I have dwelt at some length on this treaty with Afghanistan, first, because the policy of which this was the outcome was, as I have already shown, initiated by my father; and, secondly, because I do not think it is generally understood how important to us were its results.  Not only did it heal the wounds left open from the first Afghan war, but it relieved England of a great anxiety at a time when throughout the length and breadth of India there was distress, revolt, bloodshed, and bitter distrust of our Native troops.  Dost Mahomed loyally held to his engagements during the troublous days of the Mutiny which so quickly followed this alliance, when, had he turned against us, we should assuredly have lost the Punjab; Delhi could never have been taken; in fact, I do not see how any part of the country north of Bengal could have been saved.  Dost Mahomed’s own people could not understand his attitude.  They frequently came to him during the Mutiny, throwing their turbans at his feet, and praying him as a Mahomedan to seize that opportunity for destroying the ‘infidels.’  ‘Hear the news from Delhi,’ they urged; ’see the difficulties the Feringhis are in.  Why don’t you lead us on to take advantage of their weakness, and win back Peshawar?’[3]

But I am anticipating, and must return to my narrative.

The clause of the treaty which interested me personally was that relating to British officers being allowed to visit Afghanistan, to give effect to which a Mission was despatched to Kandahar.  It consisted of three officers, the brothers Harry and Peter Lumsden, and Dr. Bellew, together with two of Edwardes’s trusted Native Chiefs.  The selection of Peter Lumsden as a member of this Mission again left the Deputy Assistant-Quartermaster-Generalship vacant, and I was a second time appointed to officiate in his absence.

Shortly afterwards the General of the division (General Reed) started on his tour of inspection, taking me with him as his staff officer.  Jhelum was the first place we visited.  Whether the sepoys had then any knowledge of what was so soon to happen is doubtful.  If they had, there was no evidence that such was the case.  Nothing could have been more proper or respectful than their behaviour; no crimes were reported, no complaints were made.  The British officers, certainly, had not the slightest idea of the storm that was brewing, for they spoke in the warmest terms of their men.

From Jhelum we went to Rawal Pindi.  John Lawrence happened to be in camp there at the time, and looked on at the General’s inspection.  At the conclusion of the parade he sent his secretary to ask me if I would like to be appointed to the Public Works Department.  I respectfully declined the offer, though very grateful for its having been made.  Some of my friends doubted the wisdom of my refusing a permanent civil appointment; but it meant having to give up soldiering, which I could not make up my mind to do, and though only officiating, I was already in the department to which of all others I wished to belong.