This was our only visit to our new possession, for very soon afterwards I was informed that Lord Lytton wished me to spend the summer at Simla, as the Lieutenant-Governor of the Punjab would be there, and His Excellency was anxious to discuss the details of the proposed Chief Commissionership. My wife, therefore, returned to Simla at once, and I joined her at the end of May, having in the meanwhile inspected every regiment and visited every post held by the Frontier Force between Sind and Hazara—a most interesting experience, which I thoroughly enjoyed.

[Footnote 1: The Amir's eldest son, who had rebelled on his younger brother, Abdulla Jan, being nominated heir to the throne.]

[Footnote 2: Before Lord Northbrook left India he sent Major Sandeman on a Mission to Khelat to re-open the Bolan Pass, and endeavour to settle the differences between the Khan and the Baluchistan tribes, and between the tribes themselves, who were all at loggerheads.]

[Footnote 3: Presents given by the British Government to the Mir of Wakhan in recognition of his hospitable reception of the members of the Forsyth Mission on their return from Yarkund.]

[Footnote 4: 'Besides the sixty-three Ruling Chiefs, there were nearly three hundred titular Chiefs and persons of distinction collected at the Imperial Assemblage, besides those included in the suites of Ruling Chiefs.—J. Talboys Wheeler, 'History of the Delhi Assemblage.']

[Footnote 5: These gold medals were also presented to the Governors, Lieutenant-Governors, and other high officials, and to the members of the Imperial Assemblage Committee.]

[Footnote 6: In endeavouring to describe this historical event, I have freely refreshed my memory from Talboys Wheeler's 'History of the Imperial Assemblage,' in which is given a detailed account of the proceedings.]

* * * * *



CHAPTER XLIII. 1878

Object of the first Afghan war —Excitement caused by Russia's advances

Before continuing my story, it will, I think, be as well to recall to the minds of my readers the train of events which led to England and Russia becoming at the same moment solicitous for the Amir's friendship, for it was this rivalry which was the immediate cause of the second Afghan war.

Less than two hundred years ago the British Empire in the East and Russia were separated from each other by a distance of 4,000 miles. Russia's most advanced posts were at Orenburg and Petropaulovsk, while England had obtained but an uncertain footing on the seaboard of southern India. The French were our only European rivals in India, and the advance of Russia towards the Oxus was as little anticipated as was England's advance towards the Indus.

Thirty years later Russia began to absorb the hordes of the Kirghiz steppes, which gave her occupation for more than a hundred years, during which time England was far from idle. Bengal was conquered, or ceded to us, the Madras Presidency established, and Bombay had become an important settlement, with the result that, in the early part of this century, the distance between the Russian and English possessions had been diminished to less than 2,000 miles.

Our progress was now more rapid. While Russia was laboriously crossing a barren desert, the North-West Provinces, the Carnatic, the territories of the Peshwa, Sind, and the Punjab, successively came under our rule, and by 1850 we had extended our dominions to the foot of the mountains beyond the Indus.

Russia by this time, having overcome the difficulties of the desert, had established herself at Aralsk, near the junction of the Syr Daria with the waters of Lake Aral; so that in fifty years the distance between the outposts of the two advancing Powers in Asia had been reduced to about 1,000 miles.

Repeated successful wars with Persia, and our desertion of that Power owing to the conviction that we could no longer defend her against the Russians, had practically placed her at their mercy, and they had induced Persia, in 1837, to undertake the siege of Herat. At the same time, the Russian Ambassador at Teheran had despatched Captain Vitkievitch to Kabul with letters from himself and from the Czar to the Amir, in the hope of getting Dost Mahomed Khan to join the Russians and Persians in their alliance against the English.

Vitkievitch's arrival at Kabul towards the end of 1837 had been anticipated by Captain (afterwards Sir Alexander) Burnes, who had been sent three months before by Lord Auckland on a Mission to the Amir, ostensibly to improve our commercial relations with the Afghans, but in reality to prevent them from joining the Russo-Persian alliance.

Burnes had been most cordially received by Dost Mahomed, who hoped, with the help of the Indian Government, to recover the district of Peshawar, which had been wrested from him by the Sikhs. Vitkievitch's reception was proportionately discouraging, and for some weeks he could not obtain an interview with the Amir.

The Dost's hopes, however, were not fulfilled. We declined to give him any assistance towards regaining possession of Peshawar or defending his dominions, should his refusal to join with Persia and Russia draw down upon him the enmity of those Powers.

Vitkievitch, who had been patiently biding his time, was now taken into favour by the Amir, who accorded him a reception which fully compensated for the neglect with which he had previously been treated.

Burnes remained at Kabul until the spring of 1838, and then returned to India to report that Dost Mahomed had thrown himself heart and soul into the Russo-Persian alliance.

