Volume 81 — THE WAR IN ASIA.

The Russian Empire has two gates, through which her armies may march on their mission of territorial aggrandisement. These are not on her western front. Cossack absolutism, the sway of Muscovite principles, may yet spread to the Atlantic; but, territorially, Russia will never extend her rule westwards in Europe beyond the limits of the Slavonian race. The case is different along her southern frontier. Occupying the vast territories constituting that officina gentium from whence issued the invading hordes which overthrew in succession all the old governments of the civilised world—Hindoo, Persian, Roman, Saracenic, Byzantine—the Russian Empire still seeks expansion in the same direction. Half imbedded in its southern frontier lies the Black Sea, forming a barrier to landward progress nearly 800 miles long, and compelling the downward pressure of the colossal empire to divide into an eastern and western stream. Once the Black Sea is fairly enclasped by the dominions of the Czar, and the Bosphorus closed against hostile fleets, this inland sea will be no longer an obstacle, but a facility, to the southern advance of the Muscovite legions: but at present it is as we say,—an impassable expanse which must be turned by marching round its flanks. The regions to the east and west of this sea are the two Gates of Russia, through which the ambition of the Czars has sought and will continue to seek expansion. The one gate opens into Europe, the other into Asia. The former at present is shut—the latter stands open.

When at war with a restless and ambitious power—with a young and growing state whose rulers and people still prefer territorial extension to commercial development, it is wise, when closing one’s own frontier against attack, to leave open some other channel into which the energies of the foe may be directed. This is what the Continental Governments did at the close of the late war. The French Emperor, having served his own immediate purpose in the war, and fearing to face the eventualities which a prosecution of the contest might have produced, resolved abruptly to close it after the fall of Sebastopol. With this end in view, no further blow was allowed to be struck in the Crimea; and, at the same time, not a regiment was allowed to be sent to relieve Kars, or to support Omar Pasha in his important invasion of Georgia. Russia was proud, and would rather push the war to extremities than consent to humiliating terms of peace. The measures of the French Government saved her from such humiliation. The fall of Sebastopol was made a barren victory in the Crimea, and was allowed to be balanced in some measure by the fall of Kars in Armenia; and these facts, duly improved at the Congress of Peace, resulted in that Treaty of Paris which the Moniteur eulogised as “humiliating to none.” The fall of Kars, and the withholding of support from Omar Pasha’s invasion of Georgia, enabled the Continental Powers, while shutting the door against Russia in Europe, to leave wider open than ever her gate into Asia. The representatives of England, we hope, struggled against this decision, but they struggled vainly: (when it comes to a question of votes, the interests of the Continental Powers must always override those of insulated Britain).^[1] And now we already begin to perceive the consequence. Russian prestige is greater than ever throughout western Asia. The capture of Kars enabled General Mouravieff for ten months to keep possession of that fortress and the surrounding region,—to distribute far and wide hand-bills announcing the triumph of the Czar, and representing it, by a colourable lie, as a victory over the arms of England. The wavering allegiance of the Kurdish tribes of Armenia has been half-won to the Czar. Persia has gone wholly over to the same side. A renewed onset is being made to complete the subjugation of the Caucasus, and render the isthmus between the Euxine and Caspian a broad highway for Russian advance. From Soujouk-kale to Erivan, from Erivan to the mouth of the Araxes, and thence northwards along the shores and upon the islands of the Caspian, an unusual mustering of troops and din of warlike preparation is going on. The eastern Gate of Russia already creaks on its hinges. Perhaps while we write, the Muscovite battalions are once more entering the thrice-despoiled territories of Persia,—this time all the more dangerously for her, and ominously for us, that they enter not as enemies but in the guise of friends.

It is long since Russia began to foray southwards by her eastern Gate. And it is important to note this, for it is only by the light of the past that we shall properly comprehend the true character of Russian aggression in this quarter. It is needless to rail at such aggression, for it is alike natural and inevitable. Russia lies between Europe and Asia like a vast lake, whose waters are slowly but steadily increasing, and which, hemmed in by steep banks on its western side, must inevitably overflow into the vast unbulwarked regions of Central Asia. As Russian wealth, population, and resources increase, the Muscovite tide will swell out more and more into the territories of Turkistan, and encroach more and more upon the native sovereignty of Persia. The tide will never recede,—for it is but the overflowings of the great fountains of Slavonian life, which promise, for ages to come, to continue pouring forth their populating streams into the half-vacant basins of Asia. Russian domination over the tribes of the Steppes and the organised communities of Persia and Anatolia is a mere question of time, which may be as surely predicted as that the Russian population will one day be double and treble what it is now. That population will for centuries have room to spread eastward across the Asiatic continent; but it will take that course reluctantly, and will prefer to foray southwards, until it reach a limit where other portions of the European race have become too firmly consolidated to be driven from their ground.

Commerce and ambition alike impel Russia to go forth conquering through her eastern gates. A century and a half ago the Czar Peter perceived this, and laid down the outlines of a vast plan of Asiatic conquest for the guidance of his imperial successors. By an error common to minds of high speculative and imaginative power—to whom, seeing clearly the future, distant events often appear too near and their realisation too easy—Peter himself does not seem to have adequately appreciated the obstacles to his projects, and by a bold dash at Khiva in 1717, attempted to win a vantage-ground which was not destined to be gained by Russia until the present day. The armed mission which he sent to that Khanate, to establish relations with the natives and to seize a gold mine, easily reached their destination; but being outwitted by the Khivans, they were induced to separate into detached parties, and were then cut to pieces. Six years afterwards witnessed the real commencement of his schemes of aggression. It was in 1723–25, when the power of Persia was prostrated by the revolt of the Affghans and the attacks of the Turks, that Russia first struck her fangs into her prey; and during the dismemberment of Persia which then occurred, the Russian forces seized the territories of the Shah lying between the Caspian and the Black Seas. The martial genius of Nadir Shah temporarily checked the progress of Muscovite ambition, and in 1735 compelled the Empress Anne to resign the captured provinces before they had been Russianised. But in due time the advances of Russia were resumed in a more subtle form; and in 1774 the Empress Catherine commenced a series of intrigues with the states lying to the south of the Caucasus, with a view to induce them to throw off their allegiance to Persia, and to place themselves under the protectorate of Russia. All the usual Muscovite seductions and threats were had recourse to: missions and subsidies were first employed, then the erection of fortresses, and ultimately the introduction of troops; and so successful were those arts that, in 1773, Mingrelia, Imeritia, and Georgia accepted the Russian protectorate. For twelve years Persia submitted to this unjust domination; and when at length, in 1795, Aga Mahomed Khan attempted to recover the Trans-Caucasian provinces, the Russians were victorious and pushed their way still farther along the shores of the Caspian. Thus, ere the death of Catherine, Russia was paramount all over the isthmus between the Caspian and Black Seas, and had secured for herself the long-coveted gate through which she was to push southwards. The advanced posts of Persia and Turkey had been first sapped and then carried, and now Russia was brought in contact with the main body of those empires. The ten years’ war with Persia, which terminated in 1814 by the peace of Gulistan, accomplished apparently little,—Russia having then fighting enough in Europe; but during its continuance Muscovite power was consolidated on the isthmus (the Circassians alone remaining unsubdued), and Persia surrendered the right of having ships of war on the Caspian, which handed over that sea to the exclusive domination of Russia. Twelve years more, and again there was war. The treaty which closed the former war became the occasion for commencing a new one, furnishing fresh triumphs to Russia; and at the close of hostilities in 1828, by the treaty of Turkomanchai, the provinces of Erivan (with the strong fortress of that name) and Nakchivan were ceded to the Czar,—thus extending the Muscovite frontier to the banks of the Araxes; while possession was kept of the province of Talish beyond that river, and a heavy indemnity (!) was exacted for the expenses of the war. To sum up,—in the period between 1774 and 1828, Russia advanced her frontier a thousand miles into Asia; so that the Russian regiment stationed at her farthest frontier-post, on the western shore of the Caspian, has as great a distance to march back to Moscow as onward to Attock on the Indus, and is actually farther from St Petersburg than from Lahore, the capital of the Punjaub.

