those gusts of wild rage, to which his fiery nature was prone, had driven him to slay the man whose life, a moment later, he would have given much to preserve. Be that as it may, there remains the undoubted fact that Macnaghten paid by a violent death the penalty of his rash attempt to fight the Afgháns with their own weapons of deceit and double-dealing. While still professing his intention to carry out a treaty which had been broken as much by our delays as by Afghán shiftiness, he had sought to detach, first the Ghilzai chiefs, and then Muhammad Akbar, from an engagement made with the whole confederacy. Lawrence, Mackenzie, and others who knew him best, could find no other excuse for their friend's shortcoming than the fact that 'two months of incessant fatigue of mind and body, and the load of care which had during that time weighed him down, had at last completely unhinged his strong mind[1].'
The murder of our Envoy and the seizure of his companions took place within a few hundred yards of an intrenchment occupied by 4.500 British troops. His native escort had fled back on the first alarm. Several officers had witnessed the attack, and one at least had seen the murderers hacking at the Envoy's corpse. There was much excitement in the garrison, and one poor lady, the Envoy's widow, who had an instinctive dread of Afghán treachery, remained all day in agonized suspense. But not a hand was raised to rescue the supposed captives or to avenge their
- ↑ Captain Mackenzie's Statement, quoted by Kaye, vol. ii.
