) appeared once more in the character of a peace-maker, asking for himself, nothing; for Dost Mahomed, his hereditary office of Grand Vizier, as the condition of submitting to the Shah. This, of course, could not be granted. When presented to the Shah, we find his deportment was not uncourteous, but his courtesy did not prevent him from addressing to the king a rather awkward question. "If you are to be king, of what use is the British army here? If the English are to rule over the country, of what use are you here?" By the ancient laws of Menu, a severe penalty is attached to the offence of overcoming a Brahmin in argument; we do not know whether Affghan law attaches any penalty to bringing a king into an inextricable dilemma; but, if there is any such, we think it is pretty clear that the good Nawab had incurred it. He was offered maintenance in his property and honours, which he declined, and departed to share his brother's fortune; having first solemnly laid the responsibility of the blood which would be shed upon the King and the Envoy. At this, "one could not but smile."

* History in the Bombay Monthly Times.

(Havelock.) One smiles at the time, at many things which, at the distance of three years, have a very unsmiling aspect. We will answer for it that, if Captain Havelock now recalls this conversation, the recollection does not make him smile.

A week after the capture of Ghuznee, the army advanced on Cabool, carrying with it the prestige and terror of victory. Dost Mahomed, who had shortly before 13,000 men around him, was deserted, and forced to fly with 600 horsemen to the mountains; and Shah Soojah entered Cabool, like Candahar, unopposed, and was received by the people in a manner which, we think, did them honour, without insolence, without exultation; but with cold and grave respect.

Dost Mahomed was pursued by some sepoys and British officers under Captain Outram, and a body of Affghans under Hadji Khan of Kakur: the traitor who, having lately betrayed the Barukzye cause at Candahar, was expected to show the zeal of a convertite. This man, whose general course through life seems to have been that of a thorough scoundrel, may yet probably have felt some reluctance to be the instrument of putting his old master into the hands of his enemies. He took every excuse for hanging back; and his efforts in this line were more than seconded by his followers. To Captain Outram's forward energy they opposed an unconquerable vis inertiæ; and their leader repeatedly assured him that not one of them would strike against Dost Mahomed, should they overtake him. Once Captain Outram overheard the chiefs remonstrating with the Hadji on his conduct,-" Why should he, who had never received injury from Dost Mahomed, aid in putting him into the hands of the Feringees?" To which, as might be expected, the Hadji had nothing to say. On another occasion we find him, in answer to Captain Outram's reproaches of his backwardness, protesting that he had incurred the hatred of the whole nation by his attachment to the English. "I am, next to the king, the most unpopular man in the country." Next to the king, whose universal popularity had been so incontestably proved to Lord Auckland!

The result of the pursuit was such as might have been expected. After crossing the Hindoo Koosh at 15,000 feet above the sea,-after starving for days on handfuls of meal,-after coming to a unanimous and, we doubt not, very just conclusion, that, in case anything went wrong, all the Affghans on both sides would at once turn against them,--and passing, in full conclave of thirteen English officers, a resolution which recalls to us the wars of Cortez with the Mexicans, to direct their united attacks, should they come into conflict with the enemy, upon Dost Mahomed singly, whose fall would probably disperse his followers,-Captain Outram and his companions found themselves obliged to retrace their steps to Cabool; where, of course,