The First Anglo-Afghan War - Part Two: Britain Took Kabul - But Disaster Was on the Horizon

 

The First Anglo-Afghan War - Part Two: Britain Took Kabul - But Disaster Was on the Horizon

In Part One, we found out why Britain invaded Afghanistan in 1839 and why Dost Mohammad Khan was seen as a problem for the British in India.

Today I want to continue the story and find out how British and Indian forces advanced through Afghanistan, captured the fortress of Ghazni and eventually entered Kabul.

At first, the campaign appeared to be going well.

The Army of the Indus had entered Afghanistan with the intention of removing Dost Mohammad and restoring the former ruler Shah Shuja to the throne.

Their first major objective was Kandahar.

As the army approached, the local rulers fled and Kandahar was occupied without a major battle. Shah Shuja was proclaimed ruler there, and for the British it seemed that their plan was working.

But Kabul still lay ahead.

One of the biggest obstacles on the route was the powerful fortress of Ghazni.

The fortress was surrounded by high walls and it looked extremely difficult to capture. To make matters even worse, much of the heavy artillery normally needed for a siege had been left behind because transporting it across the difficult Afghan terrain had proved to be challenging.

The British therefore needed to find another way inside.

They learned that one of the gates was less heavily defended than the others.

Before dawn on the 23rd of July 1839, engineers from the British-led force placed explosives against the gate and blew it open.

Troops then rushed through.

Fierce fighting followed inside the fortress, but Ghazni eventually fell to the British-led force.

The victory was enormously important.

Not only had a major obstacle on the road to Kabul been removed, but the fall of Ghazni also weakened Dost Mohammad's position.

As the invading army continued towards Kabul, Dost Mohammad realised that he could no longer hold the capital and withdrew.

This meant that Kabul itself did not have to be taken in a huge battle.

On the 7th of August 1839, Shah Shuja entered Kabul accompanied by British and Indian troops.

On the surface, Britain had achieved exactly what it had wanted.

Dost Mohammad had been driven from power.

Shah Shuja had been restored.

And Kabul had fallen into British hands.

It must have seemed as though the war had been won remarkably quickly.

But there was a much bigger problem.

Shah Shuja's return depended heavily upon foreign troops, and many Afghans did not accept him as their legitimate ruler.

British forces also remained in Afghanistan to keep him in power.

So although the invasion had succeeded militarily, resentment was beginning to grow under the surface.

The British had managed to take Kabul.

Keeping control of it would be far more difficult.

And within only a few years, this apparently successful campaign would end in one of the most infamous disasters in British military history.

In Part Three, we will look at what happened when anger towards Shah Shuja and the British presence in Kabul began to turn into open rebellion.

Do you think Britain made the mistake of assuming that capturing Kabul meant Afghanistan had been conquered?

 

Image info:

Collection: UK National Army Museum

Date: 1839

Artist: W Taylor

 

Géza Ottlik: The Hungarian Writer Who Hid a Jewish Friend When the Arrow Cross Came Looking

Géza Ottlik: The Hungarian Writer Who Hid a Jewish Friend When the Arrow Cross Came Looking

What would you do if armed men entered your home looking for the person you were secretly protecting?

Today I want to find out a little about Géza Ottlik, a Hungarian writer, mathematician and translator who risked his safety to protect a Jewish friend during the Holocaust.

Géza was born in Budapest on the 9th of May 1912. Alongside his literary career, he became a respected bridge theorist and later translated works by writers including Charles Dickens and George Bernard Shaw.

But during the final months of the Second World War, Géza and his wife, Gyöngyi Debreczeni, showed extraordinary courage.

From October 1944, they secretly sheltered Jewish writer István Vas in their Budapest apartment, sharing their limited food with him.

When Arrow Cross members came to the apartment after being told that a Jewish person was hiding there, Gyöngyi kept her nerve and confronted them. Remarkably, they left without discovering Vas. 

The Arrow Cross Party was a Hungarian fascist and violently antisemitic movement that seized power in October 1944. Its members worked closely with the German authorities and became notorious for persecuting, deporting and murdering Jewish people, particularly in Budapest. For anyone hiding a Jewish person, discovery by the Arrow Cross could have been deadly.

Géza also intervened when Vas’s mother was arrested, helping to secure her release.

Vas survived the war.

In 1989, Géza and Gyöngyi were recognised by Yad Vashem as Righteous Among the Nations.

Margaret of Bavaria: The Duchess Who Governed Burgundy During John the Fearless’s Absences

Margaret of Bavaria: The Duchess Who Governed Burgundy During John the Fearless’s Absences

We have recently been finding out about some of the people connected to John the Fearless, Duke of Burgundy, so today I want to find out a little about his wife, Margaret of Bavaria.

Margaret was born in 1363 and was the daughter of Albert I, Duke of Bavaria-Straubing and Count of Hainault, Holland and Zeeland and Margaret of Brieg.

