Chapter VIII
The Line of Communication with the Kurram Valley—Hostile Action of the Tribes—Skirmish on the Surkhai Kotal—Defeat of the Tribesmen by the Shutargardan Garrison—The Enemy Reinforced—The Garrison Surrounded—Serious Complications—The Shutargardan relieved by General Charles Gough.
CAMP SIAH SUNG, 24th October.
There is one great consolation for the troops who did not share in the advance upon Cabul, and that is, they have not been allowed by the tribes in our rear to rest in peace at the stations guarding the Kurram line of communication. General Gordon at Ali Kheyl, and Colonel Money at the Shutargardan, have had their hands very full indeed during the past few weeks; Mangals, Ghilzais, and their allies considering it a grand opportunity for attack. The bulk of our army was too far ahead, and had too important a mission to fulfil, to send back reinforcements; and no doubt these mongrel tribesmen believed they would have it all their own way. I hear that they called upon the Shinwaris and Khugianis on the northern slopes of the Safed Koh to come over and join in the rare chance that was presented of cutting up our troops; but the ill-timed zeal of the Mangal moollahs spoiled the whole arrangement. They gave out that we had been defeated at Cabul, and further promised their fanatical followers that bullets and bayonets should leave them unscathed for a few days if they would only attack the handful of infidels then left at their mercy. Accordingly Ali Kheyl was attacked, and the result of the fighting in that neighbourhood was the complete dispersal of the tribesmen. At one time the situation seemed so full of peril that General Gordon made up his mind to abandon the Shutargardan, Colonel Money having informed him that he was surrounded on all sides, his forage cut off, and his water-supply threatened. Such a step would, of course, have only been resorted to in the last extremity, for a force retiring through the Hazara Darukht defile, followed by swarms of our enemy, confident that their success was assured, might have ended in a disaster. But there were at the Shutargardan two splendid fighting regiments, well-officered and in perfect trim, and their stubborn resistance, kept the enemy in check until it was too late for them to profit by our difficulties. During the worst period at the Shutargardan, General Hugh Gough, with the 5th Punjab Cavalry, 5th Punjab Infantry, and four mountain guns was on his way thither to bring down supplies and close the communication, as it was no longer needed; and a welcome flash from Captain Straton’s heliograph informed Colonel Money that help was at hand. The Mangals and their allies seem to have had earlier information, for they had already begun to disperse, though their stray shots into camp kept the garrison alive, and cost them something in the way of chargers and baggage animals. The abandonment of the post in the face of an enemy far superior in number was thus happily avoided, as well as the ill-effect it would have had upon every tribesman from Thull to Cabul. It is believed here that there was a tendency to exaggerate the danger at Ali Kheyl, and that undue importance was attached to the attack there; but we are loth to think that General Gordon would have recalled the two regiments from the Shutargardan merely to strengthen his own post. Such a step might have brought about a really serious conflict, as it would have been too glaring an admission of weakness not to have been appreciated by the neighbouring tribes. Of the earlier fighting at the Surkhai Kotal on the 14th, we have now full accounts from Colonel Money, which I give below.
On the 13th instant information was brought into the camp at Shutargardan that the Machalgu Ghilzais were assembling in force, and would probably appear near Karatiga and the Surkhai Kotal, on that side, for the purpose of blocking up the road to Ali Kheyl and molesting our picquet on the Kotal. That mischief was on foot was proved by the telegraph wire to Ali Kheyl being cut at nine o’clock the same evening. The next morning Colonel Money, in sending the usual relief of 90 men to the picquet, ordered Major Collis, commanding the 21st P.N.I., to take two companies of his regiment and two guns of the Kohat Mountain Battery, and see what was occurring. He was further to attack and disperse any bodies of tribesmen who might have assembled, to detach a party to bring up ammunition left at Karatiga, and to repair the telegraph wire. On arriving at the Kotal, Major Collis found the picquet already engaged with a large body of Ghilzais, who had attacked at daybreak. His first step was to seize a hill on the right commanding the Kotal, which the enemy had failed to occupy. Fifty sepoys under a native officer were soon swarming up this, and in the meantime Captain Morgan opened fire with the mountain guns upon sungars filled with men, on a hill to the east. The shells were well pitched, and the enemy were so shaken that when 50 rifles of the 21st P.N.I., under Captain Gowan, and a similar number of the 3rd Sikhs under Lieutenant Fasken, went in at them with the bayonet, they abandoned their sungars, leaving several killed and wounded on the ground. The tribesmen then attacked on the south of the position, and came under fire of the 50 men first sent up to occupy the hill, commanding the Kotal. A company of the 21st P.N.I., under Lieutenant Young, was detached to strengthen this point, and at the same time a welcome reinforcement of 100 of the 3rd Sikhs under Major Griffiths arrived. One company of these doubled over the open, and got in rear of 600 of the enemy whom Captain Gowan and Lieutenant Fasken were driving back, and soon the hills to the north were all cleared. But on the south there were still 2,000 men to be dealt with; and as they were showing a bold front, Major Griffiths judged that a combined movement must be made against them as soon as the two companies returned from pursuing the 600 men they had scattered. The advanced company of the 21st P.N.I. under Lieutenant Young was bearing the brunt of the enemy’s fire, and Major Collis was left on the Kotal with instructions to proceed to their relief along the crest with his two companies when they returned, their right being protected by 100 of the 3rd Sikhs and two guns. Major Griffiths took the guns to the 3rd Sikhs, but on rounding the shoulder of the hill he found that it would be dangerous to wait any longer, as the enemy were growing bolder every minute. The company of the 21st P.N.I. under Lieutenant Young accordingly charged along the ridge and captured two standards, while the 3rd Sikhs under Lieutenant Cook (with whom as volunteers were Captain Turner, Political Officer; Captain Waterfield, R.A.; Captain Nicholson, R.E.; Lieutenant Fisher, 10th Hussars; Lieutenant Sherstone, Aide-de-camp; and Mr. Josephs, Superintendent of Telegraphs) came to close quarters on the slope below. The enemy retreated till they reached a spur running at right-angles to the ridge on which they had raised more strong sungars. The sepoys soon found themselves checked in their rush, the 21st getting into broken ground commanded by the main sungar, while the Sikhs had to halt at a ravine, the opposite side of which was bare of cover and swept by the fire of the Ghazis. Captain Waterfield, having shot down a man with his revolver, was himself shot through the thigh directly afterwards, and was pluckily removed out of danger by Lieutenant Cook. The mountain guns were brought into action again over the heads of the troops, as Major Collis was still waiting for his two companies to come up; but the enemy seeing so small a number of men opposed to them, charged out of the sungars, sword in hand, at Lieutenant Young’s company; and, though checked by a hot fire, secured a good position from which to repeat the manœuvre. Just in the nick of time Major Collis arrived with his two companies, and three shells having been dropped right into the enemy’s advanced position, he led the 20th straight at the sungars and cleared the ridge in fine style. The enemy fought most pluckily, hurling stones at our men as they went up to the sungars and leaping out to meet them; opposing their short swords to the sepoys’ bayonets. Their numbers were, however, of no avail against the splendid form of our gallant fellows, and after a short hand-to-hand struggle they broke and fled towards Spegha. They were pursued for over a mile, and the mountain guns harassed them still further. Their number was calculated at between 3,000 and 4,000, and they were beaten in fair fight by 150 of the 21st P.N.I. and 100 of the 3rd Sikhs, aided by two mountain guns. Forty of their dead were counted on the ground, and their total loss is estimated at 200 killed and wounded; while our casualties were only two killed and Captain Waterfield and seven sepoys wounded.
Meanwhile, a little affair had been going on at the Shutargardan itself. When Colonel Money had sent off Major Griffiths to reinforce the Surkhai Kotal, he took precautions for his own safety by ordering up two companies of the 21st P.N.I. with a mountain gun to the ridge which overlooks the Shutargardan camp. The move was a wise one, for the enemy were on the other side within fifty yards of the crest, and were only driven back with difficulty. They gathered together again and made a second attempt, but were again unsuccessful. Their persistency induced Colonel Money to proceed with two companies of the 3rd Sikhs and the fourth mountain gun to the ridge, and he was able from this point to watch the fight at the Surkhai Kotal. Seeing that Major Griffiths was hotly engaged, he sent Jemadar Sher Mahomed (the native officer who did such gallant work at Karatiga on the 27th of September) with a company of the 3rd Sikhs to make a diversion on the enemy’s flank, and when the tribesmen fled, this party doubled down upon them, and after killing eight and wounding several others, joined in the general chase.
It was altogether a brilliant skirmish, this defeat of so large a body of the enemy at the Surkhai Kotal; and we hope to give the 3rd Sikhs an ovation when they march in here with General Hugh Gough in a few days. The 21st move back to Ali Kheyl.
The garrison had, after the skirmish, to hear a siege which came about in this way:—On the morning of the 14th it was found that the main body of the enemy still held the position they had taken up after being driven off the Surkhai Kotal. A wing of the 21st Punjab Native Infantry was sent with orders to attack if they moved towards the Kotal, and a company of the 3rd Sikhs went to the Karatiga Fort to bring up the stores and ammunition left there. The fort was found to have been thoroughly looted. Allahaddin, a brother of Padshah Khan, the Ghilzai chief, reported that the enemy had been largely reinforced, and said from 10,000 to 17,000 men had assembled, the whole country being in arms. Colonel Money therefore wisely resolved to draw in his defences under cover of night. The Surkhai Kotal was abandoned on the 15th. News of 300 or 400 regular soldiers of the Amir’s army, armed with Sniders and Enfields, joining the tribes was given soon afterwards. The enemy showed in such numbers southwards of the ridge and to the south of the camp that the outlying picquet was withdrawn and fell back upon the strong picquet posts near the camp. On the 17th the enemy occupied the road from Karatiga to Kassim Kheyl, and cut off the grass-supply. Their numbers were so great that reasonable anxiety was felt about an attack, so our men worked at strengthening the defences, and Captain Nicholson, R.E., laid down wire entanglements at weak points to check any rush. In the evening Allahaddin brought in the jirgah who proposed some absurd terms of surrender,[21] but they were sent back with a hint to go to Cabul and settle terms there. The garrison had only regimental ammunition with them, and this had been greatly reduced by the action of the 14th. The mountain guns also having a small number of rounds, Colonel Money resolved to husband his ammunition and act on the defensive, as he did not know when he might be relieved. On the 18th the enemy showed in still greater force, and pushed to within 300 yards of our outpost picquets, and cut off the water supply. On both the 17th and 18th, they had kept up a incessant fire into the camp, but with little result. On the 19th, when matters looked very serious, the heliograph was seen flashing at Kushi, and Colonel Money learnt that General Hugh Gough was there with two regiments and four guns. Upon this he knew he was safe, and after sending skirmishers down towards the springs on the Kushi Road he got his guns into action and shelled the enemy’s line with common shell and shrapnel right heartily. The shells soon silenced the opposition musketry fire, and the tribesmen gradually drew off, not a man being left at evening. Their loss is estimated at 100 killed and wounded. Our casualties were seven men wounded. The enemy had brought 200 of their women to witness the final successful attack, but they were all disappointed. General Gough occupied the Shinkai Kotal on the evening of the 19th and reached the Shutargardan next day in a snow-storm. His arrival was the signal for the dispersion of all tribes.
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Footnote 21:
An officer wrote at the time:—“In the evening the enemy sent in five confidential men to say that, of course, we must now give in, that two regiments could not hold out an hour, but they were willing to allow us to leave the Shutargardan and to provide us with carriages and hostages; we to be at liberty to retire to Ali Kheyl or to Cabul, and for this consideration we were to pay them two lakhs. Poor Allahaddin Khan was at his wits’ end.”
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Chapter IX
Camp Life at Cabul—Afghan Costermongers—Curiosity of Villagers—The Hazaras—Surrender of Firearms—City Traders—The Purchase of Transport Animals—Peaceful State of the Country—The Abdication of the Amir—His Reasons for the Step—Assumption of the Government by the British—General Roberts’s Proclamation—Arrest of the Amir—Progress of the Inquiry into the Massacre—The Murder of Abdul Karim—Military Executions-Seizure of Treasure.
CAMP SIAH SUNG, 25th October.
Our lines are cast in pleasant places just at present; for, apart from the political puzzle which some of us study, and which I have already tried to explain, there is nothing to disturb our equanimity. We have a high and dry encamping ground, from which we can travel down at our leisure, either citywards, to explore the mysteries of Cabul and ponder over the Bala Hissar, now rapidly being cleared out; or else down into the Cabul plain, to exercise our horses on the racecourse, or over the water-channels which everywhere intersect the fields. The view on every side is an impressive one, for the mountains which keep watch and ward over Cabul are very picturesque, rising abruptly from the fields below, and seeming to shut us out securely from the petty world beyond. News of that outer world has been very scant of late, and it is with ill-concealed impatience that many of us turn eastward to where the Khurd Cabul and Jugdulluck Hills hide the long valley up which the Khyber column is crawling with tortoise-slowness. There comes no heliographic flash down to cheer us, and one might as well consult the impassible Hindu Kush itself. But there is a pleasanter outlook westwards. Through the gorge in rear of the city we catch a glimpse of the Chardeh Valley, a very Eden of fertility, and in the far background is the high range of mountains forming the sky-line towards distant Turkistan, over which we have gorgeous sunsets that more than atone for the chilliness which creeps over Siah Sung Ridge as the day closes. We have the sharp air of the early morning to brace us for routine work that must be gone through, and such genial warmth all day as to make the shade of our tight little tents seem almost superfluous. Whatever of cold and discomfort there may be in store for us, we are comfortable enough now, though perhaps the air bites shrewdly at mid-night to the sentry at his post. His outlook is chiefly for thieves who may think there is loot to be got in our camp; but we seem to have frightened the people into honesty, for robberies are unknown. Our camp is thronged with petty traders, and in convenient spots are little bazaars for our soldiers and camp-followers, to whom they are a rare boon. Fruit in abundance is exposed most temptingly: grapes, apples, pears, and pomegranates being sold so cheaply that a few pice will buy sufficient to satisfy even a soldier’s appetite; while melons of a flavour and succulency almost unknown to us poor dwellers in Hindustan are piled together in profusion. The usual curry-stuffs and native delicacies are ranged alongside these edibles; and occasionally some delicious beetroot or a gigantic cabbage nestling in a heap of bright-skinned onions tempts a khansamah doing his day’s marketing to halt and haggle in a lordly manner until a fair bargain is struck. The Afghan “coster” is not an easy personage to deal with, for he has learnt the value of our rupees, and is determined to make the most of the present opportunity. In our canvas streets there is all day long a busy stream of men and boys eagerly selling wares from the city and surrounding villages, and if so inclined we could spend hours in making casual purchases. In the early morning villagers with their simple produce of fowls, ducks, pigeons, eggs, jars of milk and clotted cream—the latter particularly good—come sauntering in and pass away their time in intently gazing at our strange freaks in the way of early “tubs” or substantial breakfasts. Their livestock slung across their shoulders, or carelessly carried head downwards, appears quite a secondary consideration, until they are pounced upon by some bon-vivant, who thinks life is not worth living if it is merely to be sustained by commissariat rations—now, alas! minus their redeeming feature of wholesome rum. Once the villager sees a bargain may be made, he wakes up suddenly to the fact of having something to sell, and in the patois of the country explains the number of rupees or annas he requires. That he does not get them need scarcely be said, as his first prices are exorbitant; but after some pantomimic action, or by calling in the aid of some Pathan sepoy near at hand, terms are arranged, and with the silver bits stowed away mysteriously in his waistcloth the innocent native wends his way to another part of the camp, there to dispose of more of his stock. When he has got rid of his little store he does not, as a conscientious husbandman should, go quietly home, but hangs about our tents with a face full of inquiry and amazement. He pushes his curiosity at times almost to impertinence, perhaps with the philanthropic idea of giving us a few wrinkles as to the proper mode of living in this part of the world; but at the first sharp word he “moves on” a few paces, and turns his attention to some other feature of our local life. That he is poor and strictly dishonest there can be no reasonable doubt; but his poverty will pass away if we stay long at Cabul, and his dishonesty will be covered with the cloak of simplicity as long as military law prevails. This class of peasant who comes into our midst is not of the usual bloodthirsty Afghan type; and he comes too, without arms, for our proclamation against carrying weapons is now widely known, and whatever he may be on his native heath, when his tribe is on the war-path, he looks inoffensive enough now.
Among our other visitors are the Hazaras: the hewers of wood and drawers of water, as they have been called, of all Afghanistan. Their Mongol type of face, beardless and with the true slanting eyes of their race, is noticeable at once among the Jewish-looking Afghans whom they serve so well. Sunburnt, and with many coats of dirt upon them, they look the real labourers of the land; and as their stalwart backs are generally bent under heavy loads of firewood or huge sacks of forage, it can be seen they are no drones. They are always very intent upon their work, never loitering or wonder-struck; and in this respect they resemble the Ghoorkas. They are good-humoured and happy enough, and any stray salutation cast to them is always answered by a smile and a nod of their felt-crowned heads, as if kindness were too rare not to be acknowledged. Sometimes their burdens are very different from those just mentioned, for they come staggering in with a score of matchlocks or Enfield rifles on their backs which their village maliks have sent in to be bought up and destroyed by the Sirkar. This bringing in of arms has been quite a feature of camp life, it being by no means unusual to meet a file of these men, each laden with the guns that are to be given up. They are thrown down, and counted by soldiers told off for the duty, and the idlers from the city gather round to stare at our contemptuous examination of the weapons. As most of the guns are loaded and even doubled-loaded, it is somewhat risky to meddle with them; but curiosity prompts us to look down muzzles and cock triggers in a most reckless way. The Sniders are safe enough to handle, as the breech can be opened and any cartridge withdrawn; but with the others it is different. Tower-marked Enfields rest side by side with the old two-grooved Brunswick rifle; while Cabul-made smooth-bores and imitation Enfields are mixed with jhezails and the “Brown Besses” the Indian Government gave away so lavishly in the days of their foolishness. We are destroying these arms—locks, stock, and barrel—except in the case of such Sniders as seem really serviceable. The Afghan Snider is by no means a badly-made weapon, and the cartridges from the Bala Hissar Arsenal are equally good. The latter are of a kind known as solid-drawn, with strong bases, and if recapped can be used several times with perfect safety. Where machinery and skilled mechanics are scarce, this is, of course, a great consideration. We do not find many cartridges delivered up, and it seems a pity that a small price was not fixed upon powder and lead so as to make disarmament more complete. There are thousands of good rifles still scattered over the country, in the hands of the Amir’s soldiers; and, in the future, ammunition will be greatly in request, now that the Bala Hissar has fallen into our hands. A few swords, bayonets, and knives, have come in, but they are of no account. We have received over 3,000 rifles and guns of the different kinds mentioned, and more will, perhaps, be given up.
Far removed from the villagers and the Hazaras are the more pretentious city traders, who bring poshteens, furs, native cloth, chinaware, old coins, Bokhara silks, Persian carpets, jewellery, and precious stones for sale. They are mostly Kizilbashes and Cabul-born Hindus, many of whom have travelled far and have seen most of the cities of Central and Western Asia. As traders they are as keen as Jew pedlars: as visitors they make themselves as much at home as our intimate friends. To bargain with them is an exercise in chicanery that would quicken the wits of a Shylock: to listen to their soft flattery as they extol the benefits of British rule is to believe that we are the finest race in the world. The chicanery is glossed over and hidden by the soothing praises of our benevolence, and the crimson-turbaned Kizilbash or caste-marked Hindu, who has sat himself on our stool or squatted in our tent is enriched accordingly. We buy furs that would cost us less in Peshawur, and silks that, perhaps, have never seen a Bokhara loom, and think we have done well in our bargaining; whereas, most likely, the worthy traders have netted excessive profits. It is the old story of our rupees filling the coffers of the people we have come among as conquerors, and of our pride forbidding us to acknowledge it. And yet we enjoy the chaffering with these rascals, and find an amusement in making them turn out their pockets. From one will be produced a rare fox-skin, from another a Russian tea-cup and saucer (made in England, but stamped with the Moscow dealer’s name); from a third a little packet of diamonds or turquoises—the latter often of a beautiful colour, but marred by flaws. Then the rings on the man’s finger are taken off and examined, the owner fixing a price that is almost prohibitive on each stone; or a curiously-worked belt and pouch is unbuckled at our insistance, and appraised in the usual way. And so on to the end of the chapter. But Kizilbash or Hindu is more than a match for the Western Kafir; and one is tempted to believe that the Caucasian is really “played out” as far as astuteness in trading goes. Perhaps we may be more successful in dealing with the genuine Afghan in the city bazaars which we are now beginning to visit.