Any one who has seen an empty bottle thrown into a river, will have perceived that at first the vessel shows great repugnance to be immersed by the fluid, and ever strives to leap towards, and keep itself buoyant by, the air; but that at last there comes a moment when, the invading water having fairly overbalanced the rival element, all struggle ceases, and the vessel, losing all motive power of its own, drifts along helplessly as if it were actually part of the engulfing stream. It was in 1828 that this turning-point came to Persia. Prior to that time British influence had been paramount at the Court of Teheran. Of the state of matters before Paskewitch’s conquests, we read: “Russia has always viewed with undisguised jealousy the ascendancy of English influence in the councils of Persia. She has not hesitated, at different times, to make it matter of formal complaint even that Persian troops are commanded by English officers, clothed in English uniforms, and supplied with English arms. In short, the whole machinery of the Persian government is put in motion immediately or remotely by English agents and by English influence.” How Russia has turned the tables upon us since this was written twenty-seven years ago! Moral as well as material causes, we are sorry to say, contributed to produce this result. It was inevitable that the influence of Russia, with her contiguous frontier and great military power, should one day predominate over that of Britain in Central Asia; but it is to be regretted that we ourselves should have furnished discreditable proofs of our inferiority. By the treaty of Gulistan in 1814, England pledged herself that Russia should fulfil the engagement to restore Talish; but Russia evaded doing so, and, either from weakness or bad faith, we took no steps to compel fulfilment of the promise. Again, at the breaking-out of the war in 1826, England was bound by treaty to assist Persia against any European power with an army from India, or to pay an annual subsidy of £100,000; yet England broke her pledge, on the plea that Persia had provoked the war, although a more transparent case of wolf and lamb never existed. Well might Mr Kaye remark of this proceeding, that “the backwardness of England was of dubious honesty, as it doubtless was of dubious expediency.” And Sir Harford Jones did not much exaggerate the consequences, when he said, that by the treaty of 1828 “Persia was delivered, bound hand and foot, to the Court of St Petersburg.”

The turning-point being passed, then began those demonstrations and expeditions against Herat, which have since, not without reason, occasioned us so much disquietude. To annex Herat is the most natural object of Persian ambition, and it is at the same time one which perfectly coincides with the views of the Russian government. Geographically as well as politically, Herat belongs to Affghanistan, of which it is the door. So far from being an appanage of the Shahs, it was, under the successors of Timour, the seat of a great empire; and in the early part of last century, the Affghans even extended their rule by conquest over Persia. Nadir Shah, however, when he set free his country, retaliated by capturing Herat, and planting there a Persian colony; and though the city quickly returned into the possession of its natural owners, the Affghan power no sooner began to decline than the Persian monarchs cast covetous eyes upon this important frontier city. So formidable was the Affghan power even at the commencement of the present century, that the principal object of the treaties between our Indian government and Persia was, that each might help the other if attacked by the dreaded mountaineers; but the civil wars which thereafter broke into fragments the Affghan empire, and arrayed clan against clan, and chief against chief, not only destroyed its aggressive power, but exposed the country to the attack of foreign arms and influence. So matters stood when the treaty of Turkomanchai first demonstrated to the Court of Teheran that Russia was more potent than England in Central Asia, and that it was better policy to propitiate the former than the latter. Accordingly, in 1832, Persia commenced preparations to attack Herat, and a Russian officer of engineers was ready to accompany the expedition. An early exertion of British influence succeeded in preventing the enterprise being carried out; but just four years afterwards, in 1836, the project was revived,—the Russian ambassador at the same time urging the Shah to make haste, lest Britain should again interpose. Sir Henry Ellis, who was then our envoy at the Persian court, lost no time in apprising his government of what was in preparation, and of urging them to take vigorous measures to frustrate the project. His own remonstrances with the Persian government were vain; a quarrel was even picked with him à l’Orientale—a horseman under his protection being seized by the Persian Government, just as the wife of Mirza Hashem was eighteen months ago; and, ultimately, like Mr Murray, he felt compelled to strike his flag, and withdraw from Teheran. Meanwhile the Shah had set out on his famous expedition against Herat, with the Russian ambassador Simonich in his train; while Captain Vicovich, a secret agent of the Russian government, armed with a holograph letter from the Czar, was busily endeavouring to procure the support of the Affghan chiefs. Fortunately, Eldred Pottinger, a young lieutenant of the Bombay artillery, was then in Herat, and conducted the defence of the place with a courage and ability which have immortalised his name. So interested was Russia in this attack on Herat, that she remitted £25,000 of the debt contracted by Persia in 1828, in order that it might be expended in fitting out the expedition, and engaged to remit the remainder if the expedition proved successful. The Russian Embassy accompanied the expedition, a body of Russian troops (styled “deserters”) aided in the siege, and the assaults were led by Russian officers. But all was in vain. From the first investment in November 1836 to the final raising of the siege in September 1837, three desperate assaults were made upon the town, and were repulsed by the garrison, led by the heroic Pottinger,—the assailants on one of those occasions losing 1700 men. These bloody repulses, combined with the appearance of a British force in the Persian Gulf, the seizure of the island of Karrak, and a threat of active hostilities on our part, at length led the Shah and his counsellors to abandon the enterprise. Simultaneously with these events in Asia, the dispute arising from the capture of the “Vixen” in the Black Sea showed the irritation subsisting between the British and Russian Governments. And it is instructive to note that all the time that the Russian ambassador was instigating the Shah to attack Herat, and that Russian money, officers, and troops, were assisting him in the enterprise, Count Nesselrode professed to agree with the British Government as to the viciousness of the course pursued by the Persian monarch, and affirmed that the conduct of the Russian ambassador and agents was in opposition to his instructions! A good illustration of the truth of Karamsin’s remark, that it is a maxim of the Russian government to repudiate the conduct of its officers until their project is accomplished,—thus preventing opposition until it is too late for other governments to interfere.