In April 1385, Margaret married John, then Count of Nevers, at Cambrai. Their marriage formed part of an important double wedding between the Burgundian and Bavarian families. At the same time, Margaret’s brother William married John’s sister, Margaret of Burgundy.

When John’s father, Philip the Bold, died in 1404, John became Duke of Burgundy and Margaret became Duchess of Burgundy.

Margaret was far more than simply the duke’s wife. John spent considerable periods away from Burgundy because of his involvement in French politics.

 Margaret increasingly took responsibility for affairs in his territories, and in 1409 she was formally appointed his deputy in Burgundy, allowing her to govern there during his absences. She therefore played an important role in maintaining Burgundian authority while her husband concentrated on events elsewhere.

Margaret and John had several children who would go on to form important political marriages across Europe. Their only surviving son was Philip the Good, who later became one of the most powerful dukes of Burgundy. Their daughters included Anne of Burgundy, who married John, Duke of Bedford, and Agnes, who married Charles I, Duke of Bourbon.

In 1419, Margaret’s life changed dramatically when John the Fearless was killed during a meeting with the future Charles VII of France at Montereau.

Their son Philip succeeded him as Duke of Burgundy, but Margaret continued to play a political role. Philip confirmed her authority to govern Burgundy during his absences, and she acted as regent until 1423.

Margaret died in Dijon on the 23rd of January 1424, having lived through one of the most turbulent periods in Burgundian and French history.

Image info:
Date: 16tg century
Collection: Hospice Comtesse

Would You Have Risked Everything to Save a Stranger?

Would You Have Risked Everything to Save a Stranger?

If you enjoy history with heart, courage, remarkable people and the occasional moment that makes you wonder, “Would I have been brave enough to do that?” then this little booklet may be for you.

It brings together the true stories of men and women who risked their safety, careers and sometimes their lives to help Jewish people during the Holocaust.

Some were diplomats, nurses or clergy. Others were just ordinary people who were faced with an extraordinary choice.

It is an easy, thoughtful read filled with humanity, bravery and stories worth remembering, ideally enjoyed with a cuppa nearby.

My book is available now.

Available https://a.co/d/0eQoxXLO

María Edwards: The Chilean Woman Who Helped to Save Jewish Children in the Second World War.

María Edwards: The Chilean Woman Who Helped to Save Jewish Children in the Second World War.

Today I am going to find out a little bit about María Edwards. She was a Chilean-born woman who became involved with the French Resistance and helped to save Jewish children during the German occupation of Paris.

María Edwards McClure was born in Santiago in Chile, on the 11th of December 1893. She was the youngest of nine children and came from a prominent Catholic family.

In 1913, María married Chilean diplomat Guillermo Errázuriz Vergara. His career took the couple to Europe, and in 1917 their daughter, María Angélica, was born in England. The family later moved to Paris.

Sadly in 1922 Guillermo died and María went on to marry the French writer Jacques Feydeau, although the marriage was short-lived.

When the Germans occupied Paris in the Second World War, María volunteered as a nurse at the Rothschild Hospital. The hospital treated many Jewish patients, including children whose families were being targeted.

María became involved with a resistance network operating around the hospital. She helped Jewish children who had been separated from their parents and were in danger of being deported. Working with others, she helped to arrange their escape and concealment, placing herself at considerable risk.

María was eventually brought to the attention of the German authorities. She was arrested and interrogated, but she continued to risk her life through her resistance work.

After the liberation of France, her courage was recognised. In 1953, she was awarded the French Legion of Honour.

María eventually returned to Chile in 1960. She died in Santiago on the 8th of June 1972, at the age of 78.

More than thirty years after her death, Yad Vashem recognised María Edwards as Righteous Among the Nations in 2005 for the part she played in helping Jewish children survive the Holocaust.

 

Image info:

Artist: William Orpen

Date: 1915

Collection: Mildura Arts Centre

 

Henry Courtenay: The Royal Cousin Caught in the Exeter Conspiracy

Henry Courtenay: The Royal Cousin Caught in the Exeter Conspiracy

We have been finding out about some of the people who were connected to Reginald Pole. Today I want to find out a little about Henry Courtenay, 1st Marquess of Exeter, a close relative of Pole and King Henry VIII.

Image info:

Garter Knights in the Black Book of the Garter

Date: 1535

Collection: Royal Collection, Windsor Castle

Courtnay is second from the left

Henry was born around 1498, the son of William Courtenay and Catherine of York, who was a daughter of King Edward IV. This made him a grandson of Edward IV and a first cousin of Henry VIII.

He was also related to Reginald Pole. Henry’s mother, Catherine of York, and Reginald’s mother, Margaret Pole, were first cousins, making Henry and Reginald second cousins.

For many years, Henry Courtenay had a close relationship with Henry VIII. He accompanied the king to the Field of the Cloth of Gold in 1520, became a Knight of the Garter and in 1525 was created Marquess of Exeter.

