the product of the war-indemnity figured in the revenues under the title of "China money." The long-established English dominion in India was to be the theatre of events. more serious, painful, and humiliating to the country, and, for many years, fruitful in misfortunes. For the first time the Afghan name made itself heard in Europe, where it was destined to acquire a cruel and lasting renown.

The kingdom of Cabul, or Afghanistan, forms the link between western and eastern India. It is the great highway from Persia to India, and among its population are mingled many nationalities, Hindoos, Arabs, and even Armenians, the Afghans being, however, the dominant race. They are a brave and haughty people, devout followers of Mohammed, and for ages governed by bold and able princes. In 1837, when the first difficulties arose between the Governor of India, Lord Auckland, and the Afghan princes, the throne of Afghanistan was occupied by Dost Mohammed, belonging to the powerful tribe of the Barukzyes, who had driven out of the kingdom the descendants of Ahmad-Shah, the great founder of the Afghan Empire. These latter princes retained nothing but Herat, and all the rest of Afghanistan was divided among Dost Mohammed and his brothers, who were favorably disposed towards England, and had already made overtures towards her.

Anxiety in respect to the increase of Russian influence had always existed at the court of the English Governor of India, and it was particularly serious at this period. Dost Mohammed, while earnestly seeking the favor and protection of England, allowed it to be understood that if unsuccessful in this attempt, he should seek another alliance. Captain Barnes, a bold and experienced traveller, was employed to sound the intentions and judge of the sincerity of the Afghan prince, and the information he sent to Lord Auckland was

Notwithstanding

distinctly favorable to Dost Mohammed. this, Lord Auckland seems to have had no confidence in Dost Mohammed; it appeared to him that he should better secure English preponderance in Afghanistan by placing upon the throne a prince who should owe everything to England: a descendant of the exiled rulers of the country was living in retirement in India, and Lord Auckland resolved to restore this individual to the throne of his ancestors. On the 12th of October, 1838, the English governor published a manifesto, announcing the war and declaring his reasons. The presence

of a Russian agent at the court of Dost Mohammed, and the fear of a Russian invasion of India across Persia and Afghanistan, were evidently among the causes of Lord Auckland's decision. A general anxiety prevailed throughout English India, and the governor was in a degree forced by public opinion when, at the beginning of the year 1838, he entered upon the disastrous Afghan war.

The campaign opened brilliantly. Ghuznee and Jellalabad were taken by assault, Dost Mohammed abandoned his capital, and the new prince, Shah Shooja, was installed in Cabul. The popularity, however, of which Lord Auckland had spoken so confidently in his proclamation, was entirely wanting to the new sovereign. His capital received him in gloomy silence, and only the acclamations of the English soldiers greeted his passage through the streets.

This condition of public feeling soon manifested itself openly. Dost Mohammed himself had made more than one effort to recover his lost throne; he had distinguished himself by his personal bravery, but finally he seemed to have become convinced that it was useless to struggle against the power of England, and on the evening after a battle, which had at least been undecided, and might have been claimed by him as a victory, he made his way to the English headquarters and surrendered

his sword to Sir W. H. Macnaghten, the British envoy and minister at the court of Cabul. Thereupon he was sent to India, and his name replaced that of Shah Shooja upon the list of Great Britain's pensioners. But in the meantime the population of Cabul were becoming more and more dissatisfied with the new ruler, who, they averred, had sold the country to strangers. An insurrection was imminent; Sir W. H. Macnaghten was warned, but he paid no heed to the information. On the 2d of November, 1841, the populace broke out into insurrection; Captain, now Sir Alexander Barnes, who had been deputed to act with Sir W. H. Macnaghten, was besieged in his own house, but refused to believe himself in danger, and sought to appease the frenzy of the mob by assuring them that he had always been their friend. His conduct, however, had laid him open to the suspicion of treachery. He had been the friend of Dost Mohammed, and he was now the confidential adviser of Shah Shooja. What were his real sentiments is perhaps doubtful, since it has been well established that the despatches he sent home to the British government were tampered with before they were presented to the House of Commons. But the infuriated crowd regarded him as their enemy; they forced the garden gate, and rushed into the house, uttering fierce threats against Sir Alexander and his brother. A Mussulman from Kashmyr offered to conduct the two brothers in safety to the forts, if they would trust themselves to him; but no sooner had they quitted the house than the traitor cried out to the mob, "Here they are!" and the two were instantly murdered.