Although this attempt upon Herat was foiled, it naturally occasioned our Indian Government much disquiet; and it was with a view to strengthen our influence in that important region that the ill-fated invasion of Affghanistan was undertaken. Both in a political and military point of view, the expedition was characterised by the grossest blunders; and the disastrous retreat from Cabool only served to augment the ascendancy of Russia at the Court of Teheran. Indeed, to so low an ebb had all other foreign influence sunk at that court, that M. Ferrier records that, during his residence in Persia, both British and French subjects were in the practice of employing the good offices of the Russian ambassador, as they knew that their own envoys were powerless at court. When war broke out between Russia and the Allies in Europe, and troops from India were being brought to the battle-fields of the Crimea, it was only natural that Russia should seek to convert her ascendancy at the Persian Court into a means of disquieting us on the side of India. Etiquette is everything in the East, and when Asiatic governments become hostile, they almost always choose to testify their feelings by putting a slight on the representative of the Power whom they mean to defy. In this way the “Mrs Hashem affair” was not so unimportant as it appears to European eyes; and from the animus displayed on this and previous occasions by the Persian Government, it is clear that had Mr Murray continued at his post, he would only have been subjected to fresh demands and contumely. It was the last of a series of insults directed against the British Government; and to those who assume it as the cause of the present war, it is sufficient to say that not even the Persian Government regards it in that light, or alleges it as a pretext for its attack upon Affghanistan. The fall of Kars, in fact, threw Persia completely into the arms of Russia; and the old design of attacking Herat and extending Persian influence over Affghanistan was eagerly revived. It is alleged that, in prospect of the war in Europe continuing, an arrangement had been made by which a Russian army was to land at Astrabad, and support the Shah in his advance towards our Indian frontier. There is much probability in the statement; and it is certain that Persian vessels on the Caspian assisted the Russians in conveying warlike stores for the use of Mouravieff’s army,—thus breaking the neutrality which the Shah professed so greatly to respect. But, leaving the conjectured connivance between Persia and Russia during the war to be revealed at a future time, let us look simply at the overt acts of the former Power, and endeavour to set forth what actually occurred. With this view we must give our readers a glimpse into Affghan politics and the state of matters at Herat.

At the commencement of the present century, Affghanistan and Cashmere, with parts of Khorassan and Scinde, were united under the rule of Zeeman Shah, grandson of that Ahmed Shah who with his Affghans broke the power of the Mahrattas at the terrible battle of Paniput in 1761. But the days of the Dooraunee Empire were numbered, and an era of suicidal convulsions was about to commence. Zeeman was deposed, and his brother Mahmoud succeeded. The royal family belonged to the Suddozee tribe, whose rivals in the state were the great clan of the Barukzees, headed by Futteh Khan and his twenty brothers, one of the youngest of whom was Dost Mahomed. Futteh Khan was prime-minister, and proved a maire du palais to the roi fainéant. In the struggles that ensued, Futteh Khan was barbarously murdered by the Suddozees; but finally the Barukzee brothers triumphed, and by 1823 had partitioned the country among themselves,—Dost Mahomed, whose abilities had raised him to the foremost place among his brethren, obtaining Cabool as his share. One corner alone of their old empire remained to the fallen Suddozee race—namely, the principality of Herat, to which place the deposed Mahmoud retired with his son, Prince Kamram. The prince in due course succeeded his father, and was ruling Herat, with one Yar Mahomed for his vizier, when the Persians attacked the place in 1837. On Kamram’s death, the sceptre departed from the Suddozees, and fell peaceably into the hands of the old vizier, Yar Mahomed, who had long been the virtual ruler; and who at his decease, a few years ago, transmitted his power to his son, Mahomed Said—a weak and dissolute wretch, willing to barter the independence of Herat for Persian support; but whose myrmidons, seeing him immersed in sensuality, took advantage of his apathy so to tyrannise over the community that all classes wished for a revolution. Persia resolved that the revolution should come from her side; and the Persian envoy at Herat became prime director of the enterprise. It was his custom to take a ride of twenty or thirty miles every afternoon, returning to the city about ten at night, the gate being regularly opened to him. On these occasions he was escorted by about a hundred horsemen, and generally rode towards Gorian, on the road to Meshed, the Persian capital of Khorassan. Now, there was stationed between Gorian and Meshed, for the purpose of keeping in check the wild Turkomans, a certain Prince Yusoof, nephew to the departed Shah Kamram, and therefore well fitted to be the instrument for effecting a revolution in Herat. With this prince and Esa Khan, a chief of Herat, the Persian envoy arranged the plans for a surprise; and when all was ready, he was joined on his ride one afternoon by Prince Yusoof and a body of Persian cavalry. The first quarter of the night was passed when they arrived at the gates of Herat; and on admission being given to the envoy as usual, his escort sabred the guard, and the Prince with his cavalry rushed in, took possession of the city, and advanced against the Arg citadel. The besotted ruler, in his cups, shot the servant who first reported to him that the enemy was in the city, but at length, arousing himself, ordered a charge when it was too late. The result was that he and all his relatives were captured and put to death; and Prince Yusoof, a member of the royal Suddozee race, mounted the throne of Herat. His first act was to thank the Shah for his success, and to beg him to continue his protection and freely command his services;—to which the Shah replied by assuring him of aid against his present or future enemies, and informing him that all the commanders of the Persian forces in Khorassan had been strictly enjoined to watch over his welfare, and punish the disturbers of his dominion.^[2]

It may easily be believed that Dost Mahomed of Cabool, and his brother chiefs of the Barukzee clan, by no means relished the appearance of a prince of the Suddozee line at Herat. The Persian Government had placed him there as a means of establishing its influence in Affghanistan, and as a thorn in the side of the old Ameer; and one of the prince’s first acts was to push forward a detachment to take possession of Furrah, a town half-way on the road to Candahar. Upon this, the Barukzee chiefs resolved to forget their disagreements, and unite to prevent the encroachments of the common foe. Indeed, the aspect of affairs had begun to look menacing for the independence of Affghanistan. Not only had Herat been revolutionised by Persian agency, but Khiva had fallen under the domination of Persia and Russia; and the king of Bokhara was so concerned by these menacing events, and by the increasing number of Persian troops in Khorassan, that a letter from Bokhara (Sept. 1855) states that “owing to his disquiet he frequently fails in going to the Friday prayers in the Great Mosque.” Kokan, the third and remaining state of Central Asia, was likewise apprehensive of a Muscovite attack; and several Russian agents were reported to be wandering about in Turkistan as petty traders, professing themselves Jews. The danger had been early descried by the shrewd old Ameer of Cabool, who had sent a friendly embassy and presents to the king of Khiva; but ere they arrived the king had been killed, the Russians and Persians were in possession, and the Affghan embassy was treated with the utmost contumely. Indeed, the ambitious projects of the Persian government had been revealed to himself by an offer from the Shah to aid him with money and troops against all foreign powers, if he would consent to own the suzerainty of Persia. Turning a deaf ear to the insidious proposal, the old Ameer sent a trusty messenger to Mahomed Said at Herat, a short time before that prince’s death, to warn him of his danger from Persia; but that dissolute wretch being in his cups when the messenger arrived, ordered his beard to be shaved, and nearly had him blown out of the mouth of a cannon! Turning to the British, Dost Mahomed contracted with our Indian Government a treaty of general amity, but failed to obtain from it the guarantee which he desired for the independence of Affghanistan and Herat.