Under pressure from the English Ministry the Governor-General of India determined to take the extreme measure of deposing an Amir who had shown himself so hostilely inclined, and of placing on the throne of Kabul a Ruler who, it was hoped, would feel that it was to his interest to keep on good terms with us. It was for this object that the first Afghan war[1] was undertaken, which ended in the murder of our nominee, Shah Shuja, and the triumphant return of Dost Mahomed. The disastrous failure of our action in this matter taught the British Government that our frontier on the Sutlej was too far removed for us to think of exercising any real influence in Afghanistan, and that the time had not arrived to warrant our interfering in Afghan affairs.

After this came our war with the Sikhs, resulting in our conquest of the Punjab, and our frontier becoming conterminous with that of Afghanistan on the banks of the Indus.

There was a lull in the movements of Russia in Central Asia until after the Crimean War of 1854-56, which, while temporarily checking the designs of Russia in Europe, seems to have stimulated her progress in the East. After the passage of the great desert, Russia found herself in the midst of fertile and settled countries, whose provinces fell under her control as rapidly as those of India had fallen under ours, until in 1864 Chimkent was occupied, the point beyond which Prince Gortchakoff stated that there was no intention on the part of Russia to make further advances.

Notwithstanding these assurances, Tashkent was captured on the 29th June of the following year. In 1866 Khojent was successfully assaulted. Tisakh fell on the 30th October; and in the spring of 1867 the fort of Yani-Kargan in the Nurata mountains was seized and occupied.

Bokhara alone remained unconquered, but the Ruler of that State, after vainly endeavouring to gain assistance from Afghanistan and to enlist the sympathies of the Indian Government, was compelled to sue for peace.

Important as these acquisitions were, they attracted but little attention in England, owing partly to the policy of non-interference which had been adopted as regards Central Asian affairs, and partly to the British public being absorbed in European politics, until 1868, when the occupation of Samarkand by Russia caused considerable excitement, not to say consternation, amongst the authorities in England.

Conferences took place in the spring of 1870 between Lord Clarendon, the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, and Baron Brunow, the Russian Ambassador, with the object of determining a neutral zone, which should be the limit of the possessions of England and Russia in Central Asia. For nearly three years, Russia was persistent in her endeavours to have Afghanistan placed outside the pale of British influence; but the Indian Government were equally persistent in pointing out the danger of agreeing to such an arrangement, and it was not until the 31st January, 1873, that the boundary, which neither England nor Russia might cross, was finally agreed upon.

Six months later the conquest of Khiva by Russia was effected. It was at first given out that the expedition was to punish acts of brigandage, and to rescue fifty Russian prisoners, but was on no account to lead to a prolonged occupancy of the Khanate. Count Schouvaloff, the Russian Statesman who was deputed to communicate the object of the expedition to the British Government, declared that a positive promise to this effect might be given to the British public, as a proof of the friendly and pacific intentions of his master the Czar; but, notwithstanding these assurances, the Russians never left Khiva, and it has been a Russian possession from that time.

Thus, in a little more than twenty years, Russia had made a stride of 600 miles towards India, leaving but 400 miles between her outposts and those of Great Britain. Russia's southern boundary was now, in fact, almost conterminous with the northern boundary of Afghanistan, near enough to cause the Ruler of that country considerable anxiety, and make him feel that Russia had become a dreaded neighbour, and that the integrity of his kingdom could not be maintained save by the aid of one of the two great Powers between whose fire he now found himself.

I have endeavoured to show how it was that Sher Ali, notwithstanding his soreness and disappointment at the many rebuffs he had received from us in the earlier part of his career, gratefully remembered the timely aid afforded him by Sir John Lawrence, and the princely reception accorded to him by Lord Mayo, and was still quite prepared in 1873 to enter into friendly relations with us, provided we would recognize his favourite son as his heir, and give a direct promise of aid in the event of Russian aggression. Our refusal to accede to these terms, added to our adverse decision in regard to the Sistan boundary, turned Sher Ali from a friend into an enemy, and he decided, as his father had done forty years before, to throw in his lot with Russia.

[Footnote 1: It is instructive to note how remarkably similar were the circumstances which brought about the first and second Afghan wars, viz., the presence of Russian officers at Kabul.]

* * * * *



CHAPTER XLIV. 1878

Effect of the Berlin Treaty at Kabul —Sher Ali decides against England—A meeting of portentous moment —Preparations for war—Letter from Sher Ali



In 1877 Russia declared war with Turkey; for more than a year fighting had been going on between the two countries, and as it seemed possible to the British Government that England might in the end be drawn into the contest, it was deemed expedient to obtain help from India, and a force of about 5,000 Native soldiers was despatched from Bombay to Malta in response to the demand from home.

Russia answered this move on our part by increased activity in Central Asia; and in June, 1878, it was reported by Major Cavagnari, Deputy-Commissioner of Peshawar, that a Russian Envoy of the same rank as the Governor-General of Tashkent was about to visit Kabul, and that General Kauffmann had written to the Amir that the Envoy must be received as an Ambassador deputed by the Czar himself. A few days later further reports were received of Russian troops being mobilized, and of the intention of Russia to establish cantonments on the ferries of Kilif and Kerki on the Oxus.