Besides the mercenary bartering that wiles away our leisure, there is plenty of stir and excitement in our camp life. Maliks and chiefs from a distance are met in little knots, seeking out the political officers, or waiting upon the commissariat officers to enter into contracts for food supply; gaily-apparalled horsemen come to show off the graces of their Turcoman steeds; while ragged urchins on yaboos, the strong ponies peculiar to the country, ride here and there in easy confidence, halting occasionally to exchange opinions on local affairs. Near the head-quarters of the 1st Brigade is quite a little horse-fair, where General Macpherson passes in review some hundreds of yaboos daily, and purchases largely for transport purposes. The noisy, chattering crowd is densest here, and the yaboo fights are numerous, each pony choosing his nearest neighbour as a fit object of attack. Near by is the Amir’s tent with its little cluster of attendants’ pals about it, and a sentry from a guard of Europeans stationed over them pacing smartly to and fro. At times a few prisoners with an escort of sepoys are marched past on their way to the tent in head-quarters, where the military commission sits which is to try them; or on “execution days” a company of Europeans swing past with one or two men in their midst, and take the path down the ridge to the Bala Hissar, where the gallows is waiting ready. On the circular bit of raised ground, at the western end of the head-quarters’ camp and overlooking the city, is a little party of signallers near a large brass field-piece captured at Sherpur, and now used as a time-gun. The heliograph flashes up in response to one on the Bala Hissar ridge, which is speaking to Kushi, and we know that news is travelling to and from the Shutargardan. In the evening one of the bands plays on this natural band-stand, around the flag-staff which is reared in the centre, and with the last strains of “God Save the Queen” our day closes, the flag is furled, and we pass into the warmth and comfort of our snug little tents. Beneath all this surface of visible camp-life is the steady current of routine work, which goes on unceasingly and smoothly, no outside influences acting as disturbing agents. Our men are healthy and contented; their wounded comrades are doing well; supplies are coming in abundantly; and, looking down upon Sherpur, we see that warm winter quarters are being got ready; so all, apart from political questions, is rose-coloured.
CAMP SIAH SUNG, 28th October.
This morning only did it become publicly known that Yakub Khan had abdicated the Amirship, the newspapers brought in by the mail from India giving all beyond General Roberts and his immediate advisers their first news of the occurrence. It was, of course, on account of possible mischief ensuing if the abdication were made known and the Government afterwards refused to accept it, that secrecy was observed regarding the Amir’s act; and, singularly enough, while people in India and England have been speculating as to the probable consequences of the step, we on the spot have been in happy ignorance of the under-current of events. The incidents of the abdication were as follows:—October 12th was the day appointed for the Proclamation in the Bala Hissar, at which the Amir had been ordered to attend. At six o’clock in the morning of that day he left his camp below the Siah Sung Ridge, and went with only two servants to Major Hastings, Chief Political Officer, and asked for an immediate interview with General Roberts. In a few minutes he was ushered into the General’s tent, and at his request a private interview was granted. Yakub Khan was greatly excited, and he abruptly announced his intention of resigning the Amirship. His life, he said, had become so miserable that he could no longer endure it. Sir F. Roberts at once asked him to consider what he was saying, as abdication was a very serious step. The Amir persisted in saying that his mind was made up; he had intended to resign at Kushi, but was persuaded by his Ministers not to do so. Now he would sooner be a grass-cutter in the British camp than remain Amir of Cabul. He earnestly wished that his resignation should be accepted; and, for himself, he was ready to go to India, London, Malta, or wherever the Viceroy should choose to send him. General Roberts again requested him to reconsider the matter, and placed a tent at his disposal near head-quarters. At ten o’clock, the hour fixed for falling in for the procession to the Bala Hissar, the Amir again visited the General, and announced that his decision was fixed: he wished to resign at once. Sir F. Roberts replied that he himself could not accept the resignation without having consulted the Viceroy, and he asked the Amir to let matters remain in statu quo until an answer could be received from Simla, the British authorities in the meantime carrying on the Government in the Amir’s name. Yakub Khan agreed to this without further parley, but asked permission to absent himself from the Bala Hissar that morning, as the excitement and trouble he had undergone had made him ill. He would order his eldest son and all the principal sirdars to attend and hear the Proclamation read. He was accordingly excused, and the same afternoon his tents and those of his personal attendants were moved to the head-quarters. He knew nothing of the contents of the Proclamation of October 12th, and was quite unaware of the intended arrest of his Ministers. Such were the circumstances attending his abdication.
Up to this afternoon it was believed that the ex-Amir was acting in good faith, but within the last few hours we have had reason to change our opinion. Since the entrance into the Bala Hissar, on October 12th, Yakub Khan has been living in a large tent close to head-quarters, and has had about him a little army of servants, whose tents also have been pitched about that of their master. He was reported to be much happier in his mind now that his scheming Ministers had been removed from about his person, and once or twice he had shown himself among us in the evening, walking with General Roberts up and down the row of tents in which the Staff are lodged, and listening with much delight to the band playing near. The restraint placed upon him after he had come voluntarily into our camp from among his own people on the lower slope of the Ridge, was merely that a guard of twenty European soldiers was stationed over his tents, while two sentries paced before them night and day. This was his “guard of honour” nominally, though if he had tried to escape they would instantly have become his gaolers. It was most important that we should have him with us while we were examining into the guilt of the various persons concerned in the Massacre; for if once he had been a free agent, he would probably have been made an instrument of intrigue by such men as the Mustaufi and the Wazir. This was proved by the episode of Nek Mahomed’s visit to him at Charasia the day before the action of the 6th, the commander-in-chief of the rebel army returning to Cabul and proclaiming that the Amir had ordered all men to resist the British force. Thus was there every reason to keep him under fairly close surveillance, as the scattered units of his disbanded army are still capable of doing harm if once gathered together. In my letter of the 23rd I pointed out very fully the anomalous position we were occupying here: proclaiming the Amir’s authority on the one hand, and appropriating all his stores and munitions of war on the other. This was, of course, written without knowledge of what had occurred on the 12th; and, viewed in the new light that has now scattered the political darkness here, the anomaly at once vanishes. Yakub Khan had voluntarily cast away all power and responsibility, and the only course remaining for Sir F. Roberts was to assume the discarded authority and take every means to secure order in Cabul. The clearing out of the Bala Hissar and the appropriation of all that it contained, except Yakub Khan’s personal property, now stands out as merely an ordinary taking over of effects surrendered to us, and not the spoliation of a sovereign whose authority we were re-establishing. We could not, in fact, have done otherwise, unless we had waited for a declaration of the ministerial policy at home, and the delay might, perhaps, have had mischievous results.
Now it is all plain-sailing. We know what our course is to be, and we can follow it out consistently. Yakub Khan as Amir was merely a puppet; and government through such a medium is always unsatisfactory. Now his position is simplified—and simplified, too, by his own act—though his future position in life not a man in camp can foreshadow. The proclamation accepting his abdication was received here from Simla by cypher telegram on the 26th; and to-day a translation of it was issued to the chief sirdars of Cabul, who cannot mistake the meaning conveyed in the following terse sentences:—
“I, General Roberts, on behalf of the British Government, hereby proclaim that the Amir having of his own free will abdicated, has left Afghanistan without a Government. In consequence of the shameful outrage upon its Envoy and suite, the British Government has been compelled to occupy by force of arms Cabul, the capital, and take military possession of other parts of Afghanistan. The British Government now commands that all Afghan authorities, chiefs, and sirdars do continue their functions in maintaining order, referring to me whenever necessary. The British Government desires that the people shall be treated with justice and benevolence, and that their religious feelings and customs be respected. The services of such sirdars and chiefs as assist in preserving order will be duly recognized; but all disturbers of the peace and persons concerned in attacks upon the British authority will meet with condign punishment. The British Government, after consultation with the principal sirdars, tribal chiefs, and others representing the interests and wishes of the various provinces and cities, will declare its will as to the future permanent arrangements to be made for the good government of the people.”
Judging from internal evidence, this Proclamation bears the stamp of the home Ministry, and it has been hailed with unbounded satisfaction by all among us who have been fearing a repetition of the old shilly-shally policy which has had such disastrous results. The Government has now committed itself to a distinct policy which can be proclaimed throughout Afghanistan, and our duty now is to wait until “the principal sirdars, tribal chiefs, and others representing the interests and wishes of the various provinces and cities,” have been made aware of what has occurred. Messengers will be sent with copies of the Proclamation to them; and they will no doubt be invited to come to Cabul, and hear the “will” of the British Government. It is no longer a question of the “wishes” of the Viceroy of India, but a distinct assertion of our newly-acquired power in Afghanistan.
To-day has been marked, also, not only by the issue of the Proclamation, but by a new change of front on the part of Yakub Khan. Whatever his fears or suspicions may be, or whatever guilty consciousness he may have of participation in the Massacre, he has withdrawn so far from his position of the 12th—when he said he would willingly go wherever the Viceroy might deport him: to India, London, or Malta—that he has contemplated flight to Turkistan. Such, at least, is the information generally believed to have been received; and the action taken this afternoon proves that he has so far committed himself as to jeopardize his future freedom. About five o’clock his tent was isolated by the removal of all those of his servants pitched about it: his guard was increased to forty British soldiers, and instead of two sentries there are now four pacing to and fro with fixed bayonets. A fifth sentry is within the tent itself, and the ex-Amir is as close a prisoner as he can be made. Four personal attendants only are now allowed to him, and these, also, are under guard. His food will be examined carefully before it is passed to his servants, and every possible precaution against outside information being conveyed to him will be taken.
CAMP SIAH SUNG, 30th October.
Since the issue of the Proclamation and the close confinement of Yakub Khan to his tent two days ago, there has been no further development of the situation, and it seems as if we should quietly wait here for the winter in order to allow events to develop themselves without further demonstration of our force. We have Cabul city and its guilt to deal with; and though there are few outward signs of the investigation into the circumstances surrounding the Massacre of our Embassy, there is a steady stream of work running on, the results of which have yet to be declared. This has been done chiefly by Colonel Macgregor, aided hitherto, by Hyat Khan, Assistant Political Officer, who ferrets out persons likely to give evidence; and now that Dr. Bellew (the third member of the Commission) has arrived, still further progress is being made in unravelling the complicated web of falsehood which has been drawn about the occurrence. Sixty witnesses have been examined privately; and, as each one is quite in ignorance of what has been said before, the truth of the various stories told can be tested by the comparisons drawn between the testimony of the friends and enemies of Yakub Khan. Such of his late confidential advisers and adherents as have come under cross-examination have generally injured his cause by affirming too much; and plausible stories have been concocted to divert attention from his shortcoming in not affording material aid to Sir Louis Cavagnari. Much, for instance, has been made of the little flash of energy he showed in sending Daoud Shah and thirty men to remonstrate with the mutineers; and it has been asserted that the determined attitude of the rabble was proved by Daoud Shah being bayoneted and all his escort killed. But when this episode is looked closely into, and a little independent evidence is taken, it becomes apparent that Daoud Shah had merely a few attendants with him, and none of these were killed; while he himself was by no means so maltreated as he would have us believe. There is another incident, too, which assumes a new complexion when carefully examined. Soon after the Massacre, Yakub Khan put to death Abdul Karim, a powerful Kohistani chief, whose English proclivities were very pronounced. The explanation of this act, as given by Abdullah Gyaz (a confidential adviser of the ex-Amir, arrested yesterday) is that Yakub Khan sent that chief from his palace to remonstrate with the troops, and that, instead of carrying out his orders, he gave direct encouragement to the mutineers, and urged them to continue their attack on the Residency. Upon Abdul Karim’s return to the palace, Abdullah Gyaz affirms, Yakub Khan was informed of his treacherous disobedience, and, after the Massacre had taken place, ordered that he should be executed. This story is so utterly improbable that it is scarcely worth consideration; but its falsity has been proved very directly, as the name of every man of importance who went near the mutinous troops has been obtained from various sources, friendly and otherwise, and Abdul Karim has never before been mentioned in the list. The inference that suggests itself is that the wire-pullers about Yakub Khan were distrustful of Abdul Karim, whose honesty of purpose and known sympathy with the English rendered him a dangerous personage in their eyes, and on the principle that dead men tell no tales, they induced the Amir to sanction his execution. He probably knew too much, and was put out of the way before he had an opportunity of using his knowledge. In an investigation, such as that now going on, it is only possible to shape out conclusions by inference, for even such witnesses as profess unbounded friendship towards us lie so circumstantially to serve their own ends, that very little reliance can be placed on them. It is not as if a long period had elapsed since the events took place: the occurrence must still be fresh in the minds of everybody: but there is such a tendency to intrigue now that our power is established in Cabul, that distrust is bred in our minds in an increasing ratio as the evidence accumulates. There is no bottom to the well in which Afghan truth was sunk ages ago, and it is disheartening to sound it now. The ex-Amir’s partisans have lied honestly enough to shield their master, while he was still protected by us; but now that he is a nonentity, and all semblance of power has passed from him, there may be a change in their attitude. They have a certain rude idea of faithfulness to their salt; but when they see their Chief arrested without a word of warning, after being allowed to move freely among us for weeks, their fortitude may not be equal to the emergency, and they may seek to purchase their own safety by voluntary disclosures. For these we must wait.
In the mean time the smaller fry are being dealt with by the Military Commission, under whose orders eleven prisoners have been hanged. The order of procedure is that the case against men under arrest is fully gone into by Colonel Macgregor, aided by Hyat Khan; and when the evidence and witnesses are ready, the prisoners are “committed,” so to say, to the Commission, just as in ordinary criminal inquiries they would be passed from the Police Magistrate to the Assize Judge. There is no unseemly hurry or vindictive haste displayed in the inquiry. All goes on systematically and deliberately; and before the Commission the men under arrest are allowed to hear all that has been stated against them and to give such explanation as they desire. If there then appears new matter for inquiry, they are remanded from day to day; and no effort is spared, in common fairness to them, to test the truth of their statements. If found guilty, they are condemned to death; but even then the sentence is not carried out without reference to a third source of authority—that of Sir Frederick Roberts himself. If he approves the finding, he signs the order for execution, and the Provost-Marshal has then to fulfil the duty of his office without delay. But if there seem doubtful points strong enough to be yet a third time considered, the sentence of death is held in suspense; and even now we have in our quarter-guards men in this stage, with the halter dangling before their eyes. It will be seen that nothing can be fairer than the course taken by Sir Frederick Roberts to punish such as deserve death for their past actions in the early weeks of September; and in the face of it there is none of that reckless blood-spilling which we may get the credit for. In our Assize the old line—
“And wretches hang that jurymen may dine—”
is unknown: and if there is grumbling occasionally at the pains taken to convict prisoners instead of hanging them on mere suspicion, it is all the more creditable to our Chief and his Commissioners that no attention is paid to it. To-day two men were marched off to execution who richly deserved their fate. The one was the jemadar of the rascally Kotwal of Cabul, himself hanged on the 20th. Like the Kotwal, he was most servile in offering aid to us after our arrival, and, on the night of the 8th, acted as a guide to some troops marching up the Bala Hissar Ridge, in connection with the action against the rebels on that day. The second prisoner was a Mahomedan resident of Cabul, in whose house a box, marked “Cabul Embassy,” was found by a searching party of the 28th Regiment. He could give no explanation of how he came by the box, except the colourless one that it had been placed in his rooms by an enemy. Several guns and swords were also found in his house; and, nothing in his favour being forthcoming, he was sent to execution. The guilt or innocence of the confidential friends of Yakub Khan, who are now prisoners, is still a question of doubt; but none are arrested without justification, and their cases will undergo the usual scrutiny.
There is a probability that the taking of Cabul may not be so barren as we first thought in the matter of loot. The city itself having been respected, there was not much to get out of the Bala Hissar beyond warlike stores and ammunition. But to-day the news has been made known that a vast store of treasure is hidden in houses belonging to Yakub Khan, or his near relatives living within the walls. Our treasure-chest has sunk very low of late by reason of the enormous purchases made by the Commissariat, which has to provide five months’ stores for the army. Carriage was so scarce when we marched up from Ali Kheyl, that only a few lakhs were brought up, and poverty is staring us in the face. Such expedients as giving bills upon India to Hindu and Kizilbash merchants in Cabul, or in receiving from Wali Mahomed and his sirdars many thousands of Bokhara gold tillahs (worth Rs. 9 or Rs. 10 each), or Russian five-rouble pieces said to be worth Rs. 11-8, though nobody really knows their legitimate market value—such expedients could not last long; and as nothing has been done to exact the fine imposed upon the Cabulis, it was clear that specie would have to be raised from some source yet untouched. It is said that Yakub Khan, on assuming the Amirship, appropriated many lakhs of rupees which his father had given to the mother of Abdullah Jan, Shere Ali’s favourite son, and these he had cleared out of the Bala Hissar, and, with other property of value, had hidden in the city. A little party of British soldiers filed off to the house indicated by our informers this morning, and the officer in charge of our treasure-chest (Major Moriarty) and Lieutenant Neville Chamberlain, Assistant Political Officer, had soon their eyes gladdened by bags and boxes of gold coins, besides finding on all sides rich silks, brocades, and other portable property of enormous value. About eight lakhs in gold were secured, and native rumour affirms that before the examination comes to an end, a million sterling may be unearthed. Boxes innumerable have still to be opened, and our spies are firm in their assurance that the value in coin and precious stones alone is eighty lakhs of rupees. To-morrow the examination of the place will be continued, and it is hoped another good day’s find will be the result. This prize-money, for no doubt it will be considered as such, if it is confiscated, will be a just reward for the energy and dash our commander and his troops have shown in the capture of Cabul; and even if it is found necessary to use the money now for our immediate wants, the debtor and creditor account should be carefully kept in view of future distribution. Such scandals as that of Delhi and Kirwee need not be repeated in the case of Cabul.[22]
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Footnote 22:
It has since been ruled that the treasure is not to be considered prize-money. Abdur Rahman, upon his accession to the Amirship, was given 19½ lakhs of rupees, of which 9½ will appear in the accounts as “refunded to the Afghan Government.” This was the sum found in Cabul as detailed above.
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Chapter X
The Force moves into Sherpur Cantonments—Building Winter Quarters—The Sirdar and the Soldier—A Trying Climate—General Macpherson starts for Jugdulluck—Arrival of Stores from the Shutargardan—The Khyber Line of Communication—Various Routes to Jugdulluck—The Luttabund Kotal—The Chinari Route—The Khurd Cabul Defile—Its Difficulties Exaggerated—General Macpherson marches to Sei Baba—Reception of the Shutargardan Garrison—Padshah Khan dismissed to his Home—Death of Allahaddin.
SHERPUR CANTONMENTS, 1st November.