It is manifest that the Persian government was resolved to find or make a pretext for the actual invasion of Affghanistan. In December 1855, when Prince Yusoof was still its obedient vassal, the Teheran Official Gazette announced the intention of the government to despatch an army to Herat,—alleging in excuse that Dost Mahomed had made himself master of Candahar, to the prejudice of the relatives of the deceased sirdar of that place, Kohendil Khan (a half-brother of Dost Mahomed, who with his family leant much to Persia), and that he meditated an attack upon Herat. In the same article it was insinuated that these proceedings on the part of the Dost were instigated and aided by the British Government; nevertheless the Persian Court, following the usual Muscovite ruse, professed its desire to maintain inviolate its position of neutrality. In a subsequent manifesto, published before despatching the army, the Shah represented Mr Murray’s retirement as a mere personal misunderstanding, and explained the Herat expedition as one undertaken at the urgent entreaty of Prince Yusoof, in order to save the place from the threatened attack of Dost Mahomed’s forces. In refutation of these allegations, it is sufficient to say that neither the Ameer nor a single soldier of his had been within 200 miles of Herat, and that he had made no preparations for such an attack. The Persian Government at the same time announced its intention of despatching a corps of 20,000 men to Candahar, to reinstate Kohendil Khan’s son in the government.

Last spring the Persian army commenced its march to Herat, and in due course reached its destination. At Gorian, thirty miles to the west of Herat, they met and cut up a body either of Affghans or of Turkoman cavalry coming to the assistance of the menaced city. Prince Yusoof inclined to favour the Persian cause; and with his consent the first Persian detachment that arrived, under Sano Khan, was admitted into the city. But the Barukzee party is strong in Herat; the Alekozee clan, to which Yar Mahomed belonged, and of which Esa Khan is a chief, likewise declared against the Persians; and the result was that Sano Khan was ejected, and preparations made for a vigorous defence. Messengers were sent to Dost Mahomed, then at Candahar, and to the British Commissioner in Scinde, urgently entreating aid; and several successful sorties were made, blowing up the Persian magazines, and destroying their supplies. The defence was conducted jointly by Prince Yusoof and Esa Khan. Meanwhile the main body of the Persian army arrived under Murad Mirza, the commander-in-chief, raising the besieging force to 30,000 men; but it was not till the end of August that any serious action took place. Of the two great sects which divide the Mahomedan world, the Persians belong to one (Sheahs) and the Affghans and Turks to the other (Sunnees). A portion of the population of Herat, probably descendants of the Persian colony planted by Nadir Shah, are Sheeites; and betwixt certain chiefs of this sect and their co-religionists without, a secret correspondence was opened; and it was concerted that about noon, when Esa Khan and his chief officers were at prayers in the mosque, a body of Persians should surprise and take possession of one of the gates and the tower which commanded it. On the 29th August the attempt was made with success, and the gate and tower were seized by a detachment of the besieging force; but the main body remained inactive, and Esa Khan, hastily collecting his troops, gallantly led them against the enemy. The mêlée was so confused that the Persians were unable to use their muskets, and, overpowered by the rush of the Affghans, armed with hanjars, were driven out with great slaughter. Being pursued by the Affghans beyond the gates, the routed Persians suffered still more severely, till they were carried off by a brigade sent to their rescue. Reinforcements, however, continued to arrive to the besieging army; intrenchments were thrown up around each gate, to make the blockade complete; and a native eyewitness states that “the Persians built barracks for their troops, so that there are so many buildings in the camp that it appears to form another city rivalling Herat.” M. Buhler, a French officer, who was sent to the camp with special recommendations from the Shah, gave an impulse of energy to the whole army; and by his advice the trenches were pushed far in advance, till at several points the head of the boyau was within from ten to fifteen yards of the ditch. Discouragement began to spread in the city; provisions were scarce; the Sheeites were deserting and taking service with the enemy; the succours promised by Dost Mahomed were not forthcoming, and defections were reported among the Affghan chiefs. Finding his affairs desperate, Prince Yusoof made an attempt to escape from the city—other accounts say he was ejected by the Affghans; and, being taken by the Persians, was sent as a prisoner to Teheran, where he received the pardon of the Shah.

The defence now devolved wholly upon Esa Khan, who appears to have acted throughout with much gallantry. But it was impossible to avert the fall of the place. By the third week of October a considerable breach had been made at the foot of one of the numerous towers which flank the walls of the town; but in order to reach that spot it was necessary to carry an advanced work, which had been erected at a former time by the advice of British officers. The Persian attacking columns, composed of picked troops, rushed forward to the assault with intrepidity; and the Affghans, though they stood the first shock, were soon obliged to give way. Upon this, seeing that further resistance was impossible, Esa Khan (25th October) surrendered, and Herat was taken possession of by the Persians.

Nor was Herat the goal of Persian aggression. At an early period of the siege, a Persian corps had been pushed forward to Furrah, an Affghan town about 180 miles due south from Herat, at the point where the main road turns eastward towards Candahar. Furrah, although surrounded by a high earthen rampart, appears to have been captured without opposition; and thereafter a further advance was made towards Geerishk (a town lying between Furrah and Candahar, and within 60 miles of the latter city), where some skirmishing took place between the Persians and the advanced guard of the Ameer’s forces,—about 8000 of whom were stationed for the defence of Candahar. The latest intelligence reports that the Persian army has greatly extended itself in Affghanistan. It has pushed southwards from Furrah, taking possession of the province of Seistan—as well as eastwards, threatening Khelat and Candahar. And the result of these successes, following the capture of Herat, has been to induce not a few of the Affghan chiefs to lean to Persia as the winning side,—among others, Sultan Mahomed, the ex-chief of Peshawur, who was caught intriguing with the Persians against his brother the Ameer, and by the latter was summarily ordered off to Cabool.

Independently of any treaty forbidding Persia to invade Affghanistan, it is obvious that the British had as clear a right to defend that country as the Persians had to attack it. Our aid, moreover, had been urgently solicited by the Affghans themselves. A proclamation of war, accordingly, was made at Calcutta, on the 1st of November; and a fortnight afterwards a naval expedition was despatched from Bombay for the Persian Gulf, where the island of Karrak (seized in the former war) has been reoccupied, and the town and port of Bushire taken possession of. In the proclamation of war (as is too commonly the case in diplomatic documents), the reasons of common-sense and national interest are passed over in silence; and the whole ground of hostilities is made to rest upon the convention concluded between Colonel Sheil and the Persian Government in January 1853—of which more anon. As it is important to note the terms of the proclamation, we quote its principal clauses. After referring to the convention of 1853, it proceeds as follows:—

“By those articles the Persian Government engaged not to send troops to Herat on any account, unless foreign troops—that is, troops from the direction of Cabool or Candahar, or other foreign country—should invade Herat. In the event of troops being sent, the Persian Government engaged that the said troops should not enter the city of Herat; and that, on the return of the foreign troops towards their own territory, the Persian troops should be immediately withdrawn from the neighbourhood of Herat to Persian soil.

“The Persian Government also engaged to abstain from all interference whatsoever in the internal affairs of Herat, whether ‘in taking possession, or occupying, or assuming the sovereignty, or governing, except in so far as interference existed between the two parties during the lifetime of the late Yar Mahomed.’

“And, lastly, the Persian Government engaged to relinquish all pretension to and demand for the coinage, or the reading of the Khootbeh, or any other acknowledgment of allegiance or subjection on the part of the people of Herat to the government of Persia.

