welcome.
"The war," declared His Excellency (who had received an earldom) in an
official despatch, "is all over." Unfortunately, however, it was all
over Afghanistan, with the result that there had to be another
campaign in the following year. This time, not even Lord Auckland's
imagination could call it "successful."

"There will be a great deal of prize money," was the complacent
fashion in which Miss Eden summed up the situation. "Another man has
been put on the Khelat throne, so that business is finished." But it
was not finished. It was only just beginning. "Within six months,"
says Edward Thompson, "Khelat was recaptured by a son of the slain
Khan, Lord Auckland's puppet ejected, and the English commander of the
garrison murdered."

Although the expedition that followed was the subject of a highly
eulogistic despatch from the Commander-in-Chief and the big-wigs at
headquarters, a number of "regrettable incidents" were officially
admitted. As a result, a regiment of Light Cavalry was disbanded, "as
a punishment for poltroonery in the hour of trial and the dastards
struck off the Army List."

Later on, when Lord Ellenborough was Governor-General, a bombastic
memorandum, addressed "To all the Princes and Chiefs and People of
India," was issued by him:

"Our victorious army bears the gates of the Temple of Somnauth in
triumph from Afghanistan, and the despoiled tomb of Sultan Mahmood
looks down upon the ruins of Ghuznee. The insult of 800 years is at
last avenged!

"To you I shall commit this glorious trophy of successful war. You
will yourselves with all honour transmit the gates of sandalwood to
the restored Temple of Somnauth.

"May that good Providence, which has hitherto so manifestly protected
me, still extend to me its favour, that I may so use the power
entrusted to my hands to advance your prosperity and happiness by
placing the union of our two countries upon foundations that may
render it eternal."

There was a good deal more in a similar style, for his lordship loved
composing florid despatches. But this one had a bad reception when it
was sent home to England. "At this puerile piece of business," says
the plain spoken Stocqueler, "the commonsense of the British community
at large revolted. The ministers of religion protested against it as a
most unpardonable homage to an idolatrous temple. Ridiculed by the
Press of India and England, and laughed at by the members of his own
party in Parliament,