The scattered camp on the Siah Sung Ridge, though well situated from a military point of view, and extremely healthy and dry, involved such heavy duties for the troops, that it was resolved to move into these cantonments sooner than was originally intended. The reserve Commissariat stores were all sent here; and as a large quantity of food had also to be kept at Siah Sung, there was double guard-duty to be done; and this in addition to such work as furnishing a picquet on the Bala Hissar Heights, a strong guard in the city, another over the Amir’s tent, and a third to watch the excavations in the Residency and the Arsenal ruins. Besides all these, the European regiments had nearly every day to send a company to guard prisoners on their way to execution, while the cavalry were out on escort duty with Commissariat officers, buying up food, forage, and firewood. All these multifarious duties resulted, technically, in giving the men only two nights a week in bed; and as after sunset the cold makes itself felt very sharply, the work became very trying. The 5th Ghoorkas and 23rd Pioneers, too, were separated from the rest of the force, being sent down here to build their winter quarters, the barracks built by Shere Ali not being equal to accommodating all the regiments. Under these circumstances it was thought best to move everybody to Sherpur—except, of course, such regiments as were to move out towards Jugdulluck for the purpose of opening up communication with the Khyber Force. We struck our tents on Siah Sung Ridge yesterday morning at nine o’clock, and we are here encamped on the cultivated fields which the three walls of the cantonment enclose. The change is one for the better, as all duties are lightened, picquets only being wanted on the Bemaru Heights, which shut us in on the north side. A few sentries at the five large gates, and others scattered about the camp, are all that are required; and orders can be transmitted to regiments or brigades in a few moments, as all are within the line of walls. Some thousands of masons, carpenters, and Hazara coolies are busily engaged under our Engineer officers in plastering, whitewashing, and making generally comfortable the long rows of rooms once intended for the Afghan army, while blocks of rooms are also being built in the open for such regiments as have not had quarters assigned to them in Shere Ali’s barracks. The foundations of a pretentious palace had been begun by our late enemy at the foot of the Bemaru hills, and three sides of this had been raised some six or seven feet high—good, solid masonry, well cemented together. Mud buildings, with wooden framework, are being raised on both sides of these walls by the Ghoorkas and as they work with their customary earnestness in things great and small, they will soon be under first-rate shelter. The Pioneers are building their barracks a little higher up the Ridge to the north-east, but only one company is now engaged on them, the regiment being away on service with General Macpherson, who has started eastwards to join hands with General Charles Gough’s Brigade, now somewhere near Gundamak, on the Khyber side. Wood in abundance, from the houses in the Bala Hissar, has been brought in; and in the matter of doors and windows, Cabul mistris are hard at work all day, turning them out by the score. There is much to be done yet before we are all housed for the winter, and the camp-followers and kahars have yet to be provided for, it being found impossible to clear out the Bemaru village for them, as the inhabitants are more numerous than were at first supposed, and they would have difficulty in finding shelter in Cabul or the villages about. Bemaru, which is embraced within the line of fortifications, will, therefore, remain undisturbed, for the present. If Bemaru could be turned into a large bazaar it would be a great gain, as the Cabul bazaar is a mile and a half away; and when snow is on the ground, such a distance cannot be travelled daily by our sepoys and followers without much discomfort. With native troops, and even European soldiers accustomed to Indian stations, a bazaar is almost a necessity, as little additions to the men’s rations and clothing can be picked up in it—all tending to keep them more contented and in better health. It is needless to say that stringent rules will be framed against the vending of native liquors; but these are most unpalatable, as a rule, and are not likely to be much in request. A mixture of strong Hollands gin and fusil oil, flavoured with turpentine, may give you some idea of Afghan arrack, but it must be tasted to be fully appreciated. We have been so long without rum, that a few strong stomachs have been found equal to grappling with it when largely diluted with water; but, as a “dram,” it would choke off a highly-seasoned Dutch skipper. Then, as food is good and plentiful, there is not the demand for strong liquor that there might otherwise be. Besides, hard work keeps the soldiers from that idle lounging which is such an incentive to drink. One little incident, however, while I am dealing with this matter of drinking, is worth mentioning. Some casks of Commissariat rum were left, too temptingly unguarded, near one of the British regiments; and a toper, who had scarcely seen a dram since the fight at Charasia, yielded to the temptation. As a consequence, he was soon under arrest. In the bustle of camp-life, there is but little accommodation for prisoners; and the lucky Highlander—we have had no “lucky Ghoorka” yet as at Jellalabad last campaign—was marched off to the spot in the ditch (the space between the outer wall and the line of barracks) where the Afghans awaiting trial are lodged. The man was placed in a tent where a sirdar (an Afghan noble) was calmly reflecting on his kismut in being delivered into our hands, and the two prisoners were left to “make friends” as best they could. The sirdar was equal to the occasion, and made first advances. Taking his snuff-box from his belt, he offered it to the soldier, who, astonished, even in his drunkenness, by the politeness of his companion, half held out his hand, saying, in his maudlin humour,—“It’s little we ever take from you niggers, and it’s —— little you niggers ever give us.” Having thus satisfied his conscience, he allowed the snuff-box to be nearly emptied into his hand; and still grumbling out complaints at our policy, proceeded to “take in snuff” most ferociously. The sirdar stared in silent awe at the madman who could take snuff by the tolah; but presently such an explosion of sneezing followed, that he withdrew to a safe distance. His politeness had imperilled the safety of the tent. The soldier sneezed himself into such an exhausted state, that he fell asleep where he lay, and the sirdar watched over him with unfeigned interest, this new experience of Kafir life having apparently reconciled him to his fate. I am afraid this letter is a strange jumble of trivialities and more serious affairs; but such is our life at present. On one side Ghoorkas making mud-pies and laughing good-humouredly at their own architecture; on the other, a gleam of bayonets showing where an Afghan prisoner is on his way to the gallows. In one tent, the chaff and anecdote of the mess-table; in the next, Yakub Khan at his prayers.
It is to be hoped we shall not remain long under canvas here, for the cold at night is already intense. Nine degrees of frost were registered last night, and in the morning the watercourses were all frozen over. It is these watercourses which make Sherpur so uncomfortable just now. The soil is light and porous, and has all been under irrigation for vine and wheat culture; and as the channels are raised a foot or so higher than the fields, and steady little streams are coursing along from the higher level of the Cabul river, the whole place is damp and excessively cold. The water lies in places only a foot from the surface, and, near the eastern end of the cantonments, bursts forth in a spring, proving how saturated the subsoil must be. No cold is so trying to men living in tents, without fires of any kind, as that which strikes upward, and a water-proof sheet is but a poor protection from it, however much it may neutralize the actual damp. At Siah Sung water was in request, every drop used having to be carried up the steep hillsides; but here we have too much of it. The channels are carried under the walls by low culverts, and some of these will have to be filled up if we are to counteract the effects of past irrigation. This can be done without much trouble; and the existing wells, aided by a few more that can be sunk in a week, would meet all our drinking requirements, while the channels outside could also be used by the bhistees and followers.
There is such a turmoil here with the building and improvements going on and the storing of five months’ supplies in the Commissariat godowns, that one almost forgets military movements; but when the Pioneers marched out this morning, we were reminded that an important step was being taken towards opening up the Gundamak and Khyber line of communications. General Macpherson commands the brigade which has left, and he has with him the following troops:—67th Foot, 23rd Pioneers, 28th Punjab Native Infantry, 12th Bengal Cavalry, and two guns F-A Battery, Royal Horse Artillery. Swinley’s Mountain Battery will also join him at Butkhak, ten miles east of this, on the 3rd, and a few days later on he will march for Jugdulluck. We are anxiously awaiting this movement, as our postal arrangements are very uncertain, it being impossible to send off bags while the tribes are infesting the roads. I have complained of the slowness of the Khyber Force; but it is only just to General Charles Gough heading the advance to say that he has pushed on as rapidly as General Bright would allow him. He has had but few troops, little transport, and scarcely any supplies; and with Khugianis and Shinwaris in front, and fickle Afridis behind, great caution had to be exercised. A long convoy with stores, which had accumulated at the Shutargardan, came in to-day. Since the breaking up of the tribal combination at the Shutargardan on October 19th, all has been quiet south of Cabul, and our convoys have marched along without molestation. The little exemplary severity we showed in shooting three villagers, who fired upon General Baker’s rear-guard when near the Logar Bridge at Zahidabad on October 4th, had the best results; while the fact of our being in possession of Cabul itself has so far acted like a charm.
3rd November.
The Shutargardan route having been finally closed, it has, of course, become imperative to open up the Gundamak and Khyber line of communication, and General Macpherson, with a force already detailed, is now engaged upon that work. From Cabul to Butkhak the road runs in a due easterly direction through the Cabul plain, and is so good that cavalry can travel at a gallop over it. To the south a range of hills shuts out the valley through which the Logar river runs after passing through the Sang-i-Nawishta defile; and when this range is passed a swampy maidan is entered upon, which gradually changes into a dry, open plain, overgrown with short tufts of coarse grass. The Logar river is crossed at right-angles by the road which is carried over a stout masonry bridge of six arches. The river is turbid, but its current runs at about four or five miles an hour to its junction with the Cabul stream, creeping away under the high hills which bound the view to the north, two or three miles away. Irrigation channels are cut from the Logar, and these serve as a source of fertility to the fields about Butkhak, a walled village prettily situated in its orchards, with shallow streams running near the walls. Butkhak is to be the first post on the road, its garrison consisting of forty rifles, who will be placed in a square enclosure easily capable of defence. The telegraph wire has been already laid to this village from Sherpur cantonments. The hills which bound the Cabul plain to the north and south close in near Butkhak, and to the east sink down 1,000 feet, affording the only out-look towards Jugdulluck. One can see even from Cabul that this break in the continuous ranges which guard the plain must give an outlet into the Jellalabad Valley, and it is accordingly in this direction that we shall unite our little army with the supporting force that has marched out from Peshawur through the Khyber. The ordinary road from Butkhak to Jugdulluck, and thence to Gundamak, is through the Khurd Cabul Pass; but this has been represented of so formidable a kind, that alternative routes have been sought. Moreover, the Khurd Cabul Road makes a considerable detour to the south, and thus adds many miles to the distance, measured as the crow flies. To satisfy himself as to the practicable nature, or otherwise, of other routes, General Roberts, accompanied by Colonel Macgregor and a few members of his Staff, left Sherpur early on Sunday morning, and rode over to Butkhak, where General Macpherson was encamped.
The first route examined was that known as the Luttabund Road, which runs due east, in a straight line from Butkhak as far as Kata Sung, 28 or 30 miles distant, and then turns down in a southerly direction to Jugdulluck, five miles further on. This would make the whole distance to be marched over only 35 miles, whereas the Khurd Cabul Road is at least 55 miles long. A reconnoitring party of six companies of infantry, one squadron of cavalry, and two mountain guns, was sent out from Butkhak with the General towards the Luttabund Kotal,[23] and the country was thoroughly examined. The road was found to traverse open rolling hills for about 4 miles, and then by a gradual ascent to lead up to the Kotal. The hills were not at all precipitous, and nowhere closed down upon the road, which all along permitted of flanking parties working to right and left without the slightest difficulty. In one place only did a ridge break the even run of the path, and a few days’ blasting would cut away the obstruction. The Kotal is 9 miles distant from Butkhak, and was calculated to be 8,000 feet above sea-level. From the summit a splendid view was obtained on all sides; and it would be a perfect heliographing station, as not only could Sherpur and Cabul be distinctly seen, but also the whole range of the Safed Koh and the peaks above Lundi Kotal in the Khyber range. In fact, it is not too sanguine an estimate of the position to say that Cabul, Ali Kheyl, and Lundi Kotal could all be connected by the heliograph. Sikaram stood out prominently in the long range of the Safed Koh, and the various minor peaks could also be observed. Native report had said that to the Kotal the road was easy enough, the difficulties being on the eastern side, where precipitous descents had to be overcome. So far, however, as General Roberts could judge, looking down towards Kata Sung, there was nothing that skilled road-makers could not overcome: a short ravine with almost perpendicular sides seeming the chief difficulty. It was too late in the day to continue the reconnaissance, and the party accordingly returned to Butkhak, well satisfied with their visit. On the following day the Chinari Road was tried, General Roberts taking a few of the 12th Bengal Cavalry with him; while a force, similar in strength to that of Sunday, was sent round through the Khurd Cabul. The Luttabund route was again taken by the General for 4 miles, and then a turn to the south was made and the bed of a stream followed for 3 miles until the Chinari defile was reached.
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This was found to be of a really formidable character, the hills closing down upon the stream, which wound along through a gorge where horsemen could only march in Indian file. High pinnacle-shaped peaks jutted up on either hand, and the scenery was of the wildest nature. This defile was 4 miles long; and although a few Kushi camels were being driven along it by their nomadic owners, it would be quite impracticable for the passage of anything but infantry. The gorge ended, rolling hills, rising here and there to round-topped mounds, were crossed for 5 miles; and then the road joined that from the Khurd Cabul on the south about 3 miles west of Tezin. A halt was called at this junction, 16 miles from Butkhak, and in a short time the reconnoitring party came up. They had passed through the Khurd Cabul without seeing a single armed man, and such villagers as were met were quite friendly. The General rode back to Butkhak by way of the Khurd Cabul, and they saw all three roads, and could decide as to their merits. The old descriptions of this famous Khurd Cabul Road had led every one to expect tremendous difficulties; but at this time of the year there are no obstacles sufficiently great to prevent horse artillery trotting through. The scenery is imposing enough and the high pinnacles of the Chinari gorge are repeated on a grander scale; but the Pass is never so narrow as to forbid the orderly march of an army of all arms, and the real gorge is only 2 miles long, or even less. A rapid mountain-stream runs through it and boulders are plentiful but they are not so large as to hinder progress; and the heights above, though formidable-looking, would not, if crowned by an enemy, be an absolute bar to an advance through. Besides, a path to the south-west enables the heights to be occupied very easily, the cavalry and mountain guns from Butkhak taking this road and crossing over the height without any check. The gorge at Ali Musjid, with precipitous crags added, will give a good idea of this part of the road. There is, of course, the objection to this route that, in the melting of the snows, the river bed would be covered by a roaring torrent of ice-cold water; but, for present service, the road can be used without any improvements being required. From the juncture with the Chinari Road to Butkhak is 17 miles; and after riding this distance General Roberts rested a short time, and then started for Sherpur, which he reached at dusk. It was a hard day’s ride, 42 miles, partly over bad ground; but the valuable information gained as to the future line of communication with the Khyber and Peshawur was ample recompense. The conclusions arrived at may be summarized very briefly: the Chinari Road is, once for all, condemned as out of the question; the Khurd Cabul can be used for all present emergencies without labour being expended upon it; while the direct Luttabund route, so far as it has been examined, is to be made the road of the future. It has followed from this that General Macpherson has marched along with his force to Jugdulluck by the Khurd Cabul, as it is of the first importance that he should join hands with General Charles Gough’s force pushing onward from Gundamak. He will not strike the Luttabund Road until Sei Baba is reached, 5 miles west of Kata Sung: and on his return march he will no doubt be able to test the truth of native rumour as to the difficulties immediately to the east of the Luttabund Kotal, which, so far as General Roberts could see, have been much overrated. Having the 23rd Pioneers with him, whose knowledge of roads and roadmaking is exceptionally good, General Macpherson will be able to form an exact estimate of this Luttabund route. If it is pronounced practicable, it will save, as I have said, fully 20 miles, and, having no awkward defile in its entire length, will be much safer for an army to work through. Even if it is rejected, there is still the Khurd Cabul open, the “formidable” features of which have been torn down by closer acquaintanceship.
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Footnote 23:
The word “Kotal” is applied usually where the road passes over a hill, instead of through it; “Pass” being used in the latter case.
5th November.
With the exception of the brigade under Brigadier-General Macpherson, which has been detached on the important work of securing our winter line of communication by way of Gundamak, General Roberts’s force is once more concentrated, the arrival yesterday of Brigadier-General Hugh Gough with the troops lately at Kushi and on the Shutargardan having prevented the army here from dwindling to too small proportions. At noon on the 1st we had here only the following regiments:—72nd and 92nd Highlanders, 5th Ghoorkas, one company 23rd Pioneers, and one company of Sappers and Miners, as our infantry force; 120 of the 9th Lancers, and the 14th Bengal Lancers, as cavalry; two guns F-A, Royal Horse Artillery and G-3 Royal Artillery, with the two Gatling guns, as artillery. This was a very small force, and, if it had remained unstrengthened, might have given rise to a suspicion of weakness on our part; but between Kushi and Cabul was a long line of troops, who soon began to arrive at their destination here. The convoys they were escorting from the Shutargardan were all safely on their way; and on the afternoon of the 1st two companies of the 5th Punjab Infantry, a squadron of the 5th Punjab Cavalry, and four guns of Swinley’s Mountain Battery, reached Sherpur with the last loads. On the morning of the 2nd this mountain battery started again to join the force at Butkhak. On the 2nd there were no further arrivals here; but on the morning of the 3rd news was brought in that General Hugh Gough had reached Beni Hissar, and General Roberts rode out to meet him. The troops which were so near at hand were two squadrons of the 9th Lancers and head-quarters, two squadrons 5th Punjab Cavalry, six companies of the 5th Punjab Infantry, the 3rd Sikhs, and four guns of the Kohat Mountain Battery (Captain Morgan’s). General Gough had not followed the route taken by the main force when advancing upon Cabul, but, starting from Kushi, had immediately crossed the Logar river, and encamped for the first night on the left bank at Payo Kheyl. His next halting-place was Bagh Sultan; and thence onward to Charasia he followed the usual road. His march was perfectly orderly, none of the villagers molesting him, the fall of Cabul having checked any warlike tendencies among the Logaris.
As we rode out to Beni Hissar we found the band of the 5th Ghoorkas waiting upon the bridge over the Cabul river to welcome the 3rd Sikhs and Captain Morgan’s battery, to whom all of us were anxious to give every praise for their steady defence of the Shutargardan. At the gate of the Bala Hissar the band of the 72nd was waiting with a similar object. Taking the bridle road which leads to Beni Hissar through the Cabul plain, we presently met a few of the 5th Punjab Cavalry, the advance guard of the little force, and immediately in rear of them was Padshah Khan and a few attendants. The powerful Chief of the local Ghilzais was eager to greet General Roberts, and looked very much as if he would kiss his stirrup. He is a man of common appearance, with no pretence of dignity, and lacks the fine features often seen among the independent hill chiefs. He is past middle age; but is well-formed, and has, seemingly, many years of life before him in which to pursue the “tricky practices” for which he is so celebrated. At present he is rather humbled by the ill-luck which has come upon him in the loss of his brother, Allahaddin Khan, whose arm was blown off by a shell from the Kohat Battery during the investment of the Shutargardan. Allahaddin was left in a dying state at Charasia, secondary hemorrhage having broken out some days after his arm was amputated. I may as well state, once for all, that he has since died, and that Padshah Khan to-day received his congé from the General, and was told he might return to his home to bury his brother and to find, if possible, some letters which the members of his tribe have looted in the Khurd Cabul. After a few words with Padshah Khan, General Roberts rode on, and, upon meeting his Brigadier, faced round again for Cabul. A halt was called just outside the Bala Hissar gate; and, after the 9th Lancers, the 5th Punjab Cavalry, and 5th Punjab Infantry had passed on, the Mountain Battery and the 3rd Sikhs were formed up to receive the thanks of the General. The battery in its equipment and general turn-out of men and mules looked but little worse for wear; while the 3rd Sikhs, though dusty and travel-stained, marched along in excellent form. They are as fine a set of men as could be desired, and a red standard, captured from the Ghilzais, flying alongside their regimental colours, bore testimony to the successful fighting they had gone through. They are 730 strong, and will be a great addition to the force, as there is no question of their ability to meet an enemy of far superior strength on equal terms. The regiment is made up chiefly of Sikhs, but there is also a fair sprinkling of Pathans among them, and all have fought equally well under very trying circumstances. Having halted them alongside the Mountain Battery, General Roberts proceeded to compliment them on their late exploits. He said:
“It always gives me much pleasure to meet the 3rd Sikhs and the Kohat Mountain Battery, and this is more particularly the case now, after their gallant behaviour at the Shutargardan. When the force left Kushi for the march upon Cabul, there was only one point which gave me anxiety, and that was the post to which, with the 21st Punjab Infantry, they had been told off to hold. The safety of my right flank and rear depended mainly upon the safety of the Shutargardan; for, if once the latter had fallen, the tribes would have attempted to hinder my march. Repeated attacks were made upon the position you were holding; and so confident were the Ghilzais of their success, that I hear they brought down their women to witness your discomfiture. You were able, however, to beat them off with heavy loss, though far outnumbered; and this shows how, with the weapons you are now armed, you can hold your ground against almost any number of these tribesmen. You have set a good example to the whole force by showing what a few men can do when properly led; and I do not think I could have chosen a better spot on which to thank you than here, beneath the walls of the Bala Hissar, to the capture of which you have, indirectly, so much contributed.” General Roberts then alluded to the excellent dispositions.made by Colonel Money in meeting the attacks made, and complimented Captain Morgan upon the good practice of his gunners. He referred also to the bravery of Major Griffiths, who, although wounded in the early fight at Karatiga, had led his men at the Surkhai Kotal on the 14th, and worked bravely with them on the following days of the investment. The native officer, Jemadar Sher Mahomed, 3rd Sikhs, who distinguished himself both at Karatiga and on the Surkhai Kotal, was called from the ranks and briefly praised; and, in conclusion, the General said the Viceroy had sent a special message, thanking the Shutargardan garrison for their bravery; and if it had not already been made known to the sepoys, he should wish the message to be published in full orders. The 3rd Sikhs and the Mountain Battery then marched to Sherpur without further delay, no doubt well pleased with the hearty reception given to them.
The 3rd Sikhs had five prisoners with them, who were hanged in the Bala Hissar this morning. Four of these were the headmen of villages about the Shutargardan who were in our pay, but who, with the treachery of their race, played a double game. At the time they were receiving pay from us to keep the road safe, they were proved to have been active in stirring up the neighbouring tribes to attack Colonel Money. Their object was either to obtain large sums with which to buy off the Ghilzai chiefs assembled, or to share in the loot if the Shutargardan were captured. They failed to accomplish either object, and when with consummate coolness they turned up after the tribesmen had been scattered, they were summarily arrested. The fifth prisoner was a villager, who was stopped by Major Griffiths when out on a foraging party. The man thought that officer was unarmed as he had no sword with him (his right arm was stiff from his wound and he had discarded his sword); and as the sepoys were some distance away, the fellow put his hand upon his tulwar and stepped forward as if to cut down Major Griffiths. The latter drew his pistol, and his self-possession put an end to the meditated attack, two or three Sikhs overtaking the man as he tried to escape to the hills. The 3rd Sikhs have also with them a havildar, who deserted from one of the regiments at Candahar. He was disguised as an Afghan villager, but was recognized on the roadside by an old companion, who addressed him by name, and called out “halt,” which order, with his old respect for discipline still clinging to him, he obeyed at once. He is to be tried by court-martial.
All hands are still busily engaged in preparing to meet the hardships of a Cabul winter, but it is difficult to see how adequate provision can be made for the followers unless some part of Bemaru is cleared out for them. Private servants and kahars are so numerous, that the housing of them is a serious question. As a subsidiary portion of the force, but one which could not be dispensed with under the conditions of Indian warfare, it is worth while drawing attention to the kahars forming the ambulance corps. There are 900 of these men with General Roberts, and to them is entrusted the charge of carrying off the wounded in action and conveying the sick in dandies and doolies on the line of march. They have been drilled into good order by Surgeon-Major Bourke, by whose energy they have been kept much better in hand than is usual in campaigns similar to this. They correspond to the bearers of the Army Hospital Corps at home, but in camp they are also employed in any rough work which may require to be done. Their behaviour on the 6th of October at Charasia was extremely good; they were constantly under fire, and their indifference to danger was very marked, their belief in kismut supplying the place of steady courage. In the Ambulance Corps two were killed and three wounded; while with the regiments three more were killed.