The English troops were quartered outside of the city, a few of them occupying the fortress. Every day they were threatened and insulted, and their position grew more and more dangerous. At this time a son of Dost Mohammed, Akbar Khan, a bold, intelligent, and unscrupulous young man, put

himself at the head of the insurrection. Sir W. H. Macnaghten was intending to fall back in the direction of India, in the hope of meeting the reinforcements believed to be on the way towards Cabul. He opened negotiations with the Afghan chiefs, who began by demanding unconditional surrender, a demand which was, of course, indignantly refused. Meantime dissensions existed among the English officers; General Elphinstone, the commander-in-chief, was ill and enfeebled; the second in command was a man of much greater ability, but through vanity and ill-humor unable to do his country good service. The winter had now set in with great severity, and snow fell heavily. On the 23d of December, Akbar Khan proposed a secret conference to the English envoy. The latter accepted it, and, accompanied by three officers, made his appearance at the place designated, where Akbar Khan, accompanied by a crowd of Afghans, met him. But a few words had been exchanged when one of the English officers was seized by an Afghan who stood behind him, and Akbar Khan, fell upon Macnaghten; he was thrown down; and Akbar Khan drawing a pistol, one of a pair Macnaghten had lately presented to him, shot the envoy. With him one of the English officers was also killed, and the others were carried off prisoners. "The look of wondering horror that sat upon Macnaghten's upturned face," says Kaye, in his "History of the Afghan War," "will not be forgotten by those who saw it, to their dying day Thus perished as brave a gentleman as ever in the midst of fiery trial struggled manfully to rescue from disgrace the reputation of a great country."

The surprise of the English was such, and their situation so critical, that they dared not at once avenge this odious murder. Reinforcements were on the way, it was said; but the officers resolved to capitulate. They accepted conditions the most humiliating: the abandonment of nearly all their artil

lery, the relinquishment of all the treasure, augmented by a considerable personal ransom, and the evacuation of Jellalabad by General Sale. Six English officers were left as hostages in the hands of Akbar Khan.

The caravan set out on the 6th of January, 1842. It consisted of four thousand five hundred soldiers, most of them Asiatics, and twelve thousand English or Indian camp-followers. Some officers' wives and a number of children made part of this sad band. The Afghans had at first proposed to retain the women as hostages, but the officers, who had accepted so many humiliations, refused this in set terms. Fate, however, was soon to triumph over even this last resistance.

Akbar Khan had required fresh hostages, which had been given him; he now followed the march of this disorderly and despairing band, who were pressing on unaware into new dangers. The tribe of the Ghilzyes occupied the pass of Koord Cabul, a gorge five miles in length, between precipitous cliffs of great height, and traversed by a mountain torrent. From the rocky sides of the pass a shower of balls rained down upon the human mass struggling in this defile. Akbar Khan, it is said, strove to put an end to this fire, but he was utterly powerless to do it; and when the English column emerged from the pass, three thousand dead bodies lay upon the ground. The women shared in the common fate; many of them were in camel-panniers, a few among them Lady Sale - on horseback. The latter was severely wounded, and her son-in-law was killed. The Afghan chief from time to time appeared in the midst of the confusion. Finally he announced, says Lady Sale, "that he had a proposal to make, but that he did not like to do so, lest his motives might be misconstrued; but that, as it concerned us more than himself, he would mention it; and that it was that all the married men with their families should come over and put themselves under his protection,