He initially supported Henry’s policies and was even involved in proceedings against Catherine of Aragon and the trial of Anne Boleyn.

However, by the late 1530s his position had become increasingly dangerous. His wife, Gertrude, remained Catholic, while Courtenay became increasingly opposed to Thomas Cromwell and the religious changes that were taking place in England.

Most dangerously, Courtenay was in correspondence with his relative Cardinal Reginald Pole, who had become one of Henry VIII’s most outspoken opponents.

In 1538, investigations began into what became known as the Exeter Conspiracy. Courtenay and members of the Pole family were accused of being involved in a Catholic conspiracy against Henry VIII.

Whether there was actually a carefully organised plot still remains debated.

Henry was arrested in November 1538 and was found guilty of treason.

On the 9th of December 1538, Henry Courtenay was executed on Tower Hill.

He had been one of Henry VIII’s closest companions. But his royal blood, religious connections and association with Reginald Pole ultimately helped make him a target.

Why Britain Invaded Afghanistan in 1839: The Fear of Russia That Led to War- Part One

Why Britain Invaded Afghanistan in 1839: The Fear of Russia That Led to War- Part One

Why would Britain send an army deep into Afghanistan when the country itself posed no direct threat to British territory?

image info:

Entrance to the Bolan Pass from DadurArmy of the Indus used the Bolan Pass during the 1839 invasion of Afghanistan.

Today I want to start a new series looking at the First Anglo-Afghan War, one of the most disastrous conflicts of the Victorian era. Over the next few weeks, I want to look at why Britain became involved in Afghanistan, how the campaign initially seemed to succeed, and how events eventually led to the terrible retreat from Kabul.

To understand why British troops went into Afghanistan in 1839, we need to look beyond Afghanistan.

Much of India was controlled by the British East India Company. India was enormously important to British trade, wealth and influence, and British officials were constantly worried about anything that might threaten their position there.

One of their greatest fears was Russia.

During the early 19th century, the Russian Empire was expanding south through Central Asia. British politicians and military officials were becoming increasingly concerned that Russian influence might eventually reach Afghanistan and that it may even threaten British-controlled India.

This rivalry between Britain and Russia later became known as the Great Game.

Afghanistan was situated between the Russian Empire in the north and British India to the south-east, which made it hugely important.

At the time, Dost Mohammad Khan was the most powerful ruler in Afghanistan and controlled Kabul.

Afghanistan had been divided by years of rivalry following the decline of the Durrani Empire. Dost Mohammad had gradually emerged from these struggles and took control of Kabul in 1826. But he faced serious problems of his own.

One of the most important concerned the city of Peshawar.

Peshawar had previously been under Afghan control but had been captured by the Sikh Empire, ruled by Maharaja Ranjit Singh. Dost Mohammad wanted British help to recover the city.

The British, however, had already developed an important relationship with Ranjit Singh and were unwilling to support an Afghan attack against him.

So Dost Mohammad started looking elsewhere for help.

In 1837, a Russian representative, Captain Ivan Vitkevich, arrived in Kabul. To British officials, his presence appeared to confirm their fears that Russia was attempting to gain influence over Afghanistan.

Britain also had its own representative in Kabul, Alexander Burnes.

Burnes had been sent to negotiate with Dost Mohammad and explore the possibility of strengthening relations between Afghanistan and British India.

Dost Mohammad was willing to cooperate, but he again raised the question of Peshawar.

British officials refused to support his claim.

With negotiations failing and a Russian representative also present in Kabul, the British government in India increasingly began to view Dost Mohammad as unreliable.

At around the same time, Persia, with Russian support, was besieging the Afghan city of Herat. To British officials, this made the threat appear even more serious and increased their fears that Russian influence could spread closer to India.

Instead, they decided to support another man.

Shah Shuja Durrani had once ruled Afghanistan but had been driven from power many years before. He was living in exile under British protection.

British officials believed that if Shah Shuja could be restored to the Afghan throne, he would become a friendly ruler who could help prevent Russian influence from spreading towards India.

In October 1838, the Governor-General of India, Lord Auckland, issued what became known as the Simla Manifesto.

It attempted to justify British intervention in Afghanistan and presented the restoration of Shah Shuja as necessary for the security of British India.

An agreement had already been made between the British, Shah Shuja and Ranjit Singh.

The plan was now clear.

Dost Mohammad would be removed.

Shah Shuja would be restored.

And Afghanistan would, British officials hoped, become a reliable barrier between Russian expansion and British India.

Late in 1838, a large force known as the Army of the Indus began preparing to advance into Afghanistan.

At first, British leaders expected the campaign to be relatively straightforward.

Instead, their decision to interfere in Afghan politics would begin a chain of events that ended in one of the most famous military disasters of the 19th century.

In Part Two, I want to look at how the British army entered Afghanistan and how Shah Shuja was placed back on the throne.