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Chapter XI
The Inquiry into Yakub Khan’s Conduct—Visit to the Chardeh Valley—Dismantlement of the Bala Hissar—The Amir’s Palace—A curious Picture—A Sirdar’s House in the Fortress—General Baker’s Raid upon Indikee—Arrest of Sepoys—Seizure of Arms—The Guilt of the Herat Regiments—Opening up of Communication with General Bright—Failure to keep the Road Open—The Execution of Forty-nine Sepoys—An Amnesty Issued—The probable Fate of the Amir—Punishment of the Shutargardan Tribes—First Signs of Winter.
SHERPUR, 7th November.
The Commission which is inquiring into the massacre of Sir Louis Cavagnari and his escort may be said to have reached the first stage of its work—the examination of nearly 100 witnesses, who have spoken as to what occurred at the Bala Hissar and in Cabul afterwards, having been completed. This has furnished materials, so to say, for the brief against the Amir, who, from the 5th, may he considered to have been on his trial. Explanations will, of course, be required of him of such suspicious circumstances as point to something beyond mere helplessness and vacillation, and his statements will be weighed against those already in the hands of the Commission. In the present stage of the inquiry great reticence is observed as to what evidence has been taken, and it would be idle to indulge in too free conjectures. This much may be taken as certain, that not the least respect of persons will be shown in the decisions arrived at by the Commissioners. The hanging of such wretches as the Kotwal of Cabul and the chowkidar of Mundai was an example to such small fry as those who make up the rabble population of Cabul; but higher game may be flown at, as the faithlessness of chiefs and influential leaders must be punished. The Mustaufi and the other Ministers under arrest have yet to be dealt with; and if their complicity in the treachery which we are punishing is established, they will have short shrift.
Yesterday General Roberts, taking his usual personal escort and a troop of the 9th Lancers, rode into the Chardeh Valley with General Baker. The position of the enemy on the Asmai Heights on the 8th of October was explained by General Baker, and also the disposition for the attack. The Cabul gorge was passed through, the river crossed, and the road at the foot of the hills blocking Chardeh from Charasia followed. Walled homesteads and richly-cultivated fields alternated with orchards, on the right; and as the road gradually ascended, a beautiful view of the whole valley was obtained. Even so late in the year as now it will answer the description given of it by a member of the Embassy: “a mass of vegetation.” Rows of willow-trees rise from the sides of every irrigation channel, and orchards innumerable are scattered on all sides. The walled enclosures, with their small towers, are dotted here and there, breaking the even monotony of the view, and whichever way one may turn, the steep hills which run out from the Pughman Range shut in this fertile valley. We followed the path from the gorge to the village of Indikee, and halted on the plain immediately in rear of the heights which the 72nd Highlanders and 5th Ghoorkas stormed on October 6th. It was across this plain that the enemy fled; and, seeing how clear it is of all obstacles, one can well understand General Baker’s regret that he had not cavalry ready at hand to cut up the retreating Afghans. If the nature of the ground had been better known to us, the loss of Nek Mahomed’s force would have been much heavier. Turning back from Indikee, we retraced our steps through the narrow, winding streets of the village, perched on the steep hillside with a roaring brook running through it, and struck the Bamian Road. This was followed for three miles into the heart of the valley, where nothing but wheat-fields and irrigated plots under water, or lying fallow for the plough, was seen. Then a bee-line was taken to the break in the hills to the east, and after a good gallop the northern suburbs of Cabul were reached, and the road to Sherpur followed until Camp was gained. Such villagers as we had seen were quiet enough: and if any sepoys were hidden away, they did not think it worth while to risk a shot at the General. Fanaticism seems at present incapable of producing a Ghazi equal to the fear of meeting certain death.
The dismantlement of the Bala Hissar has made such rapid progress, that within the walls the houses are now in ruins, all the beams and wooden supports, as well as every scrap of timber of every kind, being in course of removal to Sherpur. We are looking forward to a severe winter; and, however snug our quarters may be in the long ranges of barracks built here by Shere Ali, there will be much discomfort, not to say sickness, if firewood runs short. There are no forests from which large supplies can be drawn: the hillsides all around being bare rock or shingly deposit on which no vegetation can grow.
Some of the large houses in the Bala Hissar, though now deserted and partially demolished, show signs of luxury and comfort which speak highly of the pains taken by rich sirdars to enjoy life in their own rude way. The palace in which Yakub Khan lived was furnished luxuriously, no doubt, in his estimation; thick Persian carpets, bright-coloured rugs and dhurries covering the floors; while English-made tables, sideboards, and chairs were ranged side by side with the usual Eastern pillows, cushions, and rezais, which are the delight of indolent loungers. In one small room the ceiling was so closely hung with glass chandeliers that to move about was to risk a small shower of pendants falling; while the shades for the candles were of such brilliancy in light green and pink that the effect in the bright sunshine was quite dazzling. “Pearls and barbaric gold” there were none to be seen,—they had been removed for safe-keeping to his father-in-law’s house in the city, where the ladies of the harem were also lodged,—but such gimcracks as usually light up the houses of the poorest classes in England were not wanting. Cheap pictures in common gilded frames, the kind turned out by the thousand in Germany, all gaudy colours and painfully real, were hanging on the walls; while a few well-executed portraits of Russian officers, in full uniform and bedecked with orders, were found scattered about. These were all neatly framed in wood, and were so well got up that most probably they had been presents to Shere Ali from the Embassy, whose stay in Cabul gave rise to such serious results. One small picture was discovered, which is certainly a great curiosity. It is plainly the work of an Afghan artist, and carries us back to the disasters of 1841-42, when for a time our arms suffered so serious a reverse. The subject of the drawing is an Afghan on horseback, in full splendour of gold-braided coat of many colours, enormous black Astrakan hat with its characteristic cone shape, small black boots peeping out of the white drapery of his wide-flowing trouser, and the silver scabbard of his sword dangling at his side. His saddle is gorgeous in red and gold, while the trappings of his charger are bright with elaborate gilding. The horse is, in the language of heraldry, rampant, while his rider sits proudly in the saddle, staring out over the wide, wide world with an expression of haughty contempt, which is almost awe-inspiring. On the green foreground, which represents the grassy sward of the Cabul plain, a dog, abnormally developed in some particulars, gambols along, barking joyously (if the protrusion of a crimson tongue as big as his head means anything), and thoroughly enjoying his master’s triumph. What that triumph is has yet to be told! On the flank of the horse, and so close as to be in danger of its heels, is the figure of a British officer, clad in the old Pandy uniform, with a musket at the trail in his hand, and crouching in the most abject terror. His face, that of a boy subaltern, is turned upwards; while his eye, full of fear and respect, is watching his Afghan conqueror with great intentness. He is at the double, to keep up with the horse, and the artist has cleverly depicted in figure and expression the humiliation he is undergoing. Nothing could be finer than the contrast between the black-bearded Afghan, with his enormous pouting lips of a purple tinge, and staring eyes, and the smooth boyish face, full of timidity, of the unlucky Briton he is leading captive. We can afford to laugh at the picture, for “the wheel has come full circle,” and the subject now for an artist to draw would be an English Lancer, perfect in his array as a lily of the field, leading captive at his stirrup a typical Afghan (say Yakub Khan, for example) with a halter round his neck and clad in all the simplicity of a dhotie. The picture I have described is a standing curiosity in Camp, and is to be the nucleus of a future Cabul Picture Gallery.
In Cabul the better class of houses all present the same appearance outside: that of high brown mud walls, with one or two small doorways. Nothing can be more uninviting than these sun-baked walls, which, from the Mediterranean eastwards, always mark the residence of a Mussulman population. But within them there is much to atone for their forbidding exterior. Entering one of these large houses in the Bala Hissar some days ago, I found myself in an inner courtyard full 20 yards square. At either end were sets of rooms with open verandahs in front, built of a framework of wood fitted in with bricks, and then carefully plastered over. The lower rooms were four or five feet above the level of the courtyard, and broad flights of steps led up to them. Every bit of wood used as supports or for partition walls had been carved and fretted with great skill, while the inner rooms were cut off from the glare outside by carved wooden screens, some of the patterns being extremely pretty. But the greatest wealth of ornamentation had been lavished above, in what were the quarters of the women. A handsome wooden staircase, broad enough for four persons to walk abreast, led up to these; and once on the higher level the change from the dull brown below was quite refreshing. There was the same repetition of carved woodwork and open screens; but the inner walls were gay with frescoes in every colour, the plaster being covered with native designs of scroll-work, filled in with birds of startling plumage and flowers of hues to shame the rainbow. The ceilings and cornices were similarly adorned, the latter being set with mirrors in long narrow strips of various sizes. The recesses for lamps and the lintels of the doors had all shared in the general ornamentation, and to its inmates the zenana must have seemed a triumph of artistic skill. All was deserted now, not even a door remaining on its hinges. The carved work was smashed as if some reckless soldier had thrust his rifle stock through it; the bits of mirror were starred with stray blows, and the plaster had been broken from the walls as the woodwork had been torn away. The wood from the staircases leading to the roof, the favourite evening gossiping place of the sirdars, ladies, and attendants, had all been carried away, and the gaping holes through which the sunlight poured were eloquent of desolation. And it is a desolation well deserved, for it was in just such a house, with courtyard and pleasant upper rooms (perhaps not so elaborately decorated, the whitewash covering the beauties of the frescoes) that Cavagnari was lodged. The Bala Hissar may at last meet with the fate which it deserved, and narrowly escaped, when Pollock was master of Cabul in 1842: and soon not one mud wall may remain to stare its neighbour out of countenance. The large godowns in the Upper Fortress are still full of powder—nearly a million pounds; but, with this exception, the place has been cleared of all its warlike stores. The excavations at the Residency are still carried on, but the remains of our officers have not been found. Two English watches were unearthed a few days ago: one had stopped at 2.45 P.M., and the other at 8.15 P.M.
9th November.
There seems to be an impression gaining ground outside that the army here has been rather tardy in its work of vengeance, and has not fulfilled its mission in so bloodthirsty a way as might have been expected. Much, however, has had to be done in the clearing of the Shutargardan, laying in stores for the winter, and making inquiry quietly into the probable intention of the scattered regiments. It would not have been advisable to alarm such of the Afghan sepoys as had left their homes in Cabul and the villages near, and we have, therefore, hitherto only picked out a few of the worst characters and hanged them as an “encouragement to the others.” Seeing that no general action was taken in thoroughly searching such villages as were close at hand, the disbanded soldiers have returned in many instances to their homes, and now that we have some of the muster-rolls of the regiments in our possession, we have suddenly begun to sweep into the net of the Military Commission every one against whom suspicion exists. Flying parties of cavalry are sent out, some with sealed orders, to bring in such men as have been marked down by informers eager to earn the rewards offered for the apprehension of guilty persons, and yesterday a swoop was made into the Chardeh Valley, only two or three miles from Camp. The village of Indikee and its neighbours sent out most of their armed men to fight against us, and for the last month they have been revelling in fancied security, in the belief that their misdeeds were unknown. They have just been rudely awakened from their pleasant dream. On Friday evening the 3rd Sikhs, 5th Punjab Cavalry, and two mountain guns of the Kohat Battery were warned for service with General Baker for the morrow, but their destination was kept a secret. There are so many channels by which information may leak out that if it had been stated whither they were bound, some kind friends of the Afghans, who are favourably received in Camp, might have given warning to the men whose lives were in danger. General Baker formed up the troops outside the walls of the cantonments at daybreak yesterday morning, and at once moved off through the suburbs of Cabul to the gorge through which the rivers enters the city. The road to the left was taken after Dehmazung village had been passed just beyond the gorge, and the cavalry pushing on formed a cordon round Indikee. In my last letter I described the village, which General Roberts visited three days ago. It is commanded from several points on the hillside, and at one of these the two guns were posted ready to open fire if resistance were offered. There was, however, no thought of fighting: the village was taken quite by surprise, and the headmen came out in fear and trembling as General Baker and the 3rd Sikhs marched up. The headmen were briefly told that all sepoys belonging to the Afghan army must be brought out and surrendered. They were given five minutes to produce the men, the threat of a forcible search, with, perhaps, worse to follow, giving point to the request. In a very few minutes they brought forward thirty men, unarmed, and with no uniform on their backs, and these were at once made prisoners. The General had a list in which the names of certain sepoys known to be in Indikee were entered; and, upon calling this over, several were found to be missing. The maliks explained that twenty-two sepoys were absent in various directions, and promised faithfully to bring them into Sherpur when they should return. This promise was accepted, and the disarmament of the village then began. The orders were that all arms, even to the knives so commonly worn by Afghans, should be laid at the door of every house before our sepoys entered. This was done, the whole place being divided into three parts: two companies of Sikhs were sent to each section to collect the weapons. Wherever the arms were not before the doors the houses were searched, and in such a manner that but few weapons could remain hidden. Indikee having made itself so particularly obnoxious, was further punished by a fine of 1,300 maunds of grain and 800 loads of bhoosa being levied upon it. This quantity of grain and forage was ordered to be delivered in Sherpur within a week, and two headmen were taken as hostages for the due fulfilment of the bargain. In case of their failing to carry out the order, the village will be burnt to the ground. Other villages which had shared in the guilt of Indikee were then visited, and eighteen more Afghan soldiers taken. Many of these belong to the Herat regiments, and answered to their names when called upon. They fell into rank at the word of command; and, when “right about face” was called out, preparatory to marching back to Sherpur, obeyed with alacrity. All the arms taken were humbly carried into camp by the villagers, escorted by our sepoys and sowars, much to the edification of such Cabulis as were met upon the road. The raid was altogether a very successful one: and if all the towers in the Chardeh Valley are blown up as a pendant to the excursion, the villagers will have been taught a severe lesson. To-day the maliks, true to their word, brought in between twenty and thirty sepoys, many of the latter marching quietly in, and surrendering themselves as calmly as if they were our own soldiers who had overstayed their leave and expected a slight punishment. What their fate is likely to be, appears from the result of the sitting of the Military Commission to-day. Sixteen prisoners were brought up, and eleven of these will be hanged to-morrow morning. Five poor wretches, khalassies belonging to the Artillery, were released, as there was nothing to inculpate them. We seem at last to have got hold of certain sepoys who were concerned in the first outbreak in the Bala Hissar. They do not attempt to conceal their names, or those of the regiments to which they belong, and hear their sentence of death as stoically as if each man were a Spartan. It makes one exasperated to see the rank and file of these wretches being marched off to execution, while their leaders are still at large, and but few of the Cabul rabble have been brought to account. One grows sick of hanging ten common men a day; and there is already a talk of an amnesty being shortly proclaimed—only ringleaders and certain marked men being excepted. There will be no difficulty, I imagine, in the future in capturing a few score sepoys if the executions have to be begun over again, as the muster-rolls give very fully the names and residences of the sepoys. The rolls are framed somewhat on the Indian pattern, and are fairly complete. One is the crack regiment, called the “Asnider Regiment,” and these men are still at large with good rifles in their hands. Perhaps they may have courage enough to die as soldiers, fighting openly, rather than come to an end on the scaffold.
We are unhappy in our minds as to our winter line of communications, our hopes of the road to Gundamak being secured by the meeting of General Macpherson’s and General Charles Gough’s forces having suddenly dropped below zero. It is difficult to understand what has occurred: but the most important step in our recent operations has certainly been neutralized in some way. Whether it is divided authority,—General Roberts on the Cabul side being unable to give orders to General Bright on the Gundamak line so long as the latter remains senior in army rank,—or some local exigency, is not at all clear; but this much is only too plainly evident, that the force under General Charles Gough, after joining hands with our brigade at Kata Sung, four miles west of Jugdulluck, has fallen back upon Jugdulluck, while General Macpherson has marched down the Tezin river to the Lughman country. Consequently we have been cut off again from the Khyber Force for several days. We are most anxious to ensure the safety of our postal and telegraphic line through the belt of mountains which shuts us off from our reinforcements if we chance to need them. Besides, we are anxious to send our sick and wounded back to India before the full rigour of winter comes upon them here; and, with snow likely to fall early in December, there is not much time to spare. General Macpherson, on his part, has crossed the Cabul river at a point where, it is said, a pile-bridge could be easily built, and has explored the Lughman Valley at its western end. Shortness of supplies is given as his reason for leaving Kata Sung. He has found a good road running for 30 or 40 miles over nearly a hill country; but whether it will be of service is quite another matter, which may be dealt with when we have one route open. The troops with him are needed here, as one or two local punitive expeditions have to be sent out; and he has therefore been recalled. The Luttabund route is to be adopted as the one best calculated to be followed to Jugdulluck, and the Pioneers will be left behind to make it practicable. Blasting powder is being sent up to the Kotal, and the work will, it is thought, soon be accomplished. In the meantime, General Hugh Gough has left Sherpur to arrange for all the posts between Luttabund and Jugdulluck being held. There was no opposition to the advance from Gundamak beyond a few shots fired by a knot of men near Jugdulluck; the only damage they inflicted was the wounding of one of the Guides’ horses.
12th November.
The last few days have been remarkable for the trial and execution of no less than forty-nine prisoners, nearly all of whom were sepoys belonging to the Herat regiments which attacked the Residency. As already mentioned, General Baker captured forty-eight men in the Chardeh villages in his excursion of the 8th; and others were brought in by the headmen in fulfilment of their promise. In all, eighty-nine were tried by the Military Commission; and of these, eleven, twenty-eight, and ten were hanged on the 10th, 11th, and 12th instant. The remainder were released, as they were able to give a fairly satisfactory account of themselves, two only being retained, as they have promised to lead our search parties to villages where men are still lying hidden. These two men were to have been hanged this morning, and were only reprieved at the last moment. Every opportunity was given to these Afghan sepoys to explain their actions, and such lame stories as were invented were easy of disproof. Their maliks stated what men were absent from the villages, and whether they were with their regiments, or away at distant points during September and October. The muster-rolls in our possession showed the rank and regiment of the men, and in no case did the prisoners deny their identity. Such as were released were either poor wretches like gun-khalassies, or sepoys, who could show that they were nowhere near Cabul from September 1st to October 8th, and could not consequently have shared in the attack upon the Embassy, the battle of Charasia, or the fight on the Cabul Heights. These wholesale executions were mainly intended as a punishment to such as disregarded the Proclamation issued at Zerghun Shahr by General Roberts on October 3rd, and it is now thought an example, severe enough, has been made. The Afghan army, or such of it as exists, must see that we were thoroughly in earnest in threatening with death all who chose to appear as rebels against the then Amir, in whose name we were advancing. Of course the instant men came in and surrendered, putting themselves at our mercy, the task of hanging them became a very ungracious one—if they had only been guilty of contesting an advance. To-day, therefore, an amnesty was issued, under which all of this latter class were pardoned on condition of surrendering their arms. The following is the full text of the amnesty
PROCLAMATION OF NOVEMBER 12TH, 1879.
“To all whom it may concern. On the 12th of October a Proclamation was issued, in which I offered a reward for the surrender of any persons who had fought against the British troops since the 3rd of September, and had thereby become rebels against the Amir Yakub Khan. I have now received information which tends to show that some at least of those who shared in the opposition encountered by the British troops during their advance on Cabul, were led to do so by a belief that the Amir was a prisoner in my camp, and had called upon the soldiery and people of Cabul to rise on his behalf. Such persons, although enemies to the British Government, were not rebels against their own sovereign, and the great British Government does not seek for vengeance against enemies who no longer resist. It may be that few only of those who took up arms were thus led away by the statement of evil-minded men, but rather than punish the innocent with the guilty, I am willing to believe that all were alike deceived. On behalf of the British Government, therefore, I proclaim a free and complete amnesty to all persons who have fought against the British troops since the 3rd of September, provided that they now give up any arms in their possession and return to their homes. The offer of reward for the surrender of such persons is now withdrawn, and they will not, for the future, be molested in any way on account of their opposition to the British advance. But it must be clearly understood that the benefit of this amnesty does not extend to any one, whether soldier or civilian, who was concerned, directly or indirectly, in the attack upon the Residency, or who may hereafter be found in possession of any property belonging to members of the Embassy. To such persons no mercy will be shown. Further, I hold out no promise of pardon to those who, well knowing the Amir’s position in the British camp, instigated the troops and people of Cabul to take up arms against the British troops. They have been guilty of wilful rebellion against the Amir’s authority, and they will be considered and treated as rebels wherever they may be found.”