“It was, at the same time, stipulated that, so long as there should be no interference of any sort whatever on the part of the British Government in the affairs of Herat, the engagements contracted by the Persian Government, as aforesaid, should remain in full force and effect. On the other hand, it was agreed in the name of the British Government, that ‘if any foreign power, such as the Affghans or others,’ should wish to interfere with, or take possession of Herat, the British Government, on the requisition of the Persian Ministers, would not object to restrain such foreign power by friendly advice, ‘so that Herat might remain in its own state of independence.’

“While the British Government has faithfully and constantly adhered to the obligations which it accepted [?] under the agreement of January 1853, the Government of Persia has manifested a deliberate and persevering disregard of the reciprocal engagements, by which at the same time it became bound, and is now endeavouring to subvert by force the independence of Herat, which was the declared object of the agreement in question.”

Herat, the proximate cause of this war, needs a word of description. The Times asks, “Where is Herat?” and as it is obvious that every year will give the British nation a livelier interest in that part of the world, it may be useful to give a general sketch of the locality. Let us say, then, that Affghanistan, with its five millions of a warlike race, intervenes like a huge quadrangular mountain-citadel between India and Persia,—and that Herat is the only gate by which entrance can be obtained to this citadel from the west. The lofty Suleiman range of mountains, running parallel with the Indus, bounds Affghanistan on the east; the still more lofty range of the Hindoo Koosh (a continuation of the Himalayas) bounds it on the north; to the south, the sandy plains of Beloochistan stretch between it and the sea; and on the west it is separated from Persia by the deserts of Khorassan. Across those deserts the only passage for an army is to be found at their north side, where two or three routes exist more or less practicable for troops. These routes all converge and unite as they approach the north-west angle of Affghanistan, where stands Herat. This city, then, is the door which must be opened before entrance can be obtained to the quadrangular mass of mountains, valleys, and waterless plateaus which constitute Affghanistan. Its situation is one of great military and commercial importance. The peaceful files of the caravan, and the dread battalions of war, alike pass through it on their march from India to Persia, or from Persia to India. The long camel-trains from Delhi, Mooltan, and Lahore pass through it, bearing the merchandise of India and the manufactures of England to the distant towns and oases of Persia and Turkistan; and so completely is Herat a gateway of commerce that it is called Bunder, or Port,—although the only sea upon which it borders are seas of sand. The march of conquest has passed through it from time immemorial. The cavalry-host of Timour and the disciplined army of Nadir Shah, in their invasions of India, went and came by this route; and though Alexander the Great, Gengis Khan, and Baber marched by Balkh, and crossed the Hindoo Koosh immediately to the north of Cabool, the route by Herat is the only one practicable for an army with the usual complement of artillery. The country around Herat affords an admirable halting-place for armies. It is a spacious plain, thirty miles long and half as broad, once studded with villages, and still exhibiting a fair expanse of gardens, vineyards, and corn-fields; while the Herat river and “the bright waters of small running streams [canals?] lighten the pleasant landscape,” and fertilise the plain. In the hamlets and gardens around, the celebrated attar, or otto of roses, is manufactured; and such is the profusion of this regal flower that Herat has been styled the City of Roses. In the midst of the plain stands the city, now much fallen from its olden prosperity, but still containing a population of about fifty thousand, and destined ever to retain much wealth and importance from lying in the track of the caravans. Its staple commodities are silk, assafœtida, and saffron; and the principal merchants of the place are Hindoos. Like most Asiatic towns, there is much dirt and desolation within; yet water, that prime necessity of Oriental life, is so abundant that almost every house has a fountain, besides the public ones in the bazaars. The city, which forms a square, each side of which is about a mile long, is strongly fortified for an Eastern town, being encircled by a solid bastioned earthen wall and wet ditch; and within there is a citadel, a square castle built of burnt brick, elevated on a mound, sufficiently strong to constitute a rallying-point, but incapable of separate defence. Abundant crops of wheat and barley, and every kind of fruit known in Persia, are supplied by the fertile region around; and though cattle are not very numerous, there are large flocks of the broad-tailed sheep so well known and prized in Central Asia. Thus no better camping-ground and quarters could be found for an army; and as an intermediate station between the deserts on the west and the Affghan mountains on the east, it is for such a purpose invaluable. It is a vast place d’armes, where all assaulting columns from the west must unite and recruit before making their final attack upon the defences of our Indian empire. To speak in miniature, it is just such a place as a skilful defender of India would desire to cover with a horn-work, in order to prevent the enemy from getting possession of a spot where they could collect their forces under cover, and from which they could so advantageously push forward their assault upon our interior works of defence.

“We have a garden, which is India; the walls are the fortified towns of Tartary and Affghanistan. Let the Russians once seize them, and our garden is theirs.” So said Sir Richmond Shakspere to the Khan of Khiva, in language not more finely figurative than true; and M. Ferrier, the French officer who lately wandered with the caravans throughout that region, and who has elaborately speculated on the future of Russian and Anglo-Indian power in the East, adds, “I believe he is right.” In the imperial policy of Russia, designs upon India have been very long cherished. First sighted by the genius of Peter, and first practically contemplated by the madman Paul; talked of by Alexander and Napoleon, and sketched out like a grand dream by the latter, the invasion of India is a design never laid aside at the Court of St Petersburg. But apart from the question of design, look at the mere facts. Russia is advancing farther and farther into Asia, nearer and nearer to the bulwarks of our Indian empire. “If we go on at this rate,” said Baron Brunow to Sir John Hobhouse, in 1837, “the Cossack and the Sepoy will soon meet on the banks of the Oxus.” They will so meet some day. Russia knows this, and intends this; and it were well that the grand issue to which things are tending should be timeously perceived in England. Nothing can stop the progress of Russia through Central Asia,—one might as well think of stopping the welling of a fountain or the movement of a glacier. And before this generation pass away, Russia will have organised the forces of Persia on her side, and be sitting in armed leaguer around our mountain outworks of Affghanistan. For we hardly contemplate the possibility of the British Government being so demented as to allow these hostile powers to effect a lodgment in the Affghan territories.

