[Illustration:  GENERAL SIR ABRAHAM ROBERTS, G.C.B.

From a photograph.]

My father had also been on terms of intimacy with Dost Mahomed himself and many other men of influence in Kabul, from whom, while at Peshawar, he received most interesting letters, in which anxiety was often expressed as to whether the English were amicably disposed towards the Amir.  To these communications my father was always careful to send courteous and conciliatory replies.  The correspondence which took place confirmed him in his frequently expressed opinion that it would be greatly to the advantage of the Government, and obviate the necessity for keeping such large garrisons on the frontier, if friendly relations could be established with the Amir, and with the neighbouring tribes, who more or less looked to the Ruler of Kabul as their Chief.  My father accordingly addressed the Secretary to the Government of India, and pointed out how successfully some of the most experienced Anglo-Indian officials had managed barbarous tribes by kindness and conciliation.

My father was prevented by ill-health from remaining long enough at Peshawar to see the result of his proposals, but it was a source of great satisfaction to him to learn before he left India[1] that they were approved by Lord Dalhousie (the Governor-General), and that they were already bearing fruit.  That the Amir was himself ready to respond to any overtures made to him was evident from a letter written by a brother of the Dost’s, which was discovered amongst the papers of Colonel Mackeson (the Commissioner of Peshawar) after his death.  It was still more gratifying to my father to find that the views of Mackeson’s successor, Lieutenant-Colonel Herbert Edwardes, on this subject entirely coincided with his own.  This distinguished officer and brilliant administrator zealously maintained this policy, and succeeded in establishing such a good understanding with the Ruler of Kabul that, when the Mutiny broke out, Afghanistan stood aloof, instead of, as might have been the case, turning the scale against us.

The Peshawar division in 1852 was not only the most important, but the largest, in India.  It included besides Attock, Rawal Pindi, and Jhelum, the hill-station of Murree, which had only been recently occupied.  The cantonment of Peshawar had been laid out by Sir Colin Campbell (afterwards Lord Clyde), who commanded there when we first occupied that place in 1849.  He crowded the troops, European and Native, into as small a space as possible in order that the station might be the more easily protected from the raids of the Afridis and other robber tribes, who had their homes in the neighbouring mountains, and constantly descended into the valley for the sake of plunder.  To resist these marauders it was necessary to place guards all round the cantonment.  The smaller the enclosure, the fewer guards would be required.  From this point of view alone was Sir Colin’s action excusable; but the result of this overcrowding was what it always is, especially in a tropical climate like that of India, and for long years Peshawar was a name of terror to the English soldier from its proverbial unhealthiness.  The water-supply for the first five-and-twenty years of our occupation was extremely bad, and sanitary arrangements, particularly as regards Natives, were apparently considered unnecessary.