It was not to be expected that clemency would be extended to such men as joined in the actual attack upon the Residency, or to the leaders, who misled the sepoys afterwards, by declaring that the Amir was an unwilling prisoner in our hands, and was calling, from his captivity, upon all true Mussulmans to resist the British, and to release him from the hands of his own and his country’s enemies. As we have had daily to watch the string of men passing along under escort to the Bala Hissar, many a keen regret has been felt that leaders like Nek Mahomed and Kushdil Khan have not been in their ranks. The demeanour of the men hanged has, in all cases, been one of stolid indifference: they accepted their fate as a matter of course, and, when surrounded by the bayonets of the Highlanders, tried to keep up a semblance of soldierly bearing, by marching in time and keeping shoulder to shoulder. But that one remembers the bitter treachery we have come to punish, and can almost look down from the foot of the scaffold into the pit in which the bodies of our brave Guides are lying, one might feel pity for the wretches whose fanaticism has put their heads into the noose. There were no extra precautions taken, even when twenty-eight men had to be hanged; a small guard of fifty men under a commissioned officer was told off from one of the British regiments, and the prisoners were marched off in the usual way. They apparently never thought of attempting to escape; and Cabul is so cowed by the military law it is now enjoying, that its rabble population has not spirit enough left to cry “a rescue.” Nothing can be quieter than the city, which has always been so notorious for bloodshed and turbulence: the shadow of the scaffold is over it, and not one among the ruffians who throng its narrow streets, and hide in its filthy purlieus, but feels its influence. They have hitherto traded upon our known weakness—the worship of the quality of mercy,—and it is only now that they understand the new principle of retribution we have introduced into our policy. Like Pollock, General Roberts might have destroyed their bazaar and left Cabul to its fate; but whether we withdraw again or not, there will be the tale of lives taken by our hangmen still to be counted over in the city and the villages; and who knows yet what powerful names may not top the list?
The work of the Special Commission dealing with the Massacre and intrigues of the Ministers has so far progressed, that, in a few days, I believe, the report will be ready. Each of the members—Colonel Macgregor, Dr. Bellew, and Hyat Khan—is writing a report; and from the three will be framed a final one, to be submitted to the Government, with such recommendations as General Roberts and his advisers may deem fit to make. The chief interest, of course, attaches to the Amir, whose fate now hangs in the balance. That he will at least be deported to India seems beyond doubt. What punishment will be meted out to the Mustaufi, the Wazir, Yahiya Khan, and Zakariah Khan, cannot of course be estimated; but if the evidence against them of inciting the rebel regiments to continue in arms is at all clear, they ought certainly not to be spared. They see day by day how unyielding we are in carrying out the work we have undertaken; and, if guilty, they must uneasily count their beads while calculating the chances of ultimate escape. The amnesty is so framed that they do not at present come within its scope, and they cannot tell the exact evidence which has been forthcoming as to their intrigues. They are closely guarded, and all access to them will be forbidden until their sentence is pronounced. There is one prisoner in the row of tents where our captives are confined who is to be treated to-morrow to the smart punishment of fifty lashes, and his case is a peculiar one. When the Ghilzais and their allies were investing the Shutargardan, Colonel Money received a jirgah who proposed certain terms which I have before characterized as absurd. The tribes proposed, first, that the force then in Shutargardan should retire to Ali Kheyl, the Ghilzais finding carriage for their stores and giving hostages as a guarantee of good faith. This was declined, and they then made a similar proposition, giving Kushi as the destination of the troops instead of Ali Kheyl. On this also being rejected, the jirgah said that on promise of payment of two lakhs of rupees they would disperse the tribes. This was laughed at by Colonel Money and Dr. Bellew, and the jirgah were dismissed. One Ghilzai chief, losing his temper, said:—“Very well, to-morrow morning we will come and cut all your throats.” This part of the programme did not come off, and this man had afterwards the audacity to come into Camp here, no doubt to see how we were progressing. He was recognized and arrested, and to-morrow he will be sent back to his tribe well scored with the lash. He will, perhaps, use greater discretion in future. While on this matter of the Shutargardan investment, it is worth mentioning that one section of the tribes has been punished in a manner that may rather astonish their chiefs. When it was believed that the telegraph line would be permanently laid to Cabul from Ali Kheyl, large quantities of timber were purchased from local maliks, one section (the Ahmed Kheyls, I believe) supplying Rs. 6,000 worth. They had been paid half this sum; but as they broke faith by joining the other tribesmen during the late disturbances, General Roberts has sanctioned the confiscation of the Rs. 3,000 still due to them. This will be a heavy fine, and is a ready mode of punishing them. The cost of laying the line from Ali Kheyl westwards to within a few miles of Dobundi was over Rs. 20,000, and nearly all the wire and posts have been carried off by the hillmen—a costly experiment to us, which it is to be hoped will not be repeated.
We are now rejoicing in the probable opening of the road from here to Jugdulluck, as arrangements have been made by General Hugh Gough for the garrisoning of the posts. Our quarters in barracks are not quite ready, and such a sudden access of cold as that now experienced is difficult to withstand in the light tents our men have to live in. Yesterday there were signs from the early morning that some change was threatening, the sun being obscured by a haze which, in the eyes of the natives, meant snow. Late in the afternoon one of the local khak-bads, or small dust-storms, swept over Camp, and this was followed by light rain, just sufficient to lay the dust. A great fall of temperature occurred, which drove us to seek the warmth of poshteens and over-coats, and just before sunset sleet began to drift down. For about an hour it fell, not very heavily however, and soon the whole cantonment was whitened over. The hills about were all obscured by light clouds, which closed down upon the plain, and we began to fear heavy snow would fall. Fortunately, however, for our comfort, it cleared up soon after six o’clock; but a sharp frost set in, and the night was bitterly cold, water freezing even in our tents. To-day the sky was as blue and clear as in June, and the frozen sleet soon disappeared as the sun shone out. In sheltered places little patches of white are still seen, while the Pughman mountains are covered with snow. An early and severe winter is expected from this sudden change, although it is possible two or three weeks of bright genial sunshine may still be in store for us before the real winter snow-fall covers the country. A flying column, made up from General Baker’s brigade, was to have started for Ghazni on the 15th, General Roberts in person accompanying it; but it is probable that the expedition will now be postponed. It would involve great hardships to march troops between 80 and 90 miles exposed to sleet and snow storms; and as the chief object of the journey would be to secure food and forage, other means may, perhaps, be found to gain the end in view. The proclamation of an amnesty will give confidence to villagers at a distance, who may now be tempted to bring in supplies.
There has not been much excitement in Camp apart from the news of a skirmish at Doaba, in which the 67th had, at last, a chance of distinguishing themselves. We shall only gain particulars of this little fight, which has cost us four killed and five wounded, when General Macpherson comes in on the 14th.
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Chapter XII
Winter Supplies—The Forage Difficulty—Lack of Civilized Appliances and Inventions—Compressed Hay—The Sick Convoy for India—Alleged Atrocities—The Inquiry into Dr. Bourke’s Statement—An Exaggerated Description of the Charasia Battlefield—General Macpherson’s Excursion to Tagao—Attitude of the Safis—Shere Ali’s Military Road along the Northern Bank of the Cabul River—The Skirmish at Doaba—Narrow Escape of Captain Poole’s Company—Defeat of the Safis.
SHERPUR, 14th November.
The fall of sleet on the evening of the 11th led us to believe that severe weather might be setting in; but, to our surprise, the same genial days which delighted us before have returned; and after three sharp nights, in which a cheerful fire in a walled building would have been very welcome, we are hoping that winter will spare us further inclemency at least for two or three weeks. The Ghazni expedition may, I think, be looked upon as abandoned; and we are trusting to local sirdars to bring us in the large supplies of forage which we were going out to seek. Advances in hard cash are made to these men, so that they may go out with the practical evidence of our willingness to buy up all the bhoosa in the country, and from Daoud Shah downwards they promise us great things in the way of supplies. As I said in a late letter, the question of forage is the most pressing, as, once the ground is covered with snow, the scanty supply of grass which now comes in will be entirely cut off. From Kohistan, the Logar and Chardeh Valleys, and the villages in the Cabul plain eastwards to Butkhak, we have drawn some thousands of maunds;[24] but with the horses of the 9th Lancers, three native regiments, and two batteries of Artillery, as well as the mules of two mountain batteries, to be kept in good condition, and all the transport animals to be fed, the consumption is enormous. Pressed hay would he worth its weight in silver if we could only get it here; but, of course, we might as well long for sea-coal fires. One sees much written of what ought to be done by armies advancing from India into Afghanistan, and the slowness of our marches is sometimes criticized very rabidly; but the critics seem to forget that we have no railways upon our lines of communication, and that we are asked to make war in almost as rude a way as the barbaric hordes which swept to and from India centuries ago. Barring our weapons and ammunition—and even here we have been served with Gatling guns that will not work—we have but the old means of advance: the camels, mules, and ponies, which have been time-honoured carriers since the days of Alexander; and we have them in such small numbers, that the loss of even 100 is a serious matter. We feed them as the old warriors fed their beasts of burden—on such corn and forage as we can get; but whereas they appropriated every maund that was to be found, and asked no questions, we pay exorbitant prices, dealing as traders, and not as conquerors, with the people. Civilization has done this much, that it has shown there are ways by which forage for a month can be carried in so small a compass that it is but little encumbrance; but we reap no benefit from the discovery, and are thrown into a by-no-means fertile country to do as best we can with such supplies as may be forthcoming. The very hackeries which ply along the road from Jhelum to Jumrood groan out reproaches against the civilization which permits them to linger out their lives; and every grass-cutter’s pony, half hidden by his huge bundle of worthless straw, or burnt-up grass, kicks against the absurd pricks which force him to do as his ancestors did—fetch and carry bulky loads of which he himself eats nearly half. We could do mighty deeds, and march mighty distances, were it not that our transport equipment is usually x—an unknown quantity, which can never be relied upon. In the morning x may equal the equivalent of 10,000 camels; in the evening it may be 9,500; after six months’ campaigning it may be 500. We have not merely to forage for the chargers of our fighting men—we have to feed the very animals which carry the forage, and carry it often in its bulkiest form. If we had merely to do the latter, we might trust to the country, especially where the local baggage animals are used for carriage. A Cavalry Brigade that could carry its own forage—and such a brigade could be created if advantage were taken of the principle which reduces bulk to one-twentieth or even less—would be so powerful an aid to an advancing force, that delays would be almost unknown. There would be no question, as there is now, of sending back regiments to pasturing-grounds; there would be the means of sustaining them always at hand. A pony that now carries a load which a horse can eat in a day, could carry food for twenty days. A trooper could strap his forage to his saddle as he now does his gram-bag. We might take many a hint from the nomads of Central Asia—perhaps the horsemen who can travel long distances, and keep their horses always equal to the work, better than any other race in the world. The Turcoman carries with him, in the ingenious shape of small balls of food, such concentrated nourishment, that his horse never flags in a sixty-mile ride; and if he can do this in his own rude way, and be independent of passing supplies, we, with elaborate hay-presses and chemical processes, might surely put ourselves at least on his level. I have been led into this dissertation chiefly by reason of the proposed splitting up of our cavalry brigade. It is said that the 12th Bengal Cavalry will probably remain for the winter in the Jellalabad Valley, where forage is fairly plentiful; and it is also possible that another cavalry regiment will be sent from our camp here to join them. We all regret that the cavalry which has been with us during the march upon Cabul should have to be sent back even for three or four months; and yet what can be done? 150,000 maunds of bhoosa (chopped straw) is the estimate made by the Commissariat Department of the quantity of forage required from the 1st of November to the end of March, and we have only gathered in between 15,000 and 20,000 maunds. The deficiency is so great that, unless the sirdars we are now employing as purchasing agents keep their pledges, our cavalry must starve or be sent back. Besides, we have been busy in providing the army with several hundred yaboos as transport animals. These yaboos will have to be fed during the winter, in addition to the mules and camels we brought up with us from Ali Kheyl: there were not many certainly, for we did wonders in the way of removing with little carriage. It may seem trifling, with passing events, to grow eloquent upon so dry a subject as hay; but in warfare, such as we are engaged in, cavalry are so indispensable, that their position should be fairly represented. We hear of hay-presses being made for the Candahar Force, but we do not want to be encumbered with these. Could not the forage, ready compressed, be sent to us without further trouble?
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Footnote 24:
One maund = 40 seers = 80 lbs.
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The convoy of sick and wounded, which left Sherpur to-day, was made up of fifty-two Europeans, seventy-two native soldiers and followers, and eight officers. There were also a number of time-expired men, and a sufficient escort was sent to take care of the convoy as far as Butkhak, whence the 12th Bengal Cavalry and the 28th Native Infantry will be detailed to see them through the mountainous country lying between the Cabul plain and the Jellalabad Valley. All the elephants here have also been sent away to General Bright’s force, as we are not likely to want them until the spring, and they would have probably died off when the snow came. The convoy will do the distance to Peshawur by easy marches, and every precaution will be taken against possible attacks in the Passes that have to be gone through. The sick have not been sent away a day too soon, as the cold nights here are very trying to weakly men. The hospital quarters in the barracks are now ready, and are very comfortable. Such invalids as are only suffering from slight ailments are now in the rooms, the strong mud walls of which set at defiance the cold which penetrated so easily the thin canvas of the tents.
Further examination of the Luttabund route has shown that a good road can be made with very little trouble, the difficult bits near the Kotal being avoided by a slight diversion. Scarcely any blasting will be needed, and as this kind of skilled labour is generally very protracted and tiresome, the saving of much valuable time is a great consideration. The Pioneers will be enabled to return to Sherpur to finish their lines and to carry out such defensive works on the Bemaru Heights as may be thought necessary. These works will probably be on a large scale, so far as the general design goes; but the immediate work to be done will be the building of block-houses, or towers, where the picquets can be posted under shelter from the cold wind which sweeps across the ridge. Three or four tents are now pitched on the heights; but it is very trying, especially for native troops, to do sentry-go in such an exposed spot. An enemy would scarcely venture to attack the Camp from the north, as they would have to cross a level, grassy plain, on which the cavalry would have them at their mercy. The long, shallow Wazirabad lake, bordered by marshy ground, shuts in this plain to the north, a spur from the Pughman range again bounding the lake still further to the north. The maidan is now used as a polo-ground, or for giving our horses a gallop; while the lake affords wild-fowl shooting for sportsmen lucky enough to have guns and cartridges.
There has not been much to excite us in Camp lately, except two slight shocks of earthquake yesterday; and as the executions have for the present ceased, there seems falling upon us that fatal period of inactivity which always follows successful movements against an enemy who runs away after the first brush. But one unpleasant incident has occurred, and it has been made the most of. We have had a Court of Inquiry, and the subject thereof has been nothing less than “atrocities.” In a letter from the correspondent of the Civil and Military Gazette appeared a paragraph in which “a noble corps” was said to have disgraced itself by burning alive the wounded Afghans left behind by their friends on the Charasia Heights. The paragraph implied, from the context, that the 72nd Highlanders had been guilty of this cruelty; but, on inquiry being made, Dr. Bourke, the correspondent of the Lahore paper, said that, although he had not named the regiment, it was the men of the 5th Ghoorkas who had burned the Afghan wounded. This was the first General Roberts had heard of any such occurrence, as Dr. Bourke had made no report on the subject, although he had drawn a highly-coloured picture of the scene in his letters. The General at once ordered a court to assemble and to take evidence, not merely to clear the good name of the 72nd, but to investigate the charge against the Ghoorkas. The President of the Court was Major Pratt, of the 5th Punjab Infantry. Being a closed court, it has not, of course, transpired what evidence was taken; but I believe the following are the facts of the cases of cruelty said to have taken place. When the heights were cleared by the general rush of General Baker’s troops, the Afghans left their dead on the ground as well as several men wounded at close quarters. A Ghoorka was seen stooping near one of the latter; and when Dr. Bourke, with the ambulance, came up, it was found that the Afghan, who had been shot through the breast and almost disembowelled by a bayonet thrust or slash from a kookrie, had had his clothes set on fire. A box of matches was lying near the body. The man was in extremis, and was said to be insensible; and by Dr. Bourke’s orders a European soldier shot him through the head. Another Afghan lying near had also his white clothing smouldering, and he was shot in a similar way. This seems to be the plain truth about the affair, which has been exaggerated into the wholesale burning alive of wounded men. The Ghoorkas know the superstitious dread among Mussulmans of any part of their body being destroyed after death; and, on the face of it, there is the probability of a lighted match having been applied to the clothes of men seemingly dead, in order to send their souls to perdition. The passions of the Ghoorkas have also been highly inflamed by a story which reached Ali Kheyl from Cabul, that a Ghoorka, with the Guides’ escort, was led through the city streets with his face blackened, was horribly tortured, and afterwards burned alive. They believed fervently in this story, and, as I have said, they may have thought to kill the Afghans in the next world as well as this. No one in the force would seek to be an apologist for such cruel acts as burning alive, deliberately and systematically, the wounded men of an enemy even so cruel as are the Afghans; but the reflections cast upon the 72nd Highlanders and upon General Roberts himself, as letting such acts go unpunished, are as unjust as they are absurd. The General knew nothing whatever of the incident until his attention was called to it in the newspapers, and his action then was prompt enough. I understand that he has now called upon Dr. Bourke to give his reasons for not reporting the matter officially.
16th November.
Yesterday Sir Frederick Roberts and Brigadier-General Baker rode over to Butkhak, where Brigadier-General Macpherson is encamped after his late excursion in the Tagao country. There have been so many movements of troops in the Cabul plain lately, that the only escort the General thought it necessary to take with him was six sowars of the 5th Punjab Cavalry. Since the first brigade marched to Butkhak on the 1st instant, the villagers in the plain and in the lower Logar Valley, which runs down from the Sang-i-Nawishta defile, have seen small parties of cavalry constantly on the move backwards and forwards, and within the last few days have watched the 23rd Pioneers encamped on the banks of the Logar and the long convoy of sick and wounded march along on the way to India. There have been so many evidences of our presence, that any unruly tribesmen or disbanded sepoys have wisely kept very quiet. The road may be considered safe, even for a solitary traveller; the telegraph wire has hitherto been scrupulously respected; and our foraging parties have never been molested.