When engaged in a desperate war with Great Britain in Europe, it was most natural for Russia to seek to disquiet us on the side of India. But even before the war, our Government had felt the serious inconveniences resulting from the downfall of British ascendancy at the Court of Teheran. Persia is lastingly covetous of Herat; and knowing that Russia, now the dominant power in Central Asia, is secretly but assuredly in favour of the project, it was with difficulty that the Shah could be induced to keep his hands off the coveted city, or to pay ordinary respect to our embassy, which was always on the watch to thwart him. Rarely has the foreign policy of this country been more actively and beneficially directed than during the nine months that Lord Malmesbury presided at the Foreign Office; and it is to this statesman that we owe the “convention” of January 1853, by which Persia bound herself to abstain from attacking, occupying, or making any claim of sovereignty over Herat. This convention was signed by the Persian Government, but was never ratified by ours. An attempt is being now made to show that this non-ratification is of no importance, as the convention was simply a pledge on the part of Persia, and was duly signed by her. But this is not true,—for it contained a reciprocal agreement on the part of the British Government to restrain any Affghan power from attacking Herat; therefore, not being ratified by our Government, the whole convention is null. The question naturally arises,—Why was not the treaty ratified? The explanation of this unusual and unfortunate circumstance demands consideration. Diplomacy often keeps secret from one generation what is duly revealed to the next, (when the information is useless); and probably it will ere long be known that this country was nearer a rupture with Russia in 1852 than the public are aware of. In an article on the Aberdeen Ministry (July 1855), we mentioned the anti-Russian policy of Lord Derby’s Administration as a secret cause of the abrupt overthrow of the Conservative rule. Russian influence prevented the appointment of Lord de Redcliffe to the Foreign Office; and anecdotes are current which indicate that the differences between the two Governments were so great as to threaten even a warlike result. Persia, in fact, was giving us serious provocations, and went the length of officially announcing her intention to regard Herat as an appanage, which she would maintain by force of arms against any Affghan power that might contest her claim. If we are to believe M. Ferrier, a Russian force of 5000 men was simultaneously (autumn of 1852) landed at Astrabad, and advanced eastwards up the river Attruck (which forms the boundary between Persia and Turkistan), and was only recalled upon an ultimatum to that effect being presented by England at St Petersburg. At that time the British Government threatened to break off diplomatic relations with the Court of Teheran, and directed Colonel Sheil to intimate that hostile measures would be had recourse to in the event of Persia making any attack upon the independence of Affghanistan. The result of this firmness on the part of the British Government was, that the Persian Government gave up its pretensions to Herat, and signed the terms of treaty required by Colonel Sheil. The treaty was concluded in January 1853, but in the preceding month a change of Ministry had taken place in England. Lord Aberdeen and the “Coalition” had displaced Lord Derby; and philo-Russianism and implicit faith in the word and policy of the Czar had become the order of the day. Therefore, say we, the treaty was never ratified. If there be another explanation, let it be stated, and let blame fall upon the right shoulders. But this much is certain, that in consequence of the non-ratification of that treaty, the proclamation of war with Persia issued by our Government is groundless; for it founds wholly upon a violation of that treaty, and the treaty is utterly null.

When the war in Europe commenced, the Shah, flattered by Russia, saw in it a favourable opportunity for reviving his projects against Herat and Affghanistan; and so he plunged into the present quarrel. Despite his professions of neutrality, the crafty Persian is said to have followed the diplomatic and strategic counsels of the Russian Government; and there is reason to believe that, but for the intervention of the Paris negotiations, a Russian armament would have crossed the Caspian early in spring, and occupied the Persian towns of Amol and Astrabad,—the goal of the expedition being Herat. The Peace of Paris, though it stopped the actual entrance of the Russians into Persia, allowed the Court of St Petersburg to make a great addition to her forces on the Caspian; and at the beginning of November, immediately after the fall of Herat, orders were given at St Petersburg to assemble an army of 40,000 men on the Persian frontiers. Prince Bariatinski was appointed Lieutenant-General of the Caucasian provinces, with ampler powers than his predecessors. All the war-steamers on the Caspian have been fully manned by the arrival of seamen from the naval ports. The war-magazines throughout the whole region, in part exhausted by the war, have been refilled; and it appears that both troops and stores have of late been transported by water to Astrabad, or the islands adjoining it. The “fiery” Chruleff commands the corps-d’armée echeloned from Bakou to Erivan, along the verge of the Persian frontier; and as the principal weight of the Russian armaments is accumulated in this quarter, it is to be expected that the main intervention (if there be one) will take place from this point. Several staff-officers have been despatched into the adjoining Persian province of Mazanderan, to reconnoitre the passage for troops and to draw topographical plans; and in the event of invasion, it is designed to occupy strongly the defiles of the Caspian Gates and of Komis, as it is by these two points that the centre of Persia can be approached. While these preparations are in progress, the semi-official letters from St Petersburg which appear in the Continental journals, boast that, despite the noisy demonstrations of England, Russia, owing to her silent preparations, will be able to take the upper hand of us in Persia; and the Russian journal Le Nord points to Persia “as a field of battle upon which, one day or other, there will be measured the relative strength of two great powers, which are at the same time European and Asiatic; and where will be ultimately decided the fortunes of Russia.”

The long-debated question as to the possibility of Russia attacking India is now universally regarded as solved in the affirmative. Those who once so stoutly denied it, must have been men who could not look beyond the present hour, and conceived that the world would stand still ever as it was in their day. Every decade of years has been removing some difficulty which these men thought insuperable. In these days of railways, telegraphs, and steam-navigation (of all of which Russia is availing herself), the remaining difficulties will vanish still more rapidly. Russia is not ready for an actual onset upon our Indian empire, but she is both ready and willing to engage with us in warlike rivalry for ascendancy over the intervening region of Persia, and will push forward her Asiatic vassals against the Indian ramparts which she herself is not yet ready to assail. The policy of Russia is a game of centuries. She will not spring too soon; she has learnt that grand secret of success—to wait. But waiting, with her, is not inaction; and her approaches towards India are now sufficiently far advanced to cause us active disquietude. She has begun in earnest to push forward her tirailleurs against us preparatory to the pitched battle. She will continue to throw Persia against our first parallel of defence, Affghanistan; and, if unopposed, will carry the sap of bribery and coercion through that mountain-rampart up to the very plains of India. Henceforth we may look for a series of harassing attacks, increasing in magnitude—wandering Turkomans and civilised Persians being alike pressed into the service, until Russia descend herself into the arena, and press the assault with all her forces. It is at present only an affair of outposts; but such skirmishes often decide the issue of the ensuing battle, by allowing one side or other to seize posts of vantage which dominate over the rest of the field. Such a post is Herat; and if we do not get the Persians quickly expelled from it, we shall give them time to fortify and maintain it until the Russians also may arrive on the scene,—in which case the contest around its walls would at once assume most formidable proportions.

It is important to note the means and routes by which the Russians may advance to Affghanistan. It has been far too much the custom of geographers, as well as of the multitude, to regard all unknown regions as desert. Blank expanses in maps, undotted by the tiny circles which represent towns, we are too apt to look upon as uninhabitable solitudes, forgetful that the ignorance of the chart-maker may have as much to do with the matter as any want of population and fertility in the region itself. In this way we have been accustomed, from our schooldays upwards, to regard the whole interior of Africa as an expanse of arid sand, whereas the recent explorations of Dr Livingstone and others show it to be in many parts one of the most luxuriant regions of the earth. We suspect that a larger portion of Central Asia will be found habitable and fertile than is now believed; and we shall see immediately, on the testimony of M. Ferrier and others, corroborated by the inductions of common sense, that not only the routes from the Caspian to Herat, but also those viâ Khiva and the Oxus, do not lie through such arid wastes as is commonly supposed. Omne ignotum pro deserto seems to be as common a notion in geography, as is the tendency in other sciences to make synonymous terms of the unknown and the wonderful.

