which he described his adventures, not without due mention of Lake and Cortlandt, and the Prince of Baháwalpur. In the spring of 1851 he returned to India, and on arrival found a new sphere of civil duty in the deputy-commissionership of the newly created British district of Jullunder (Jalandhar). In February 1853 he was transferred to Hazára, at the western foot of the Cashmere hills, leaving Jullunder with warm praise from his local chief, Donald McLeod, and expressions of regret from the people for whom he had worked nearly two years. McLeod, a trained administrator, selected from the civil service of the north-west provinces for the commissionership, was a man likely to judge soundly, and he reported that Edwardes was the best officer with whom he had ever come in contact.
In his new post a still harder task awaited Edwardes. The Hazára hills and valleys had been ruled by James Abbott, one of the most memorable of the singular group of men who served in the Punjab at that period. He was what H. Lawrence called 'a true knight-errant,' always known among the wild highlanders of Hazára as 'uncle,' and the man who, as Edwardes wrote, had brought the district 'from utter desolation to a smiling prosperity.' Edwardes only remained long enough to found a central cantonment, which he named 'Abbottábád,' in honour of his predecessor, and then, in the month of October, removed to Peshawur, promoted to the difficult and dangerous post of commissioner in succession to the murdered Mackeson. 'In the whole range of Indian charges,' so wrote the governor-general, Dalhousie, in privately informing Edwardes of his appointment, 'I know none which is more arduous than the commissionership of Peshawur.... You hold the outpost of Indian empire. Your past career and your personal qualities and abilities give me assurance that I have chosen well.' For the commissioner in the trans-Indus was far more than a mere prefect. In him, besides the ordinary duties of a commissioner of division, were vested the control of the lawless mountaineers who had bidden defiance to the Moghul emperors in their day of power. And to this were further added the political relations of the British government with the amir of Afghanistán, who was still smarting from past injuries, and whose territories marched with the division for sixty rough miles.
In the discharge of the political part of his duties at Peshawur Edwardes was led to suggest to the government the propriety of a treaty with the amir, and Dalhousie was prepared to give him a free hand for the purpose. But Sir John Lawrence was the chief at Lahore, and his mind was never one that jumped at novelties. On his hesitation becoming known in Calcutta the governor-general proposed that Edwardes, while conducting the negotiations with the court of Cabul, should correspond with himself, directly and without the correspondence being transmitted, as routine and propriety alike required, through the office of the chief. Edwardes declined to avail himself of this flattering irregularity; the letters were duly sent backwards and forwards through Lawrence's office, and there can be little doubt that both the arbitrary ruler at Calcutta and the ardent representative at Peshawur lived to see the benefit of the cautious intermediary. A strict non-interference clause was ultimately introduced into the agreement, and the amir. Dost Muhamad, remained faithful to its engagements under all subsequent trials. Lawrence came, years after, to be himself governor-general, and the policy of non-intervention was continued, only to be once interrupted, down to the days of Lord Dufferin. The circumstances are equally creditable to Lawrence and to Edwardes, and did not serve to ruffle for a moment the friendliness of their mutual relations. 'All the merit of the affair,' so Lawrence wrote to Edwardes, 'whatever it may be, is yours.'
Edwardes was entirely at one with Lawrence as to the question of frontier defence. When the treaty had been concluded, Edwardes wrote to a friend: 'After the doubts and lessons of the [past] ... I have myself arrived at the conclusion that our true military position is on our own side of the passes, just where an army must debouch upon the plain.' From this conclusion he never afterwards deviated. He remained convinced that the best protection of British Indian interests on the frontier was 'a strong, independent, and friendly Afghanistan,' and that there was a distinct feeling among the people of that country 'that the Russians are not as trustworthy as the English.' But he held this conviction without any ill-temper towards Russia, believing that the British government should come to as friendly an understanding as possible with that of the czar. In 1856 the Afghan ruler came down to Peshawur on Edwardes's suggestion, and there executed a supplementary treaty in view of approaching hostilities between the Indian government and the shah of Persia. Shortly after came the great revolt in Upper India, and Edwardes's foresight in helping to make a friend of Dost Muhamad was abundantly justified; all through the revolt of the sepoy army the Afghans remained silent, and even