We were, of course, anxious to learn some particulars of the late skirmish, in which a company of the 67th had come to close quarters with the Safis; and, leaving the invalid camp, we passed up to the head-quarters of the 1st Brigade near the village walls. Sir Frederick Roberts heard the details of the affair from General Macpherson as well as an account of the work done by the Brigade in opening up communication with the Khyber Force. I may here incidentally state that Sir F. Roberts has now received the local rank of Lieutenant-General, and commands all the troops in Eastern Afghanistan, Jumrood being the point in the Peshawur direction to which his power of control extends. Some severe strictures have been passed upon those who have hitherto had the supreme control of the force operating from Peshawur, and the answer given to these is that General Bright’s advanced Brigade was a “flying column.” If that were so, how was it that it took twenty-four days to “fly” from Jellalabad to Kata Sung, a distance of about sixty miles? Surely its wings must have been clipped by Transport or Commissariat scissors, in which case it would cease to be a flying column at all, and would drop down to the lower level of a sedate brigade moving two and a half miles a day, sleeping comfortably in tents, and living on the fat of the land. But in that case there should have been supplies sufficient to have justified the stay of the troops at Kata Sung, and so to have secured the road. General Macpherson had of course no supplies with his force, as everything is being gathered into Sherpur for the winter; and he could not stay at Kata Sung, but had to try and find food north of the Cabul river. Here accordingly came in the story of the reconnaissance northward into Tagao and of the collision with the Safis. The bed of the Cabul river lies about ten miles north of Kata Sung, Sei Baba, and the Luttabund Kotal, its direction being due east and west. From the vast pile of mountains which shut out the Cabul plain from Gundamak high spurs run down towards the river, and among these the Tezin stream, with two or three small tributaries, finds its way. When General Macpherson found that the force he had come to meet at Kata Sung had withdrawn, he turned off to the north, and proceeding down the bed of the Tezin stream for six or seven miles, reached the banks of the Cabul. He encamped at Sirobi, and on the 8th, resolved to cross the river to the village of Naghloo, on the opposite bank, two miles higher up. The natives had reported that a good road was in existence on the northern side of the Cabul from that point, and that it had been regularly used as the military convoy route between Cabul and Jellalabad. General Macpherson found, without much difficulty, a ford over the Cabul, which is here a stream with a strong current travelling very rapidly on account of the descent of 4,000 feet, which the river makes from Cabul to Jellalabad. Like all fords, however, in the Cabul river, this crossing-place was found to have its dangers, the least divergence from the narrow roadway—if the word can be used where there is no dry land—plunging men and horses into deep water. The fatal experience of the 10th Hussars at Jellalabad last spring was remembered, and ropes were stretched across the stream by which the men were guided. This marked the road to be taken and minimized the danger. On the evening of the 8th half the force had crossed to Naghloo without any accident, except that Lieutenants Forbes and Macgregor, of the 92nd Highlanders, acting as orderly officers to the General, were swept away by the current. By a little hard swimming they managed to reach the bank again. The troops bivouacked without tents. On the following day a reconnaissance was made from Naghloo eastwards, towards the Lughman country, Lieutenant Manners Smith, Assistant Quartermaster-General, going out with a few cavalry to examine the district. The orders given to the troops were not to fire upon any of the local tribesmen, unless the latter first opened fire; and this order was rigorously carried out. Working down on the left bank of the Cabul, a kotal was gained eight or ten miles from Camp, from which a splendid view of the Lughman Valley was obtained. There was a track right through this, and this was undoubtedly the road used by the late Shere Ali for his military convoys. It seemed to traverse an almost level country; and except that to use it would involve two bridges—one near Naghloo and the other at Jellalabad,—there can be no question that it would he far easier than viâ Jugdulluck, Gundamak, and Futtehabad. The country, however, north of the Cabul is known to be inhabited by Safis—converted Kafirs, whose fanaticism exceeds that of almost any other Mahomedans. Tagao, in which they live, boasts of several fertile valleys, watered by the Panjshir, Tagao, and Uzbin rivers, and might furnish supplies if the people could be reduced to obedience. Their chief is one Usman Khan,[25] a noted robber; and of the temper of his followers we have already had an example. When the reconnoitring party were looking into the Lughman Valley, some seventy Safis, all armed with jhezails and swords, appeared a few hundred yards off, and threatened to attack the troops if they proceeded further into their country. As they did not open fire, no notice was taken of their threats, and Lieutenant Smith returned to Naghloo in peace. On the next day, the 10th, a foraging party of one company of the 67th Foot, under Captain Poole, was ordered to march up the Cabul river to a village some six or seven miles to the west of Naghloo. This village is in close proximity to Doaba, at the junction of the Panjshir and Cabul rivers. The villagers near the Cabul are not Safis; and as they had expressed their willingness to sell grain and forage, only a small party of men were sent out in charge of about 100 camels and mules. The road taken was found to be rather difficult, a narrow defile close to the river having to be passed through, four miles from Naghloo. After passing through this, the narrow camel-track passed over a small semicircular piece of open ground, the hills falling away to the north. At the western end was a second defile, with a high ridge running up to the right and shutting out from view the village beyond. When Captain Poole was crossing the open with thirty men, some distance in front of the baggage animals, he met a number of villagers hastening along with their household goods and cattle. They were evidently panic-stricken and shouted wildly to Captain Poole, but as he did not understand their language he pushed on to the second defile. It appears that what they really said was that the Safis were in force over the defile, had attacked their village, burned their houses, and murdered some of the inhabitants. Upon getting through the second defile, Captain Poole saw on the slope below some 800 or 1,000 armed men, who immediately opened fire. The thirty men of the 67th returned the fire and checked the enemy, who had tried to rush forward. It was important to keep them back until the baggage animals with their small guard of twenty-four men could retrace their steps through the first defile. After firing for some time, our men observed 300 or 400 Safis creeping round over the hill to the north, with the evident intention of getting into the open plain and cutting off all retreat. The position of the handful of men then became so hazardous, that Captain Poole ordered them to fall back, and for an hour and a half he faced towards the Safis, who advanced to within 40 yards. It was in the open that our men began to drop, although one had been shot dead in the defile. Cover was taken under the river bank, which was three or four feet above the level of the stream; and though the enemy opened fire from the southern bank, they could not do much mischief. The steadiness of the soldiers, who used their Martinis with good effect, was remarkable throughout, one or two incidents being worth recording. The crack shot of the regiment, Corporal Woolley, was with the company, and his practice was wonderfully good. He was unfortunately shot through, the leg, but still continued firing. One of his comrades, on being shot down, fell into the river, and struggled hard to gain the bank. Two Safis ran down to cut him up; and these men Corporal Woolley shot before they could make their way to the wounded man. The latter was so exhausted by his efforts that he fell back, and was drowned in the stream. Corporal Woolley also brought down two standard-bearers. The fighting was so close that Captain Poole could not carry off his dead (two others were killed in the open besides the men in the defile); and the Safis mutilated them in a horrible way. Their eyes were gouged out, and faces cut to pieces by sharp knives, so that the bodies could scarcely be identified. While fighting across the open, Captain Poole was struck by a bullet in the calf of the leg, and four other soldiers were wounded. One, who was too badly hit to be able to walk, was put upon a camel, and carried safely away. Lieutenant Carnegy kept the men together after his Captain had been hit; and although eight men and an officer out of fifty-six had been either killed or wounded, the others never wavered. A sowar had galloped back to Naghloo for assistance, and General Macpherson sent out at once a squadron of the 12th Bengal Cavalry and four mountain guns; 150 of the 67th, and a company of the 28th Punjab Native Infantry following. The cavalry arrived at the trot, but the defile was so blocked by the baggage animals, that to get through was impossible. The sowars dismounted and went up the hill to use their carbines, and the guns, also arriving, went up the crest under escort of the 28th and one company of the 67th, under Major Baker, and opened fire at 1,000 yards into the mass of the Safis below. The shells had a wholesome effect upon the enemy, and volleys from the Martinis and Sniders were also fired at long ranges. One man of the 28th was killed by a stray bullet. The other company of the 67th, under Lieutenant Atkinson, went along the river bed, and the enemy then retreated behind a sungar on the ridge to the north of the second defile, and covering their right flank. The mountain guns came into action again at 1,700 yards, having been brought down into the plain, and Major Baker marched over the hills to take the sungar in flank. Lieutenant Atkinson advancing at the same time, the Safis fled towards the Doaba, the cavalry pursuing them for six miles. Their loss must have been heavy, as they left many of their dead behind; seven bodies were found in one nullah. The mutilated bodies of three men of the 67th were recovered: the fourth had been swept down the river. The whole affair proves how great a risk small foraging parties run in an unexplored country, where the temper of the inhabitants is uncertain. It is true no resistance was expected; but the fanaticism of the Safis is so well known, that extra precautions should have been taken. The difficult ground to be traversed also put a small body of infantry, encumbered with baggage animals, at a great disadvantage. That one-sixth of Captain Poole’s company was put out of action is too significant to be lightly regarded.
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Footnote 25:
Afterwards killed on the Asmai Heights on December 14th.
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Chapter XIII
The Report of the Commission of Inquiry upon the Massacre—The Suspicion against the Amir Yakub Khan—The Report forwarded to the Government of India—Probable Deportation of the Amir to India—Gatherings of Tribesmen at Ghazni—The Necessity of collecting Supplies for the Winter—The Khyber Line of Communications—No Supplies obtainable from Peshawur—Slowness of the Khyber Advance—Projected Expedition to Ghazni—The Reason of its falling through—The Strength of the Army of the Indus—General Baker’s Excursion to the Maidan Valley—The Chardeh Valley in Winter—Sir F. Roberts joins General Baker-The Destruction of Bahadur Khan’s Villages in the Darra Narkh.
SHERPUR, 18th November.
One part of the important work which the British force came to Cabul to fulfil has been done: the Commission appointed to inquire into the circumstances of the massacre of our Envoy and the after-events, culminating in the battle of Charasia, has completed its task, and to-day the report was duly signed by Colonel Macgregor, Dr. Bellew, and Mahomed Hyat Khan. For the past two days Sir F. Roberts has had the report before him, and has telegraphed a summary of it to the Government of India, who will thus be put in possession of its main features several days before the text of the document can reach them. In due course the Government will, no doubt, furnish a connected narrative of the events of the early part of September, and the world at large will then be able to judge on what basis of proof our suspicions against Yakub Khan and his most favoured ministers have rested.[26] The Commission began examining witnesses on the 18th of October; so that it is exactly a month to-day since the first step was taken towards compiling the mass of evidence now understood to have been recorded. I have before pointed out very fully how difficult was the work which lay before the Commissioners: there was scarcely any clue to be laid hold of which would lead them direct to their chief point—the cause of the outbreak of the Herat regiments; and they had to take such witnesses as were forthcoming, and to trust to later evidence to clear away the darkness in which they were at first groping. The consideration shown to the Amir seemed, to the suspicious minds of the Cabulis, a sign which foreboded his future restoration, or that of his near relatives; and those who were well inclined to us shrank from declaring their partisanship too boldly, for fear of after-consequences, when the Barakzai family should again be all-powerful in the country. There was a slight dissipation of this feeling when the Proclamation of October 28th was issued, announcing Yakub Khan’s voluntary abdication, and ordering all chiefs in Afghanistan to look to the Commander of the British force at Cabul for their authority in future; but we are known to be so eccentric a people that there still lurked uneasiness in many minds, and mouths were sealed that might reasonably have been expected to be open. The actual presence of the late sovereign in our Camp—even though he was known to be under a close guard—was too powerful an influence to be easily swept away: if he had been hurried away to India in disgrace, the atmosphere of doubt and uncertainty would have cleared up. But our ideas of justice are too strict to be warped by passionate anger, and it was resolved to give Yakub Khan as fair a chance of defending himself as he could possibly expect. That he lost his personal liberty by listening to foolish councillors, who thought he might gain something by flight, was nothing to us. One cannot always guard a man against his own stupidity. Having, then, to keep Yakub Khan with us, we had to do as best we could in gaining means of judging what were his relations with the men who stood forth as leaders of the rebel army, and how far he had sympathized with their plans. In endeavouring to trace out the palace intrigues which Nek Mahomed, Kushdil Khan, and others had set on foot, the Commission had often to rely upon men themselves tainted with suspicion; and when this was the case the statements had to be carefully weighed and critically compared with facts which were attested beyond doubt. To dwell, as I have dwelt before, upon the strong point of an Afghan, and the strongest of a Barakzai—the capacity for lying—would be merely to repeat an old story: the lies might contain in them a germ of truth shining out as a silent protest against the mass of falsehood; and many of these germs have, after careful nursing, borne such fruit, that very tangible results have been arrived at. In spite of the religious antipathy always manifested by Mussulmans against Christians, increased a thousandfold when it is thought a Mussulman’s life is in danger; in the face of a strong feeling against the restoration of a Barakzai Amir on the one hand, and of the feudal reverence shown towards the dynasty on the other; in silent but cautious calculation of those opposing influences, the Commission felt its way forward. Such men as professed friendship for us were invited to tell us all they knew, and that all seemed so little that it was disheartening to listen to it; such others as were Yakub Khan’s faithful followers were asked to give their version of events, and their garbled stories were just as disappointing. Towards the close of the inquiry, however, there was more tangible matter to be used as a lever by which to force disclosures; and I believe that such fair evidence as will fully justify Yakub Khan’s deportation to India was obtained. That it will justify more I cannot venture to hope, and I must guard myself against misconception by saying that officially no sign has been given as to the conclusions of the Commission. There are inferences which observant men cannot fail to draw from little episodes in a camp-life so limited as this, and the rigorous attention paid to the safe-keeping of Yakub Khan is but one in a string of collateral circumstances which have been interesting us since the Proclamation in the Bala Hissar and the arrest of the Wazir and his fellow-ministers. We may be all wrong in our surmises as to what will occur: there is only the charmed circle of three, who have had to shape the conclusions now before the Government of India, in which speculation may be safe; but we believe in our prescience, and are proportionately happy. The final decision on so important a step as the punishment of a sovereign supposed to have been guilty of treachery—whether of the blackest kind, or merely of the nature arising from pusillanimity and indecision—must rest with the highest authorities; and if we were tempted to chafe at our helplessness in having the knowledge of all that has transpired withheld from us, we should be consoled at once by the thought that it is the voice of the Government alone which can pronounce the final sentence. That the Commission will have spoken freely, and not have shrunk from any startling conclusions it may have been driven to, I am fully convinced—they are not the men for half measures who have composed it—and in the full expectation that their recommendations will be carried out, even if the end is more than usually bitter, all of us who have sojourned before Cabul since we camped on Siah Sung Ridge, on 8th October, are content to rest until everything is made known.
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Footnote 26:
Contrary to expectation, no such narrative has ever been published.
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The latest arrivals in Camp are Mahomed Syud, Governor of Ghazni, and Faiz Mahomed, the Afghan General, whose name became so familiar when Sir Neville Chamberlain’s Mission was turned back in the Khyber. Faiz Mahomed was then in command at Ali Musjid, and his interview with Cavagnari just below the fortress is matter of history. He does not seem to have shared in the rebellion, and his adherence to Yakub Khan was never shaken. Mahomed Syud was compelled to leave Ghazni, as he found himself powerless to control the local moollahs, who have been preaching a jehad on their own account, and have gathered together several thousand tribesmen from the villages in the district. There are but few trained sepoys in their ranks, and, although they have made the road between Ghazni and the more northern districts very unsafe, their efforts are too insignificant to be at present seriously regarded.
21st November.
“Nae, nae! I’ll nae fa’ out till I’ve washed ma’ hands in th’ Caspian!” These were the words, not of any veteran soldier looking forward to crossing bayonets with the Russians, but of a plucky little drummer boy, of the 92nd Highlanders, when toiling painfully along the road to Cabul. The lad had his heart in the right place at any rate; and if the strength of an army is to be judged by its marching powers, we have rare material in our ranks. It is a long cry from Cabul to the Caspian; but the drummer boy may have many years of soldiering before him; and if ever the Gordon Highlanders form up on the shores of Russia’s inland sea, to that boy should belong the honour of leading the van. But we are only at Cabul, and it now seems beyond doubt that we shall not advance any further this year. The winter has come down upon us with a suddenness that we little expected from the mildness of the last season; and 20° of frost have warned us that bivouacking out would be nearly impossible for well-clad soldiers, and would be certain death to hundreds of camp-followers. The news of the disturbances on the Ghazni Road may, perhaps, call forth the remark, that after Cabul had been captured, and the country around cowed into order, a rapid march to Ghazni should have been ordered. There is much virtue in sudden and striking displays of force in an enemy’s country, particularly when the enemy is disorganized by defeat, and is debating as to the possibility of waging guerilla warfare. But there are considerations which must override even rapidity of action, and the first of these is the provision of supplies on which an army can subsist when far removed from its base of action. Cabul was practically in our possession on the 9th of October, though the formal march into the Bala Hissar did not take place until three days later; and our cavalry and spies had shown us that no organized resistance was being prepared within many miles of the capital. The rebel regiments had melted away; the city people were cowering in abject submission; and the local tribes had seen that their day had not come and were once more in their homesteads, nursing their wrath and their jhezails until the Kafirs should be delivered into their hands. Sir. F. Roberts was at this time quite cut off from India, so far as a connected line of communication went; the Shutargardan post was the only link between Cabul and Kurram, and that was beset by an army of hill-men. From that direction he might hope, by relieving the garrison, to get one convoy through; but beyond that point he could not go. The great height of the Shutargardan Pass precluded all hope of keeping troops there during the winter. He had come from Ali Kheyl with but a few days’ provisions; and it was plain that, unless supplies came by way of the Khyber, the army must rely upon the country for food for its 18,000 soldiers and followers. That one might have reasonably expected a long string of baggage animals to be moving westwards from Peshawur at the end of October did not seem so preposterous as men with General Bright’s column would now have us believe. To say that Peshawur was swept clean of all transport animals for Kurram, is begging the question. The Kurram Valley Force was only half-equipped when it began the advance upon Cabul, and northern India still held many thousands of mules, donkeys, camels, and their kind. We hoped that some of the energy our own Commander had shown would have been displayed in the “Army of the Indus,” and that a few troops at least would have kept pace with us, or, say, have moved on a parallel line five marches in rear. If this had been done, and a well-equipped brigade of 2,500 men had been pushed forward to Jugdulluck, the massing of 12,000 men in rear might have been postponed—for a few months, say,—and some of the transport (swallowed up by regiments who will never be wanted west of Peshawur) then liberated. But to look to the Khyber for supplies was soon found to be an expensive amusement. The troops would starve before a seer of atta or grain passed Jumrood. We could live from hand-to-mouth for a week or two; but there were the four months of winter to be thought of; and it became merely a question of arithmetic whether a brigade strong enough to march to Ghazni could be spared, with all its equipment of baggage animals and followers, and at the same time four months’ supplies could be bought up and swept into our Camp by those left behind at Cabul. There seemed just a chance of this being done, if our broken reed in the Jellalabad Valley could be propped fairly straight for a few weeks. The work of collecting grain, forage, and all other supplies, was begun in earnest; and we resigned ourselves to hard labour until the troops from the Shutargardan should come in, and our communications viâ Jugdulluck be well established. Expeditions to Kohistan and Ghazni were looked upon as certain of accomplishment in the near future. We knew that Jellalabad had been occupied by the advanced brigade of General Bright’s force on October 12th, and it was only sixty miles from that post to the point beyond Jugdulluck, where they would join hands with the Cabul Army. The end of October would surely see them within a few marches of us. But it had been apparent from the first that drag-ropes were upon the “Army of the Indus,” and that every tug forward made by Brigadier Charles Gough was responded to by a double tug behind. The end of the month came; the convoys from the Shutargardan were well on their way, the troops under Brigadier Hugh Gough had also started; and the Jugdulluck route seemed about to be opened. On 1st November Brigadier Macpherson was at Butkhak, and four days later he shook hands with General Bright at Kata Sung. Then it was decided at head-quarters here that a force should visit Ghazni. The mass of our supplies were being stored away in Sherpur; General Macpherson could march his brigade back after garrisoning Luttabund and Butkhak; Cabul would not be denuded of troops; and from Sherpur to Peshawur the road would be guarded by an overwhelming force. But the programme went all wrong: the broken reed, after being straightened for twenty-four hours, failed us. The Khyber advanced brigade had no supplies; General Macpherson had to cross into Tagao to feed his force; and we, in Sherpur, saw the 15th November—the day fixed for our departure for Ghazni—come and go, and still the army remained stationary. The weather, too—an element that can never be despised in our calculations in a semi-barren country like Afghanistan—had punished our delay by declaring against us. Snow and sleet fell in and around Cabul, and no man knew when the next storm might come. So the Ghazni expedition fell through; and if the ruffians who are now trying to make capital out of our failure to visit the place, succeed in their efforts to cry a jehad, the blame for any mischief that may ensue cannot be thrown upon the Cabul Army, but upon the short-sighted policy which could leave it to its own resources, while nominally moving a supporting force in a parallel line in order to secure its alternative communications. Foreign military critics have reflected severely upon the want of skill shown in the plan of the campaign, and have condemned the rashness of the Shutargardan-Cabul advance, without support from the Khyber. But the supports were said to be there, and General Roberts could not know that they would be steadily kept back, and would be unable to take up their share of the alternative road a month after he had captured the position they were both supposed to be converging upon. Supports which travel at the rate of two or three miles a day are worse than useless.
When it is considered what the numerical strength of the Khyber supporting column is, one cannot understand the timidity of the advance. There may have been tribes in front, in flank, and in rear; but so there were on the Shutargardan route, and tribes far more capable of mischief than Afridis and Shinwaris. Yet the menace at Budesh Kheyl, Ali Kheyl, the Shutargardan, and on either flank at Charasia, did not check the forward movement of an army half the strength of that supposed to have been put in motion from Peshawur simultaneously with the advance from the Kurram side. Looking at General Bright’s force at the end of October, we find that, inclusive of troops at Nowshera and Peshawur, he had under his orders over 16,000 men, viz., British troops: 148 officers and 4,287 men; Native troops: 147 British officers and 11,795 men. These included five batteries of artillery and one mountain battery, and six cavalry regiments, three British and three Native. Out of the total, two batteries were in Peshawur; and there must also be subtracted the following regiments, which had not crossed the old frontier:—11th Bengal Lancers (356), part of the 17th Bengal Cavalry (338), 1-17th Foot (443), 1-25th (715), part of 51st (209), 1st Native Infantry (774), 22nd Native Infantry (638), and 39th Native Infantry (609). Deducting all these, there was left a force of 11,800 men actually moving on, or garrisoning the Peshawur-Gundamak line; supports equal, it might have been supposed, to any work required of them. That there were conflicting ideas as to the object with which such a body of troops had been sent from India, must have been apparent even to a superficial observer; but upon whom the responsibility of playing with such an army rests, no one here pretends to say. The local rank of Lieutenant-General, which has at last been given to Sir F. Roberts, brings these 11,800 men under his command, and their future movements are likely to be directed in sympathy with the advanced army at Cabul. For the next few months they will probably be required to do little more than keep the road; but during the winter their transport equipment and commissariat arrangements—defects in which are said to have been the chief cause of their tardy movements—will have to be so far put on a footing of efficiency that, if the necessity arises in the spring for the Cabul Army continuing its march westwards, they will be able to keep pace with its movements. There are good men and tried soldiers enough in the Khyber Force to do all that is required, if they are allowed scope for their energies, and are not trammelled and crippled at every step by those influences in the background, which I have already described as being “drag-ropes” upon their freedom of action. General Roberts has now in his command—that of Eastern Afghanistan—two divisions of 8,000, and 11,800 men, respectively: in all, nearly 20,000 troops, whose movements he controls from his headquarters at Sherpur. Matters of detail on the Khyber side are left, as before, to local commanders. I have dwelt at length upon the shortcomings of the Peshawur column, not so much because very serious results have followed its laggard advance, but as showing how helpless the small force here would have been if, in case of a check, it had looked for support to “the Army of the Indus.”