In describing the routes by which Russia is advancing towards the mountain-portals of India, let us start from the heart of the Czar’s empire, viz., St Petersburg and Moscow,—twin capitals, already united to one another by railway, and soon about to be similarly united with the western and southern frontiers of the empire. From Moscow, the ancient and semi-Asiatic capital of Russia, the route stretches north-east to the banks of the Volga at Nishni-Novgorod,—the water-gate to Central Asia, and the scene of the great fair to which traders annually repair from all parts of northern and central Asia. The projected Moscow and Novgorod railway will encounter no engineering difficulties; for the country is an undulating plain, diversified by low hills, none of which rise more than five hundred feet above the sea-level. From Novgorod the route to Asia is by water, on the broad and vast stream of the Volga, upon which ply steamboats and craft of all kinds, in numbers already great, and yearly increasing; and by this cheapest of all kinds of conveyance, stores and troops are annually transported to and from the Persian frontiers. Sixteen or seventeen hundred miles of this watery highway, running south-eastwards, bring us to Astrakan, where the Volga debouches into the Caspian Sea. Here a long sheet of water opens out, extending nearly 700 miles from north to south, and varying from 100 to 250 miles in breadth. With the exception of a part of the western coast adjoining the mouth of the Terek, the shores are said to be bold, and the water so deep that in some places 450 fathoms will not reach the bottom. This inland sea is in the exclusive possession of Russia. No ship of war can sail its waters unless it bear the Russian flag. Indeed Persia, forbidden by treaty to have armed vessels of her own in that sea, has for a long time been compelled to invoke the assistance of the Russian war-ships, as a means of coercing the Turkomans on the eastern coast; the consequence of which has been, that not only the Turkomans, but the population of the Persian provinces adjoining the Caspian, have learnt to stand more in awe of the Russians than of their natural rulers. The islands of the Caspian virtually belong to Russia, and two important insular groups, one in the bay of Balkan, half-way down the eastern side of the sea, and another in the bay of Astrabad, in the south-eastern corner, have just been seized by the Muscovites, as if in preparation for ulterior movements on the adjoining portions of the mainland.

From the shores of the Caspian, Russia is preparing to advance by two grand converging lines upon Affghanistan. Of these lines, one sets out from the north-eastern shores of the Caspian, the other from its south-eastern extremity. The latter, starting from Astrabad and proceeding straight to Herat, seems to us designed for the main attack; the former, proceeding viâ Khiva and the Oxus, as a supporting flank-movement. Along either of these lines Russian corps may make an early advance for the purpose of skirmishing, causing disquiet, and weakening British prestige in Affghanistan; or even, in concert with Persia, of taking permanent possession of Herat, if we are so tardy in our movements as to allow of her doing so. But the real attack, the solid and deliberate charge which meditates no recoiling, will not be made by Russia until she have converted Persia into a vassal state, and efficiently organised her forces and resources. This she will seek to do by keeping the Shah on the throne, but subjecting the Persian army to Russian officers and drill, and pulling the wires of the puppet government from St Petersburg. The accomplishment of all this by Russia is, in our opinion, a mere question of time; and, once accomplished, it will be found that in absorbing Persia our great Asiatic rival has most formidably added to his strength. The Persian army at present consists of 80,000 infantry; an artillery which, like that of all Asiatic nations, is better than its infantry; and clouds of cavalry, that can perform marches of sixty or seventy miles a-day for several successive days, without inconvenience—thus being able to pass over tracts wholly impracticable to ordinary troops, and make most effective surprises. The raw material of the Persian army is excellent. “If regularly disciplined,” says Sir John M‘Neill, “and led by a competent number of European officers of intelligence and activity, there are few armies that, in a campaign in Asia, could boast of any great superiority over that of Persia. The men are singularly tractable, orderly, and obedient,—active, contented, and intelligent,—capable of enduring extraordinary fatigue and privations,—easily fed, and maintained at a moderate cost,—by no means wanting in courage or enterprise, and capable of perfect attachment to their officers,—in short, admirable materials for soldiers.” Such is the Power which Russia is moulding to her purposes,—over which she is likely immediately to get a still firmer hold,—and which will march by her side, or as a vanguard, in her onsets upon Affghanistan. So that, while a Russian corps advances from Astrabad as the base of its Trans-Caspian operations, the military forces of the Shah will advance from the heart of Persia, and both together march by contiguous and parallel routes to Herat.

From the Caspian to Herat is a distance of not quite six hundred miles. Part of this distance the Russians might travel by water, up the river Goorgan, and the still larger Attruck river,—both of which fall into the Caspian a little to the north of Astrabad, and the courses of which run due eastwards in the direction of Herat. Independently of these routes by water, which might be of use for nearly a third part of the way, three parallel lines of road lead through northern Khorassan to Herat. On all of these a scarcity of water, necessitating long marches, occurs at some points; but they are constantly travelled by the caravans, and have been repeatedly traversed by Persian armies and their artillery without difficulty. We could easily accumulate testimony, from the personal observations of Burnes, Conolly, M‘Neill, and Ferrier, to show that the region between the Caspian and Herat is no desert, that the food-supplies are sufficiently abundant, and the roads quite practicable for armies; but, not to speak of more ancient cases, we think the simple fact that Persian armies have repeatedly made the journey both backwards and forwards within the last thirty years, renders the tendering of such proof mere pedantry and supererogation. Let it suffice, then, to quote the compendious affirmation of Sir John M‘Neill, who, writing from Meshed, in the very heart of these routes, and speaking of the region to the east of Herat as well as to the west of it, says: “The country between the frontiers of Persia and India is far more productive than I had imagined it to be; and I can assure your lordship there is no impediment, either from the physical features of the country or from deficiency of supplies, to the march of a large army from the frontiers of Georgia to Candahar, or, as I believe, to the Indus.”

And so we reach Herat, by the main line of Russo-Persian attack. The other line of attack by which the Russians are advancing towards Affghanistan starts from the northern instead of the southern extremity of the Caspian, stretching across to the Aral Sea, making Khiva and its fertile oasis a base of operations, and thereafter ascending the great river Oxus to Balkh,—from whence a road leads due south, crossing the Hindoo Koosh at Bameean, to Cabool. In order to facilitate the crossing of the steppes between the Caspian and Aral Seas, the Russians have been slowly preparing three distinct routes for the march of troops. One of these ascends the course of the navigable river Yemba (which falls into the Caspian at its north-eastern corner), to a point where the river approaches the Aral Sea; and from that point there has been dug a line of wells, around which military colonies of Cossacks have been settled, across the steppe to the sea. These colonies of Cossacks, says M. Ferrier, “cultivate the surrounding soil, and create resources which never existed before; so that in a few years an army will be able to obtain sufficient food and forage in all their encampments, and will reach the Aral Sea without difficulty.” To the south of this line of wells lie two others,—one reaching from the river Ourloo Irghiz (a tributary of the Caspian), and tending towards the northern part of the Aral Sea; the other commencing from two points (Mangishlak and Dash-killeh) on the eastern shore of the Caspian, and uniting half-way in one line, which thence proceeds in the direction of Khiva, at the southern end of the Aral Sea. On the Aral, as on the Caspian, the Russians have already established a flotilla, which will serve to navigate the great Oxus river,—indeed, it is said that they even have steamers already plying upon that river. “The outposts of the Orenburg corps,” says a Russian letter, “extend to the very extremity of the country of Turan, upon the rivers Oxus and Jaxartes; and the military flotilla of the Sea of Aral is brought by the above-named rivers to the frontiers of India.” By this means the Russians will in due time advance south-eastwards up its course,—past Bokhara, which will fall, as Khiva has already fallen, under their domination—up to Balkh, where the Oxus ceases to be navigable, and which they must make a point d’appui before pushing southwards by the Bameean and five other more difficult passes to Cabool. It was by these passes through the Hindoo Koosh that Alexander, Baber, and Timour made their way into Affghanistan; but as the armies of the two latter were chiefly composed of Tartar horse, and that of the former had no artillery (though heavily baggaged), the success of their invasions is no test of the practicability of this route for a modern army; and it appears that, even if undefended, the Bameean passes are only traversable by a force armed with light or mountain artillery. As Russia, when she establishes herself at Balkh, will have the whole cavalry of Khiva, Bokhara, and the Turkomanian steppes on her side, it is obvious that the least slip made in the defence—the least opening left in the line of the Hindoo Koosh, would in such circumstances involve most embarrassing consequences to the defenders. Nevertheless it is equally obvious that such a quarter is ill suited to be made the object of the main attack, and that it is rather to be regarded as a flank movement subsidiary to, and in support of, the main line of Russo-Persian attack, viâ Astrabad and Meshed, against Herat.

