Sir Bartle
Frere on
Afghanistan

would consult the Amir's convenience and make
allowance for his many difficulties with his own
people and fanatical advisers, as well as with foreign
influence, which will certainly be exerted to prevent
any greater intimacy in his relations with us. If, on
the other hand, the Amir showed obvious signs of
disinclination to improve his relations, I would take
it as clear proof that hostile influences had worked
more effectually than we now suppose, that it was
useless to attempt to coax or cajole him into a better
frame of mind, that we must look for alliance and
influence elsewhere than at Kabul, and must seek
them in Khelat, at Kandahar, at Herat, and in
Persia, and I would lose no time in looking out for
them.
It is clear from the records that, up to
a very late period, the anxiety of the late Amir and
his son to be on better terms, and more closely allied
to us and our fortunes in India against all comers
from the north and west, was very marked.
It is,
however, unfortunately equally true that there has of
late been a marked change in the disposition of the
reigning Amir in this respect. What is the extent
and what the cause of the change is not clear.
Whether the Amir has become convinced that he has
more to hope for or fear from the Russians than from
us; whether he believes we are in secret league with
the Russians to divide his kingdom, a common belief
in the bazaars of India since the marriage of the
Duke of Edinburgh; whether he is angry at our
continued refusal to pledge ourselves to support his
chosen heir; whether he is sulky at the smallness or
alarmed at the magnitude of our late gifts, or really
fears the fanaticism of his own subjects; all these
are guesses with more or less to support them, but
they are only guesses on a point regarding which

Frere on

certainty is attainable and of the highest importance. Sir Bartle The Envoy who is usually sent by the Amir to Afghanistan communicate with the Commissioner at Peshawur made use of a significant proverb which indicated his view of the cause. It was to the effect that "the cat and dog only cease spitting and snarling when they hear the wolf at the door." But as both know that the wolf is there this does not account for the cat still refusing to be friends with the dog, unless she thinks herself likely to be safer as the ally of the wolf. But before seeking from the Amir any direct explanation of his changed attitude towards us, I would instruct the Envoy to lay before the Amir a perfectly frank and full explanation of the English view of the present situation. It is worse than useless to tell him, as we have so often told him before, that the Russians are our good friends and have no designs beyond the protection of their own frontier and the extension of civilisation and commerce; that we are not in the least disturbed by their advances and are prepared to co-operate with them in promoting an era of peace and goodwill. The Amir knows that all this is humbug, and that we know it to be so; that the Russians are our friends as long as we leave them to pursue their schemes of conquest unchallenged and no longer; that they are essentially a conquering and aggressive nation, and will conquer in our direction unless they are convinced that we shall actively oppose them; that we and our Indian subjects are grievously disturbed by their advances, that we wish them no nearer but have hitherto been afraid to say so openly, or in any manner that would pledge us to observe them openly.'

There is one paragraph in this paper which calls for comment. If,' it says, 'the Amir showed signs

Arrival at
Bombay

of disinclination to improve his relations, I would take it as clear proof that hostile influences had worked more effectually than we now suppose; that it was useless to attempt to coax or cajole him into a better frame of mind; that we must look for alliance and influence elsewhere than at Kabul, and must seek them in Khelat, at Kandahar, at Herat, and in Persia, and I would lose no time in looking out for them.'

The biographer of this eminent Indian statesman has taken upon himself to say that, 'had Frere gone to India as Viceroy in 1876' he would in all human probability have converted Sher Ali to the English alliance, and thus prevented war. It is, on the contrary, clear from the words quoted above, that had Sir Bartle Frere been able to carry out these views in 1876, he would ‘in all human probability' have brought about the war of 1878 much earlier. To have taken steps leading towards the disintegration of Afghanistan, by seeking alliances in those parts of the Amir's kingdom known to be most disaffected, and with neighbouring States whose power might be turned against him, before the Russians had made the false move of sending a mission to Kabul, and while they still seemed to be on the eve of war with England, could hardly have failed to throw the Amir into their arms. And they might then have assisted him more effectively than afterwards, when, having accomplished his alienation from the British Government, they left him in the lurch.

On April 7 the Orontes reached Bombay. The most picturesque town I have ever seen, especially as regards its population,' Lord Lytton wrote. He proceeded in easy stages towards Calcutta. At Allahabad he had an interview with Sir John Strachey, then Lieutenant-Governor of the North

West Provinces. Their understanding and mutual appreciation of each other dates from that interview, when Lord Lytton found that they agreed upon every financial question, and subsequently he was able to persuade Sir John Strachey to consent to give up his Governorship and accept the post of Financial Minister on the Indian Council at the retirement of the then Minister, Sir William Muir.

Lady Lytton and her children left the Viceroy at Allahabad and went straight to Simla on account of the heat.

Lord Lytton reached Calcutta on April 12, and was there received at Government House by Lord Northbrook. The out-going Viceroy led his successor into the Council Chamber where the Members of Council assembled. The officiating Home Secretary read the Royal Warrant of appointment and Lord Lytton then made a short speech.

6

'It was not without considerable hesitation,' he writes to Lord Salisbury, that I decided at the last moment on breaking the customary rule of silence on such occasions by at once addressing to the Council in presence of the public a short speech.

From day to day and hour to hour I found as I approached Calcutta that the spirit of anticipative antagonism to the new Viceroy was so strong on the part of the Council here that any appearance of scolding or lecturing them at starting would have been fatal to our future relations. The choice, therefore, lay between saying nothing, or saying something studiously sedative to the quills of these fretful porcupines; and on reaching Allahabad I had fully made up my mind to say nothing. My intention was changed by Strachey.'

Of the effect made on the audience by the speech

E

To Lady

Lytton,

Colonel Colley wrote to Lady Lytton. I confess I had hoped he would not speak, for it is one of the occasions when it is so difficult to avoid platitudes on one side or saying too much on the other, and I have hardly ever before heard that kind of address without wishing half of it unsaid. But now I am very glad he did speak and that I was there to hear him, and only wish you had been too. I had not realised either the power or the modulation of his voice before, nor, though I was prepared for beautiful language, was I quite prepared for such perfect and easy command. But it was the simple earnestness which carried home more than anything else, and there was a sort of holding of the breath in the room at some parts.

'I cannot but think that that speech will help him greatly in his start; that the general impression was much the same as mine I gather from the remarks I heard around me. A stranger standing near me I heard say: "That was a treat indeed worth coming to hear.""

The intercourse between Lord Lytton and Lord Northbrook was of the friendliest character.

'Lord Northbrook has been to me most kind, April 15, 1876 frank, and friendly,' writes Lord Lytton,' and we parted from each other not altogether without emotion.'

The new Viceroy was now left to meet his Council alone. He was not well, the heat affected him, and he suffered from constant headache and nausea. He confided to his wife that he felt as if he were living under the weight of an increasing nightmare, and oppressed by a sense of forlornness, isolation, and discouragement.

Nothing, however, of this mood appeared in his relations with those who now surrounded him.