General Macpherson’s brigade returned to Sherpur cantonments yesterday, having left at Luttabund 300 of the 23rd Pioneers and half the 28th Punjab Native Infantry. Before the brigade marched in, a strong body of troops had been warned for service, their destination being the district of Maidan, twenty-five miles distant on the Ghazni Road, where large supplies of grain and bhoosa are said to have been collected for us by the sirdars employed to purchase it on our account. Over 100,000 maunds of bhoosa are still wanted to complete our winter supply; and as the villagers have not sufficient carriage to bring in their supplies so long a distance, we must needs go out ourselves. Every available baggage animal will be employed for the next week or ten days in carrying in this forage; and as there are rumours innumerable of gatherings on the Ghazni Road further south, it has been determined to run no risk with reference to our valuable mules and yaboos. A string of between 2,000 and 3,000 animals needs to be well protected, and the brigade which marched out this morning under General Baker was therefore very strong. It was made up as follows:—500 of the 92nd Highlanders; 400 of the 3rd Sikhs; 400 of the 5th Punjab Infantry; two guns, G-3, Royal Artillery; four guns Kohat Mountain Battery; one squadron 9th Lancers, two squadrons 5th Punjab Cavalry, and two squadrons of the 14th Bengal Lancers. The display of so large a force half-way to Ghazni is sure to have an excellent effect upon the surrounding country. Sir F. Roberts rides out to-morrow to join General Baker at Maidan.
A Divisional order was issued to-night, directing the public reading of an order of the Commander-in-Chief dismissing Subadar Mahomed Karim Khan, 1st Punjab Infantry, from the service for having failed in his duty to the Queen-Empress on the occasion of the attack upon the Residency. This man is a Logari, and was on furlough at Cabul in September. On the morning of the outbreak he was in the Residency, and after the lull following the first collision of the Herat troops with the Guides—while the Afghans went for their arms—he was sent with a message to the Amir by Sir Louis Cavagnari. This he does not seem to have delivered with the spirit that might have been expected from a soldier in our service; and afterwards, when Gholam Nubbi, Cavagnari’s chuprasse, found money and horses for him to carry the news of the disaster to the British Camp at Ali Kheyl, he behaved in a dastardly way. He changed clothes with Gholam Nubbi and started out, but only went as far as Beni Hissar. There he stayed for two days, and then returned to Cabul, where he hid himself for five days in the Kizilbash quarter. Afterwards he quietly made his way to his own village; and, upon our troops appearing at Kushi, came into camp and told some wonderful stories of what he had done. These were afterwards proved to be false, and the Military Commission when trying prisoners found that his conduct had been really that of a poltroon. They recommended his dismissal from the service, and he has now been summarily discharged, all arrears of pay being forfeited. This is another striking instance of the shifty and untrustworthy nature of our Pathan soldiers, for Karim Khan was an old native officer.
CAMP MAIDAN, GHAZNI ROAD, 24th November.
The Lieutenant-General Commanding is now out on a visit to the force under Brigadier-General Baker, which is collecting supplies of forage from the villages along the Ghazni Road. Leaving Brigadier-General Macpherson in command at Sherpur, Sir F. Roberts, accompanied by his personal Staff and Colonel Macgregor, Chief of the Staff, with a small escort of ten men of the 14th Bengal Lancers, rode through the Cabul gorge on the afternoon of the 22nd, and, following the road which traverses the Chardeh Valley, made for the village of Argandeh, about sixteen miles away. The Chardeh Valley, which we passed through, gave evidence on all sides of that fertility which has earned for it the name of the “Garden of Cabul;” but it is so late in the year that only autumn tints mark the fields on either side. Here and there the young wheat is shooting up, but the small green blades are scarcely strong enough to do more than chequer the general area of brownness. The long lines of willows and poplars which line the hundreds of watercourses threading the valley, are mere skeletons of trees; their leaves rustling down in eddying circles as the cold wind sweeps blusteringly from the snowy tops of the Pughman Hills. The valley is shut in on all sides by high mountain ranges, the hills which guard Cabul from approach on the west seeming to rise perpendicularly from the plain. The range above Indikee village is overtopped by the sheer cliffs which dominate the plain between Zahidabad and Charasia, and these are already covered with snow, which gleams out in startling whiteness above the barren rocks in the foreground. Far away to the north lies the Hindu Kush, with its long undulating sky-line similarly snow-laden, the lower intermediate hills of Kohistan being still mere brown masses jostling each other in grand confusion. Looking towards Bamian the view is bounded scarcely ten miles away by the Pughman spur, which boasts of several lofty peaks rising in sullen grandeur from the hills about Argandeh. For fully twelve miles, or about as far as Kila Kazi, the road is an extremely good one; stones, the curse of Afghanistan, being few and far between. After this the dry bed of a snow-fed stream has frequently to be crossed or followed, and boulders are not uncommon. Guns, however, could be got along without much trouble, and if necessary a new track on a higher level, across the cultivated land, could be laid out. The road ascends gradually the whole way, and when near Argandeh a kotal is gained, about a mile and a half across and two or three miles long. It is now a bare plain without tree or shrub, but for the most part is under cultivation, the fields of course lying fallow during the winter. To the right or north the hills are rather precipitous, and in a sheltered curve at their base the village of Argandeh lies. It is fully a mile from the road, and all about it are terraced fields said to yield magnificent crops of wheat and barley. The high pitch to which irrigation attains in Afghanistan is strikingly exemplified in this district, the water-channels being so arranged that the distribution of the water is admirable.
Sir Frederick Roberts rested for the night at Argandeh, and yesterday morning rode on to Maidan. Striking the Ghazni Road a mile from Argandeh, we followed its course over the kotal and soon began to descend. The hills on either side were as bare as any in Afghanistan, and the plain between them was only partially cultivated. After about four miles a chowki (watch-tower) was reached on a little rise, and looking to the south we saw the district of Maidan stretching before us. It is a beautiful valley, landlocked on every side, the Cabul river running through it about a mile from the foot of the western hills. The valley must be at least four miles across; and, with the exception of low rolling downs, covered with stones and rocks, for about a mile on its eastern flank is as flat as its name, Maidan (open plain), implies. Twenty or thirty walled enclosures and villages on the banks of the Cabul stream stand out from amid poplars, willows, and plane trees, which fringe the banks of the sparkling little river, and for many square miles nothing is seen but endless corn-fields, each with its little boundary of mud, along which the water slowly wanders as it does its work of irrigation. The road falls rapidly from the chowki, and a few hundred yards below bifurcates, the main route to Ghazni going straight to the south over the rolling downs I have mentioned, and a bridle-path leading down to the villages of the plain. General Baker’s camp is pitched at Naure Falad, two miles from the chowki, down in the plain near the first of the fortified enclosures, its rear being guarded by a high rocky ridge. From the summit of this a splendid view of Maidan is obtained, and the extraordinary fertility of the valley fully appreciated. To the west the ridge runs sharply down into the plain, and the valley is there narrowed to half a mile, but it opens out again to the north among the hills. The main road to Bamian, which strikes off from the Ghazni Road before the chowki in the kotal is reached, runs across this part of the valley and enters the Ispekhawk Pass, a few miles further on.
Yesterday afternoon a small party of cavalry were fired upon in the Darra Narkh, a valley running in the Bamian direction, and to-day Bahadur Khan, who was responsible for the action, and who is known to be harbouring Afghan soldiers, has been visited and punished. He had already given much trouble. General Baker, since his arrival in Maidan, has found much difficulty in inducing the maliks of the villages of the district to bring in corn and bhoosa. They have given the tribute grain and forage readily enough, but have evaded furnishing the amount we required in addition to this. Every maund was paid for at a forced rate, which, I may state, was far higher than the normal prices; but the village headmen hung back, and, though profuse in promises, made but little effort to meet our wants. Several of them were very insolent in their bearing, and no doubt thought to worry us out by their procrastination. But General Baker is not the stamp of man to have his orders disobeyed, and by confining some of the maliks to the camp for a few days, he had gradually brought them to their senses. One malik, however, trusting to the obscure valley in which he lived, wherein Europeans had never been known to penetrate, was obstinate. This was Bahadur Khan, whose fort is about eight miles from the Maidan villages, along the branch road which leads to Bamian. He not only refused to sell any of his huge store of grain and forage, but insolently declined to come into camp. He was known to have great influence among the tribesmen in his neighbourhood, and it was reported that some sepoys of the Ardal regiments were living under his protection. When Sir F. Roberts heard of the contumacy of this malik, he agreed with General Baker that it would be well to fetch him in by force, and at the same time to arrest any sepoys found in his villages. To accomplish this double object the cavalry were sent out yesterday, with the result already stated, that they were fired upon by a large body of men, including some 200 sepoys armed with Sniders. It was necessary to make an example of Bahadur Khan, and at the same time to break up the tribal gathering, which, if left alone, might grow to serious proportions. Our foraging parties would probably have been roughly handled in scattered villages, all of which boast of towers and fortified enclosures, if the rumour had been allowed to circulate that our cavalry had been driven back.
Tents having been struck at daybreak, the baggage of the force was packed up and placed within a fort near the Cabul river, under a guard of 300 men, drawn equally from the 92nd Highlanders, 3rd Sikhs, and 5th Punjab Infantry, with a squadron of the 14th Bengal Lancers and a troop of the 9th Lancers. The two guns of 9-3[prev G-3], R.H.A., were also left behind, as the road to the villages was known to be difficult for wheeled guns. The troops which marched out were 400 of the 92nd, 300 of the 3rd Sikhs, 300 of the 5th N.I., a troop of the 9th Lancers, a squadron of the 14th B.L., and four guns of the Kohat Mountain Battery. General Baker was in command of this compact little column, which was not encumbered with transport animals, as a rapid march was intended. Sir F. Roberts, with Colonel Macgregor, also rode out with his personal escort. It was bitterly cold in the early morning, and all but the swiftest running streams were coated over with ice. The troops carried with them one day’s cooked provisions, but were otherwise in light marching order. A point was made for a little to the south-west, where the Darra Narkh stream falls into the Cabul river, and then a due westerly course was followed up the narrow valley through which the former stream runs. The usual mountainous country was seen on either hand, high hills closing down on the valley, and presenting treeless slopes barren of all verdure. The two rivers had to be crossed by fords, and the men went through the icy-cold water as carelessly as if wading a stream in summer. The sepoys stripped off their putties, and made light of the floating ice which barked their shins, while the Highlanders in their kilts seemed rather to enjoy the bracing cold. The road was fairly well-defined and ran through cultivated fields, with an occasional fortified homestead or country villa relieving the monotony of the landscape. Information was brought from time to time of the movements of Bahadur Khan, it being at first stated that he had 2,000 or 3,000 men ready to meet us. About seven miles from the camp the road was commanded by a high ridge on the left, and beyond this, we were told, lay the open valley in which the cavalry had been attacked. This ridge was at its highest point 800 or 1,000 feet above the roadway, and on the previous evening had been lined with men. Now it appeared quite deserted, and the cavalry swept round it and waited in a friendly village until the infantry could come up. A local malik volunteered the news that Bahadur Khan and his followers had taken all their movable property away during the night and had fled to the hills. When the Lancers first appeared round the ridge and pushed forward into the horseshoe-shaped valley, they saw fifty or sixty men on some low hills to the north, a gunshot from Bahadur Khan’s chief fort; and as these moved down the slopes, it seemed probable that a body of tribesmen might be lying hidden behind the crests. Possibly the Ghilzais expected that only cavalry were again about to pay them a visit, and were emboldened to come to the lower levels. As soon as the advanced company of the Highlanders appeared on the road, the “enemy,” if fifty are worthy of the name, drew off hurriedly to the highest hill, a couple of miles distant, and watched our movements. General Baker directed one company of the 92nd to advance in skirmishing order, and occupy a rocky hill overlooking Bahadur Khan’s fort, and commanding it at 700 or 800 yards, and sent a company of Sikhs round to the north, with orders to drive out any men who might be occupying the lower hills. It was soon seen that the place was quite deserted, and not a shot was fired from any of the hills. The whole valley lay before us dotted over with fortified homesteads, surrounded by grain-fields already green with sprouting corn. It seemed wonderfully fertile, and extended over many square miles; other and smaller valleys penetrating between the hills wherever there was a break in their continuous line. The exact extent of these minor valleys could not be estimated, but native report stated that the fertility was equal to that of the rich plain stretching away to the north-west for five or six miles. When it was seen that no opposition was to be offered, the Sikhs doubled down upon the fort from the low hills above it, and at the same time another company raced across the fields from the southern entrance to the valley, all being anxious to be in “at the loot.” It was a pretty sight watching the sepoys doubling along and spreading out as the fort and the village near it were gained. Clouds of dust with the gleam of lance-heads shining out soon arose further to the left in the heart of the valley, showing where the cavalry were galloping off to more distant homesteads. All Bahadur Khan’s villages, some ten in number, were marked down to be looted and burnt, and Sikhs and sowars were quickly engaged in the work. The houses were found stored with bhoosa, straw, firewood, and twigs for the winter as well as a small quantity of corn, and as there was not time to clear this out, and we could not afford to leave a force for the night in such a dangerous position so near to the hills, orders were given to fire the villages and destroy the houses and their contents. No better men than Sikhs could he found for such work, and in a few minutes Bahadur Khan’s villages were in flames, and volumes of dense black smoke pouring over the valley, a high wind aiding the fire with frantic earnestness. The villagers had carried off all their portable property, not even a charpoy remaining, but the Sikhs ransacked every place for hidden treasure, and smashed down the earthen corn-bins in hope of gaining a prize. These corn-bins seemed quite a feature of every house. They are three or four feet square and made of sun-dried clay, often fancifully ornamented with scroll-work. They stand on a raised platform in the living-room, and have near the bottom a small hole in which a piece of rag is stuffed. This answers to the tap of a barrel, for when the rag is withdrawn the grain pours out, and the daily supply can he drawn just as we would draw a tankard of beer in an English farm-house. Indian corn, from which rich chupaties (unleavened cakes) are made, is chiefly stored in this way, and near the bins stand the grinding-stones, at which the women of the house prepare the flour for the household. Generally an adjoining room is turned into a kitchen, the earthen floor being skilfully burrowed to form ovens, and round holes cut out on which to place the dekchies which serve for Afghan pots and kettles. Such of the rooms as I went into were dark and dirty enough, small square holes in the walls serving as windows, and the roofs being made up of thick logs laid a foot apart, and covered over with twigs, on which a foot of mud had been plastered. The Sikhs fired house after house, and every room was soon converted into a huge reverberating furnace, the fire having no means of escape through the roofs, which were very strong. Nearly all the houses were two-storied, with narrow wooden or mud staircases, and many a sepoy in his haste first fired the lower rooms, stored with wood or bhoosa, and then rushed upstairs intent on loot, soon to be driven down again by the smoke and flames from below. The search after household goods was varied by exciting chases after the fowls, ducks, and donkeys of the village. Sikhs and kahars, who had come up with the dandies (stretchers for wounded men), scrambled over housetops, and through blinding smoke, to capture the dearly-prized moorgie, while below an unoffending donkey would be chased frantically round awkward corners and over frozen watercourses, where pursuers and pursued alike came to grief. A donkey when captured was laden with such little loot as the men thought worth while carrying off. Each fowl had its neck wrung on the spot, was thrown into a convenient bit of fire in some blazing house, and having been singed clean of its feathers, was cooked in a few minutes, and eaten with infinite enjoyment. The cavalry were fortunate enough to secure fifty sheep and a few cows, which were driven to camp. After two or three hours had been spent in firing the various villages owned by Bahadur Khan, the order to fall in for the homeward march was given, and leaving the valley draped in smoke and the fire still working its will, the troops filed off for Maidan. They reached camp by evening, having marched seventeen miles over difficult ground and through half-frozen streams without mishap. As the rear-guard left, a few men appeared on the heights of the north and fired a few shots at long ranges, but these were merely in bravado.[27] We could learn nothing of the body of tribesmen and the 200 sepoys, and it is believed they have dispersed. The punishment of Bahadur Khan will have a great effect upon the whole district of Maidan, as it will show the maliks that they are not safe from our troops even in their most obscure valleys. General Baker remains in the neighbourhood of Maidan until next week, all the available transport animals from Sherpur being now engaged in carrying to our cantonments the large quantities of corn and bhoosa collected. Our winter supply of forage seems likely to be assured.
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Footnote 27:
This is a plain statement of the foray in the Darra Narkh, and our indignation was greatly aroused afterwards by seeing sensational articles in English papers describing how old men, women, and children were turned out to die in the snow. There were no old men, women, and children seen, and no snow. There were forty or fifty other villages in which they had taken refuge long before we arrived.
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Chapter XIV
Deportation of Yakub Khan to India—Review of his Reign—The Scene on the Morning of December 1st—Precautions along the Road to Jugdulluck—Strengthening of the Posts—Tribal Uneasiness about Cabul—Attitude of the Kohistanis—General Baker’s Brigade ordered to Sherpur—The State of Afghan Turkistan—Its Effect upon Kohistan—Gholam Hyder and his Army—The Extent of his Power—Return of his disbanded Regiments to their Homes in Kohistan—Our Policy towards the Afghans—Failure of the Attempt to conciliate the People—Modifications necessary—Murder of our Governor of Maidan.
SHERPUR, 1st December.
The ex-Amir of Afghanistan, Sirdar Yakub Khan, is now well on his way to India: the order for his deportation having been carried out so silently and quickly that, while I am writing, the majority of men in Sherpur cantonments are ignorant of his departure. As I ventured to predict in forwarding the news of the close of the Commission of Inquiry, Yakub Khan’s fate is that of an exile to India; but even now we are in the dark here as to whether he will be treated as a State prisoner, and allowed to live in luxurious comfort, or will be sent to the Andamans, to drag out his life as a common malefactor. If the latter, it will be an ignoble ending of a career which in its earlier stages promised such brilliant achievements. Yakub Khan was once the first soldier in Afghanistan, but from the evil moment when he confided in the word of his father, his fame was at an end. Five years’ captivity—and such captivity as only Shere Ali could devise—broke his spirit, dulled his intellect, and left him the weak incapable we treated with at Gundamak, and confided in so blindly until the fatal week in September. That under fairer auspices he might have proved a strong ruler, such as the Afghans require, can scarcely admit of a doubt; that he would have been a Dost Mahomed even his most ardent admirers would hesitate to assert. The conditions of government in a country like Afghanistan compel the sovereign either to be a tyrant or the tool of factions: Yakub Khan, during his few months of power, was the latter. His accession to the throne took place under circumstances to cope with which, even in the prime of his manhood before imprisonment had crippled him, would have taxed his power to the uttermost. After five years in a dungeon he was suddenly liberated by his father, only to find that father in the last stage of defeat and despair, his kingdom practically at the mercy of a powerful invader, and himself a panic-stricken fugitive. Left first as Shere Ali’s regent, Yakub Khan could do nothing beyond watch, with Oriental submission to fate, the advance of the two invading armies up the Jellalabad and Kurram Valleys. The help which Shere Ali expected to receive from his Russian friends over the Oxus was not forthcoming; in a few weeks came the news of the death of the Amir at Mazar-i-Sharif, and Yakub found himself in possession of a kingdom already tottering to its fall. If he had had the energy of Dost Mahomed he might have organized armies, called upon the semi-barbarous tribes still lying between Cabul and India to join his soldiers in a holy war, and make a supreme effort to check the invasion which had driven his father from the capital. But that energy was lacking; he made but a faint-hearted appeal to the fanaticism of the hill-tribes, and, unsupported as this was by any real attempt to collect the scattered units of Shere Ali’s once-powerful army, it necessarily failed. Nothing was left to him but negotiation; and, thanks to the clemency of the enemy to whom he was opposed, he was granted terms which, in his position, he could scarcely have hoped to gain. He allied himself with the most powerful State in Asia, and the safety of his kingdom was assured against all foreign aggression. If he had been a tyrant to his subjects, and thoroughly determined to make his will their law, the reception in his capital of an Embassy from the Power with which he was allied would have been fraught with no danger either to himself or to the Ambassador. But he had not the strength of tyranny sufficient to control the factions of which he was a mere tool, and it seems only too probable that he gradually drifted from his first position of sincerity towards his new allies, to that of a timid spectator of intrigues against the alliance. His weakness and vacillation could not check the danger that was growing so formidable, and, when the final outbreak came, his personal influence was even unequal to saving the life of the man who had trusted so implicitly in his good faith. That Yakub desired the death of Sir Louis Cavagnari we do not believe; that he had been led, insidiously, by men about him to coincide in the view that the Embassy should be forced to leave may be readily credited. And once that Embassy had been destroyed, there is only too much reason to suppose that he was inclined to parley with the men who had brought about its destruction, and to listen to their plausible reasoning that what had been done was irrevocable. The access of personal fear, which drove him to seek safety in the British camp, no more excuses him of responsibility for his acts of omission or commission, than does the voluntary surrender of a murderer condone the crime he has committed. So far as human canons are concerned, repentance cannot blot out guilt, however much it may modify judgment: the supreme quality of mercy is impossible under ordinary conditions of life. Taking the most pitiful estimate of Yakub Khan’s offence, putting aside the idea even of participation in the views of the men who wished him to break the engagements to which he stood pledged, there is the one unpardonable crime still clinging to him—that he stood by, and made no sign, while the lives of men were sacrificed which should have been sacred to him, even according to the narrow creed of the fanatics who surrounded him. His own words, when refusing the help that was so dearly needed, rise up against him when he appeals to our forbearance: “It is not to be done.” Perhaps, hereafter, the same answer may be given when we are asked to preserve the integrity of a country which has always repaid friendship with falsehood, trust with treachery.
