As no sufficient disclaimer appeared, the London partisans of the Indian “forward policy” sought to induce Lord Derby and Lord Salisbury to take precautionary measures.  Their advice was summed up in the Note of January 11, 1875, written by that charming man and able administrator, Sir Bartle Frere.  Its chief practical recommendation was, firstly, the despatch of British officers to act as political agents at Cabul, Candahar, and Herat; and, secondly, the occupation of the commanding position of Quetta, in Baluchistan, as an outpost commanding the chief line of advance from Central Asia into India[296].

[Footnote 296:  General Jacob had long before advocated the occupation of this strong flanking position.  It was supported by Sir C. Dilke in his Greater Britain (1867).]

This Note soon gained the ear of the Cabinet; and on January 22, 1875, Lord Salisbury urged Lord Northbrook to take measures to procure the assent of the Ameer to the establishment of British officers at Candahar and Herat (not at Cabul)[297].  The request placed Lord Northbrook in an embarrassing position, seeing that he knew full well the great reluctance of the Ameer at all times to receive any British Mission.  On examining the evidence as to the Ameer’s objection to receive British Residents, the viceroy found it to be very strong, while there is ground for thinking that Ministers and officials in London either ignored it or sought to minimise its importance.  The pressure which they brought to bear on Lord Northbrook was one of the causes that led to his resignation (February 1876).  He believed that he was in honour bound by the promise, given to the Ameer at the Umballa Conference, not to impose a British Resident on him against his will.

[Footnote 297:  Parl.  Papers, Afghanistan, No. 1 (1878), pp. 128-129.]

He was succeeded by a man of marked personality, Lord Lytton.  The only son of the celebrated novelist, he inherited decided literary gifts, especially an unusual facility of expression both in speech and writing, in prose and verse.  Any tendency to redundance in speech is generally counted unfavourable to advancement in diplomatic circles, where Talleyrand’s mot as to language being a means of concealing thought still finds favour.  Owing, however, to the influence of his uncle, then British Ambassador at Washington, but far more to his own talents, Lytton rose rapidly in the diplomatic service, holding office in the chief embassies, until Disraeli discerned in the brilliant speaker and writer the gifts that would grace the new imperial policy in the East.

In ordinary times the new Viceroy would probably have crowned the new programme with success.  His charm and vivacity of manner appealed to orientals all the more by contrast with the cold and repellent behaviour that too often characterises Anglo-Indian officials in their dealings with natives.  Lytton’s mind was tinged with the eastern glow that lit up alike the stories, the speeches, and the policy of his chief.  It is true, the imperialist programme was as grandiosely vague as the meaning of Tancred itself; but in a land where forms and words count for much the lack of backbone in the new policy was less observed and commented on than by the matter-of-fact islanders whom it was designed to glorify.