One important object which, it seems to us, Russia has in advancing by Khiva and the Oxus, is the power which it will confer of winning or coercing the hardy tribes of Turkistan, which she will thus, as it were, catch in a net between her two lines of advance. Horses, cattle, and camels are the staple products of the region, and will thus be procured in great abundance; while the horsemen of the steppes, greedy of gain and fond of warlike adventure, would readily join in any enterprise against the regions of the south. For such auxiliaries, and even for a European corps, there is another route from the Oxus than that which leads to the Bameean passes of the Hindoo Koosh. Instead of proceeding all the way up the Oxus to Balkh, and thence crossing the mountains to Cabool, this other route leaves the banks of the Oxus at Charjooee (half-way between the Aral Sea and Balkh), and strikes due southwards by Merv to Herat. The desert between Charjooee and Merv was crossed by Burnes in 1832, and does not present the difficulties which he anticipated. It is crossed almost annually by the khans of Khiva and Bokhara, at the head of expeditions sometimes numbering ten or twelve thousand horse; and M. Ferrier, who believes this route practicable for an army, states, that in the winter and spring even the desert steppes are covered with sufficient herbage to meet the requirements of an army. From Charjooee to Merv is about 130 miles; from Merv to Herat, about 240,—in all, 370. But the difficulties of the route terminate at Merv, where there is a well-watered oasis; and from thence the expeditionary force could march along the banks of the Morghab river for nearly the whole way to Herat.

Thus, while flank-attacks might be made by the passes of the Hindoo Koosh upon Cabool, everything conspires to show that the main attack upon Affghanistan must take place by Herat. We have already described the importance of this place. “Herat,” said Captain Conolly, twenty-seven years ago, “could be made a place of considerable strength. Nothing can exceed the plenty and excellence of the supplies from the valley; and an army might be garrisoned there for years with every necessary within its reach.” That is just what the Russians will do with it, if ever it falls into their power. They will establish themselves there,—solidify their communications with the Caspian, by improving the roads and sinking wells,—push forward the sap of bribery and fair promises through Affghanistan, and excite disquiet and disaffection in India, until all things are ready for the grand assault and invasion. On the other hand, were Herat maintained by a British army, it would be almost impossible for either Persian or Russian to win a footing in its fertile valley. For it is one of the necessities of desert travelling, that an army can never march in a united body. It must advance in separate divisions, by different routes, or with intervals of one or more days’ march between each corps, from the difficulty of maintaining a large force at any one halting-place, and in order that the scanty wells may have time to refill themselves. The consequence is, that were an efficient force concentrated about Gorian, at the western extremity of the Herat valley, it could attack the invading army with decisive advantage as the wearied corps came up in succession, or by separate routes, from their thirsty march through northern Khorassan.

Other topics connected with the war in Asia invite attention, and may be treated of in a future article. It will suffice for the present to have directed attention to the slow and sure advance of a rival European Power towards our Indian “garden,”—to the circumstances out of which has arisen the present war with Persia—and the immense importance of Herat as the door of Affghanistan and key to the mountain-portals of our Indian empire. As to the merits of the war with Persia, we have clearly expressed ourselves. The grounds upon which our Government, in the proclamation of war, has justified a recourse to hostilities, are quite inadmissible; for they are founded upon a treaty which never was ratified. But, though wrong in its plea, the British Government was perfectly justified in having recourse to hostilities,—nay, more, it was imperatively called upon by the interests of the empire to take such a course. It is a strange misfortune that the treaty of 1853 was never ratified by the Aberdeen Government, and in such circumstances it was a grievous error of the present Government to found upon a document so obviously null. But the grand and simple justification of hostilities remains—namely, that apart from all conventions, if Persia choose to attack Affghanistan, we have an equal right to act in its defence; and that every principle of national interest concurred in urging us so to act. It will be a sad day for our Indian empire when Persia succeeds in establishing her power in Affghanistan.

As to the military measures of the Government, the least that we can say is that they have failed in warding off the most pressing danger. Not only Herat, but the whole western front of Affghanistan, embracing a third of the entire region, is in the hands of the Persians, who are doubtless consolidating their position there. The expedition to the Persian Gulf is a most important movement as regards ulterior results, but all the measures of actual defence for Affghanistan have been marked by a dilatoriness which has rendered them fruitless. The plan of the Government was, that a select band of officers should proceed to Herat to aid in its defence,—and had they gained that city in time it would have been saved; but although Herat held out much longer than was anticipated, the Persians were masters of it before the British officers had set out on their journey! Money and arms, too, were ordered by the Home Government to be transmitted to Dost Mahomed, in order that he might manœuvre to raise the siege; but so tardily was the resolution taken that even yet no news has arrived of these supplies having reached Candahar! The fact is, our Indian Government ought to have been left to deal with Persia when that Power makes any attack upon Affghanistan; for in no other way can the requisite celerity of movement be attained. An army from the Caspian can reach Herat before the news of its starting can reach England, and Herat be easily captured before an answer from Downing Street be received at Bombay! In truth, even with the entire direction of affairs committed to the Indian Government, the chances are, that our measures of defence will be taken too late. The frontier of the Indus is too distant from Herat to allow of our maintaining that watch over its independence which is imperatively demanded by a regard for the safety of India. In 1839 our army, including a short halt at Khelat, took from the 23d February to the 25th April to march from Shikarpoor on the Indus to Candahar—about sixty days, a period that would suffice to bring an army to Herat from the Caspian; and other four hundred miles intervene between Candahar and Herat. In fact, the journey from the Indus to Herat is fully a half longer than that from Astrabad to the same place. These facts suggest grave reflections, which we cannot enter upon at the close of an article. But let the Government and public of this country lay this to heart, that a Russian corps could be landed at Astrabad, and be far on its march to Herat, before any intelligence of the event could reach England, or even India; and that the presence of a couple of Russian brigades, and a few engineers of the Todleben school, could hold the earthen defences of Herat for years against any force which we could bring against it. Even if the present danger blow over, these are facts which demand the most earnest attention of the Government and our military authorities.

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