From the 28th of October until his departure for India this morning, Yakub Khan had been a close prisoner in our camp, the tent in which he was confined being always strongly guarded, and no one beyond our own officers being allowed access to him. The monotony and solitude have told upon him, of course, and he is now thinner and more worn than when he first took refuge with General Baker at Kushi. Before the closing day of the inquiry he was contented and placid enough; but of late he has displayed some anxiety as to his probable fate, the irksomeness of the restraint under which he was placed having, no doubt, largely contributed to this. He could hear all the busy life in camp about him, but was as much shut out from it as if a prisoner again in the Bala Hissar. The bayonets of the sentries who quartered the ground day and night about his tent were a barrier beyond which he could not pass. The departure for India, Malta, or London, which he had expressed himself so willing to undertake nearly two months ago, must have seemed to him hopeless, even so late as six o’clock last night, when Major Hastings, Chief Political Officer, paid his usual visit to the tent, then guarded by fifty men of the 72nd Highlanders. Major Hastings said nothing of the orders which had been received from the Government, as it had been resolved to give as short a notice as possible of the intended journey, for fear of complications on the road to Peshawur. Not that it was at all likely an effort would be made to rouse the tribes to attempt a rescue, but that nothing was to be gained by an open parade of the departure. At eight o’clock Major Hastings sent word to Yakub Khan that he intended paying him a second visit; and, accompanied by Mr. H. M. Durand, Political Secretary to the Lieutenant-General, he again went to the tent. Yakub Khan was a little astonished at the unusual hour chosen for the visit; but when told that he would have to leave Cabul for India at six o’clock the next morning, he kept his composure admirably. He expressed surprise that such short notice should be given, but beyond this did not question the arrangements. He asked that his father-in-law, Yahiya Khan, and two other sirdars now in confinement should be released and allowed to accompany him. This, of course, could not be granted, and he then asked to what place in India he was to be taken, and where the Viceroy was. This was all the concern he showed. The orders received here are to convey him safely to Peshawur; so but little information as to his final resting-place could be vouchsafed him. I may here incidentally mention that he will probably go on to Umritsar or Lahore, where, perhaps, the decision of the Government will be made known to him.
All the arrangements for the journey had been carefully made beforehand. There were, this morning, at Butkhak, the 12th Punjab Cavalry, and between that post and Sei Baba 400 of the 72nd Highlanders, 300 of the 23rd Pioneers, and a wing of the 28th Punjab Infantry; while the convoy of sick and wounded, with its escort, was between Kata Sung and Jugdulluck. The escort from Sherpur was simply two squadrons of cavalry drawn from the 9th Lancers and 5th Punjab Cavalry, under the command of Major Hammond, of the latter regiment. Soon after five o’clock this morning the little camp in which the ex-Amir was lodged, not far from head-quarters, was all astir with preparations for the journey. A bright moon was shining overhead and a few watch-fires were blazing brightly among the tents, by the light of which the mules and yaboos were loaded up. The squadron of the 5th Punjab Cavalry drew up outside the gateway which leads from the cantonments near the western end of the southern wall; while the Lancers passed from their lines, opposite the break in the Bemaru Heights, to a bit of open ground between the quarters of the 72nd Highlanders and Yakub Khan’s tent. The early morning air was bitterly cold, and the usual light mist which settles nightly over the Cabul plain still hung about. The camp was silent and deserted, every soldier being at that hour asleep, except the sentries at their posts and the patrols, stalking like armed ghosts from picquet to picquet, seeking for any rabid Kohistani who might have invaded the sanctity of our lines. The Lancers moved smartly round and round in small circles to keep themselves and their horses from freezing as they stood; and through the dust and mist enveloping them their lances shone out now and again as the steel-heads caught a glint from the moon. It was a fantastical sight, this endless circling of misty horsemen, moving apparently without aim or object and growing momentarily more and more distinct as dawn began to creep up over the distant Luttabund and Khurd Cabul hills, and struggle with the clear moonlight which had before been supreme. In an hour everything was ready for departure. Yakub Khan’s horses were waiting ready saddled, and the Lancers had ceased their circling, and were formed up waiting for the order to march. Sir Frederick Roberts, Colonel Macgregor, Chief of the Staff, and Major Hastings were present to see the prisoner start on his rapid journey, and at half-past six exactly Yakub Khan rode off surrounded by Lancers. He had exchanged salaams with the General and those about him, and, if not positively elated, was seemingly quite content to leave Cabul. Captain Turner was the Political Officer to whose care he was assigned; and Abdullah Khan, son of the Nawab Gholam Hussein, was the native officer in attendance. His four body servants and a favourite attendant, Abdul Kayun, who had been released at the last moment, rode with the escort. No notice was given beforehand to his servants; and when the royal cooks heard that they were to start for India, they abandoned their master and took refuge in the city. They were afterwards sought out and sent on to Luttabund, the halting-place for the night, as the comfort of Yakub Khan is to be strictly considered. The news of the departure soon spread through Cabul, and the Mussulman population, according to a Hindu informant, are greatly depressed and uneasy. They are now convinced that the Durani dynasty is at an end; and, while not regretting Yakub personally, they mourn over the fall of that reign of turbulence which they could always carry out in the city under a Barakzai. Double marches are to be made the whole way to Peshawur, where Yakub Khan is expected to arrive in eight days. Part of the Cabul Field Force escort will accompany him to Jugdulluck, where the advanced Khyber Brigade will assume charge, and he will be passed through the various posts until the Punjab Frontier is reached.[28] His son, the so-called heir-apparent, remains here, as well as the members of his harem, who will be pensioned and properly cared for by the British authorities.
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Footnote 28:
I may here state that Yakub Khan made the journey to Peshawur without incident; the rapidity of his movements preventing any tribal combination being formed with the object of attempting his rescue.
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During the past few days reports have come in of growing uneasiness among various sections of the tribes about Cabul, and these culminated yesterday in the news that the Kohistanis had actually risen, and were at Khoja Serai, on the Charikar Road. They were said to have cooked three days’ food, and to meditate attacking Sherpur on the last day of the moon. From the Luttabund direction also it was reported that the Safis of Tagao and the hillmen west of Jugdulluck were also meditating mischief, though beyond gathering together in small bands they had not made open demonstration of hostility. The change in the attitude of the Kohistanis has warned us that it is idle to expect a peaceful quiet among men who have always been unruly and turbulent. The sections which will probably give us most trouble now and in the future are—the Wardaks inhabiting the country about the Ghazni Road, who may drag in the Logaris, the Safis of Tagao, and the Kohistanis. With the two former we have already come into collision; General Macpherson having ventured into Tagao in search of supplies, while General Baker on a similar mission at Maidan has had to burn Beni-Badam in the Wardak country.[29] It is probable that both Safis and Wardaks will seek hereafter to have their revenge; but in the meantime we shall not trouble them further, as we have the Kohistanis to deal with. Kohistan lies due north of Cabul between the Pughman, a spur of the Hindu Kush, and Tagao, and includes the upper valley of the Panjshir River, which stretches away north-east from Charikar, the most important town in the province. The lower portion of Kohistan is known as the Koh-Daman (Mountain Skirt), and is the district renowned for its vineyards and orchards, from which Cabul is largely supplied with fruit. It is fertilized by innumerable streams running down from the Pughman mountains, and uniting to form a river, which, turned to the north by ranges of hills facing Pughman, eventually empties itself into the Panjshir on the western border of Tagao. Looking northwards from the Bemaru Heights above Sherpur cantonments, one sees nothing but a mass of hills piled together in picturesque confusion, the foreground being a low range running parallel to the narrow swampy lake, which borders the plain from which Bemaru rises. The road from Cabul to Kohistan passes close to Sherpur on the east, crosses the grassy plain, and over the lake on a raised causeway at a point where it is very narrow and shallow, and thence over a low kotal called Paen Minar. Koh-Daman is then fairly entered upon, and the route northwards is as follows:—Paen Minar to Kila Ittafal Khan, six miles; Ittafal Khan to Khoja Serai, five miles; Khoja Serai to Istalif, seven miles; Istalif to Charikar, viâ Isturgehteh, thirteen miles; or a total from Paen Minar, four miles from Sherpur, of thirty-one miles. While we were encamped at Siah Sung the Kohistan Chiefs came in and made professions of friendship, which were gladly accepted by General Roberts. They remained with us for several weeks, but were plainly disappointed that no large subsidy was promised to them for their future good behaviour. A Governor, Shahbaz Khan, a Barakzai sirdar who had intermarried with the Kohistanis, was appointed, and was sent to Charikar, his mission being chiefly to furnish supplies for our troops, and to prevent any Chief arrogating to himself power in the province. No sooner do the maliks seem to have returned to their villages than they began to concert measures to annoy us. They gathered armed men together, set at nought Shahbaz Khan, and, as I have said, have been bold enough to declare their intention of attacking Sherpur. That they will do this seems too absurd to believe, unless there is a general combination, but the precaution of building breastworks on the Bemaru Heights has been taken, and yesterday afternoon a small party of cavalry were sent out to reconnoitre past Paen Minar. They saw no signs of any gathering, but still there may be bands of men lurking about. We have but a very small infantry garrison in Sherpur at the present time, as 500 of the 92nd, 400 of the 3rd Sikhs, and 400 of the 5th Punjab Infantry are out in Maidan, while the troops sent to hold the road as far as Jugdulluck on the occasion of Yakub Khan’s journey down are, as already stated, very numerous. General Baker has, therefore, been warned to march to Sherpur with his brigade as rapidly as his foraging arrangements will allow.
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Footnote 29:
General Baker nearly fell a victim to Afghan treachery at Beni-Badam. He visited the village with twenty or thirty troopers of the 9th Lancers, leaving his infantry on the Ghazni Road, 2½ miles away. The villagers brought out milk and fruit for the officers, and provided corn and forage for the horses, protesting their friendship loudly. General Baker noticed that only old men seemed in the village, but did not suspect treachery until suddenly two large bodies of armed men, with banners flying, were seen rushing down the hill to cut off his retreat. The troopers had to skirmish on foot with their carbines, and after a sharp fight the General managed to rejoin his infantry. The next day he destroyed the village.
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4th December.
The attitude of the Kohistanis continues far from satisfactory, though they have not, as yet, been reckless enough to carry out their threat of attacking Sherpur. The author of the late disturbances is said to be the mother of Yakub Khan, a woman well advanced in years, but still capable, through agents, of doing much mischief. She is in Cabul with the harem of the ex-Amir; and as we do not war against women, she has had full liberty to intrigue with discontented chiefs. Of the gathering of hostile bands at Khoja Serai, south of Istalif, we have heard little of late. The man who will probably give us most trouble is Mir Butcha; while, to show how interests clash in this once “God-governed country,” I may state that the nephew of Daoud Shah, the ex-Commander-in-Chief of the Afghan army, is a prominent leader of the malcontents. His uncle is striving in every way to ingratiate himself with the British, and has so far succeeded, that he is freely made use of by our Political Officers. He has several times given valuable information and has been of great service in aiding us in the collection of supplies. He has warned us of the disaffected nature of the Kohistanis; and though he over-estimates their strength as opposed to our army, his warning has been partially justified by late events. The southern part of Kohistan, the Koh-Daman, is not so turbulent as that further north, about Charikar, in which Shahbaz Khan is supposed to exercise power. One road from Northern Turkistan passes over the Hindu Kush and runs through Charikar to Cabul; and this near proximity to a province, supposed at present to be safe from our army, has a tendency to foster local disaffection. In fact, the state of Turkistan re-acts upon all Kohistan, and indirectly upon the country about Cabul; and, in view of further complications, it is worth while looking critically upon the present position of that important province.
The capture of Cabul and the dispersion of such of the rebel regiments as fought at Charasia had a great effect, at first, in showing every province of Afghanistan that the impregnability of their capital was a myth. Our arms having been so successful in so short a time, checked the incipient state of anarchy into which the whole country was fast falling, as it seemed rational to suppose that an army which in a few days had captured Cabul would be more than equal to the task of visiting Charikar, Bamian, or even Balkh, if occasion required a further display of force. But, as time passed on, and it began to dawn upon the minds of men somewhat removed from the captured city that we were settling down for the winter in local quarters, the latent hostility to our presence in Afghanistan revived. In Turkistan it could scarcely be called a revival, as it had never died out. In that province were still organized regiments (well armed and boasting of being in possession of guns), whose sepoys had never suffered the disgrace of a defeat at our hands. It was not, therefore, surprising that our attempts to open up communication with Gholam Hyder, the Afghan Governor of the northern districts, should have failed. In the first place, it was extremely difficult to get trustworthy news of what was going on over the Koh-i-Baba range, and Gholam Hyder’s movements were absolutely unknown. He was believed to be at Mazar-i-Sharif, or Balkh, and rumours then reached us that he had left with Nek Mahomed to seek aid from the Russians over the Oxus. This news was never confirmed; but from incidents which occurred and were verified in several ways, it transpired that, wherever Gholam Hyder might be, his power was very limited. The troops on which he relied for support either revolted, as in the case of the regiments at Ghori, a post fifty miles south of Kunduz, the nearest station to Badakshan, on the Balkh, Tashkurgan, Kunduz, and Faizabad Road, or were deserted by their Generals, who sought safety with the British. The sepoys knew there was really no Government in existence, and, with arms in their hands, felt themselves masters of the situation. Badakshan was in revolt. Ghori and the district between Balkh and Badakshan could not do better than follow the example. They did so, and Gholam Hyder’s power was gradually narrowed, no attention being paid to his commands. To make his position of Governor still more absurd, an Uzbeg Chief, Mahomed Shah, appropriated the country about Sar-i-Pul and Maemena, distant only eighty miles to the west and south-west of Balkh. The nominal Governor of Turkistan, therefore, found himself at last ruling the tract of country south of the Oxus, as far as Tashkurgan and Aebak on the east, and Akcha on the west: southwards, to Bamian, he governed as far as men chose to obey him, and no further. From Aebak to Akcha, in a bee-line, is less than 130 miles: from the Oxus through Balkh to Bamian is 160 miles. This was—and for all we know is—the extent of territory Gholam Hyder governs. He is responsible to no one but himself: and as long as he can find money to pay his troops, he may rely upon exercising a certain influence. If we had got as far as Bamian, 100 miles from Cabul, he might still have retained a show of independence, Balkh being so near the Oxus that to escape to Bokhara would have been easy if our troops had been pushed on, before winter set in, towards the northern frontier. But Gholam Hyder has been left undisturbed; and now that the Kohistanis have broken faith with us, his name is being freely used to induce men to gather together. A few days ago it was reported that he had reached Charikar with eight guns and a force of cavalry; but later reports show this was a false rumour circulated in Cabul to excite the Wardaks and Ghilzais on the Ghazni Road and in Logar. He may have left Mazar i-Sharif; but if, as seems likely, he looks for Russian gold to aid him in keeping his hold upon Turkistan, he would scarcely have deserted Balkh and the neighbourhood for the questionable glory of raising an army of hill-men in Kohistan. What is far more probable is, that the regiments which disbanded and scattered to various villages are forming bands among themselves, and some of these may think Charikar as good a centre to make for as any other place. Turkistan can furnish any number of these sepoys; and as the Bamian route to Cabul is long and tiresome, they may prefer taking the road over the Hindu Kush to Kohistan, there to await for further development of events. If the British force menaces them, they can return to Turkistan: if we leave them alone, as we probably shall, they will have to find a way of living during the winter; and this to an Afghan well-armed, and with the bluster of a bully, is not a difficult task. From what I have written above, it will be seen that Northern and Eastern Turkistan is in the state into which it might have been expected to fall without a strong hand controlling it from Cabul. Of Herat I know nothing, as it is too far removed from us for even rumours to drift down to our camp.
With this condition of affairs in a province most open to outside influence and trans-Oxus intrigue, it becomes of serious moment to consider what modification of our policy, as set forth in the Proclamation of October 28th, is necessary. The Proclamation concluded as follows:—“The services of such sirdars and chiefs as assist in preserving order will be duly recognized; but all disturbers of the peace, and persons concerned in attacks upon the British authority, will meet with condign punishment. The British Government, after consultation with the principal sirdars, tribal chiefs, and others representing the interests and wishes of the various provinces and cities, will declare its will as to the future permanent arrangements to be made for the good government of the people.” Now these stilted periods either mean a great deal, or nothing at all. As regards Turkistan there are within it at the present moment numerous “disturbers of the peace,” as there are in Kohistan, Maidan, and Logar; and, to be consistent, we must fulfil our pledge to punish them condignly; if not now, at some future date. But these disturbers have this much in their favour, that beyond the empty words of the Proclamation they have had no evidence of the British authority which has supplanted that of the Amir. To them it is non-existent. It may flourish within 20 miles of Cabul and eastwards along the Jellalabad Valley to the Khyber, but it has never shown itself north of the Hindu Kush: it has left Balkh and Herat untouched: it has not been felt at Bamian or Ghazni, each within 100 miles of the 7,000 men encamped at Sherpur: how, then, is it to be acknowledged at more distant points? An authority, to be respected, must be tangible. The British authority at Cabul is in the tangible shape of a conquering army: it is respected—at Cabul. But Cabul is not Turkistan, and it is idle to expect a Proclamation, or even a thousand, to cause provincial governors, now free from all control, voluntarily to submit to an authority which makes, apparently, no effort to reach them. “Consultation with the principal sirdars and tribal chiefs representing the various provinces and cities of Afghanistan” is admirable from the view of closet politicians, but how if sirdars and chiefs decline to consult? It may have been intended, when the Proclamation was issued, that a demonstration of force should be made to bring about the consultation, but that demonstration has never been carried out—probably as much from political considerations as military difficulties. Sir Frederick Roberts and his army did their first work of capturing Cabul with such rapidity that, with troops pushed forward from Jellalabad to garrison the captured city and collect supplies for the winter, they might have ventured into Turkistan with the prospect of meeting with no opposition; and there might have been now, at Bamian and Balkh, agents who had been installed by our army and left in the position of governors ruling in our name. This programme was believed at one time to be on the cards, and we calculated how many marches it was to Bamian and the Oxus; but with no supports forthcoming up to the middle of November (a flying column at Jugdulluck was not worthy of the name), and with the usual stupid outcry at home against even the appearance of annexation, the project fell through. An attempt has been made to carry out the spirit of the Proclamation—to make “permanent arrangements for the good government of the people”—by consulting with such sirdars as have deemed it wise to join us. From their number four men have been chosen as governors of districts; but, so far, this system has been a failure. However much they may represent us, they are rejected of the people; and the three who, to use an official phrase, have “joined their appointments,” have had a very rough time of it. These were Shahbaz Khan, Mahomed Hasan Khan, and Abdulla Khan, all sirdars of local influence about Cabul, who were posted to Kohistan, Maidan, and Logar, respectively. (Turkistan, so far, has not received its governor, Sirdar Wali Mahomed, who had made many preparations for starting.) They were sent without armed escorts, and have been worried and threatened by malcontents, who have resented their intrusion with menaces that can scarcely be lightly regarded. In one case, that of Hasan Khan, son of Dost Mahomed and half-brother of Wali Mahomed, assassination has been added to threats. News was brought in from Naure Falad, the village in the Maidan Valley which General Baker’s force only left on the 1st instant, that a body of men, including some sepoys of the Ardal Regiments, had attacked the fort in which Hasan Khan was living, and had murdered our lately-appointed governor and one of his followers. They shot the old man through the head, and then hacked his body to pieces. Hasan Khan was quite a favourite in our camp at Maidan, his kind disposition and hearty frankness being qualities very foreign to the nature of the ordinary Afghan sirdar. The men who killed him are said to have come down the Darra Narkh from the hills about Bahadur Khan’s villages; and their action was in revenge for our burning of their villages. They returned to Upper Maidan as soon as they had murdered our representative, having, according to their own rude idea, shown us that they had no intention of accepting our authority. It is evident that from Ghazni northwards much excitement has arisen since General Baker’s departure. From Charikar and Logar our governors report that they are looked upon with disfavour, and even hated, by many maliks; and as they also have no escorts, their lives may be considered in jeopardy. When the Kohistanis, a few days ago, were up in arms, Shahbaz Khan’s position was very ticklish; and to relieve the pressure put upon him, Sirdar Ibrahim Khan, an elder brother of Yakub Khan, was sent out to bring back the chiefs to the allegiance they had promised when in our camp. Though he succeeded in inducing twenty or thirty of the minor chiefs of Koh-Daman to come in, he was reviled by others as a “Feringhi” and “Kafir,” and was warned to return to Sherpur, or his life would be taken. These are the results of the first experiments of governing provinces through chiefs selected by us as representing the interests and wishes of the people.