The Amir, it was said, summoned a council of the leading Chiefs, to discuss the question whether it would be most advantageous for Afghanistan at this juncture to side with Russia or with England; it was decided apparently in favour of the former, for from the moment General Stolietoff's Mission set foot on Afghan territory it met with an enthusiastic reception. Five miles from the capital Stolietoff and his companions were welcomed by the Foreign Secretary. They were then mounted on richly-caparisoned elephants, and escorted by a large body of troops to the Bala Hissar, where the following morning they were received in state by Sher Ali, and the nobles of highest degree in his kingdom.[1]

On the eve of the day that the Mission entered Kabul, Stolietoff received a despatch from General Kauffmann giving him the heads of the Berlin Treaty, with the following commentary in the handwriting of the Governor-General himself: 'If the news be true, it is indeed melancholy;' adding, however, that the Congress had finished its sittings, and that, therefore, the Envoy in his negotiations with the Amir had better refrain from arranging any distinct measures, or making any positive promises, and 'not go generally as far as would have been advisable if war with England had been threatened.' Evidently these instructions greatly modified the basis of Stolietoff's negotiations with Sher Ali; for, although the Russians deny that an offensive and defensive alliance with the Afghan Ruler was contemplated, it seems probable, from the tone of Kauffmann's despatch, that the Envoy's instructions were elastic enough to admit of such an arrangement had the circumstances of the case made it desirable—e.g., had the Berlin Congress failed to establish peace in Europe.

In telegraphing to the Secretary of State an account of these proceedings at Kabul, the Viceroy requested explicit instructions from Her Majesty's Government as to whether this conduct on the part of Russia and Afghanistan was to be left to the Government of India to deal with as a matter between it and the Amir, or whether, having regard to Russia's formal promises, it would be treated as an Imperial question. 'In the former case,' he concluded, 'I shall propose, with your approval, to insist on an immediate suitable reception of a British Mission.'

Lord Lytton's proposition was approved of by Her Majesty's Ministers, and a letter[2] was at once written by the Viceroy to the Amir, announcing that a Mission would shortly be despatched to Kabul with General Sir Neville Chamberlain, at that time Commander-in-Chief in Madras, as its responsible head.

Major Cavagnari was at the same time directed to inform the authorities at Kabul that the object of the Mission was altogether friendly, and that a refusal to grant it a free passage and safe conduct, such as had been accorded to the Russian Envoy, would be considered as an act of open hostility. Intimation of the Viceroy's intentions reached Kabul on the 17th August, the day on which the Amir's favourite son, Abdulla Jan, died. This untoward event was taken advantage of to delay answering the Viceroy's letter, but it was not allowed in any way to interfere with the progress of the negotiations with Russia. When these were completed, Stolietoff inquired from Sher Ali whether he meant to receive the English Mission, whereupon the Amir asked for the General's advice in the matter. Stolietoff, while replying somewhat evasively, gave Sher Ali to understand that the simultaneous presence of Embassies from two countries in almost hostile relations with each other would not be quite convenient, upon which His Highness decided not to allow the British Mission to enter Afghanistan. This decision, however, was not communicated to the Viceroy, and on the 21st September the Mission[3] marched out of Peshawar and encamped at Jamrud, three miles short of the Kyber Pass.

In consequence of the extremely hostile attitude of the Amir, and the very unsatisfactory reply received from General Faiz Mahomed Khan, commanding the Afghan troops in the Kyber Pass, to a letter[4] he had written a few days before, Sir Neville Chamberlain suspected that the advance of the Mission would be opposed, and, in order 'to reduce to a minimum any indignity that might be offered to our Government,' he deputed Major Cavagnari to ride on with a few sowars to Ali Masjid, a fort ten miles beyond the mouth of the Pass, and demand leave for the Mission to proceed.

When within a mile of the fort, Cavagnari was met by a body of Afridis, who warned him that the road ahead was blocked by Afghans, and that if he ventured further he would be fired upon. On this Cavagnari halted, and while in the act of writing a letter to Faiz Mahomed, complaining of the treatment he had met with, and informing him that he and his companions intended to proceed until fired upon, an act the responsibility for which would rest with the Amir's representatives, a message was brought him from Faiz Mahomed to the effect that he was coming to meet him, and would hear anything he had to communicate.

The interview took place near a water-mill on the right bank of the stream which flows under Ali Masjid. I have several times since ridden past the spot and pictured to myself the meeting between the British political officer and the Afghan General. It was a meeting of most portentous moment, for its result would mean peace or war.

Faiz Mahomed's bearing was perfectly courteous, but he made it clear that he did not intend to permit the Mission to pass, explaining that he was only acting as a sentry under instructions from Kabul, and that he was bound to resist the entrance of the Mission into Afghan territory with all the force at his disposal. He spoke with considerable warmth, and told Cavagnari that but for their personal friendship he would, in obedience to the Amir's orders, have shot down him and his escort.

Faiz Mahomed's followers were not so respectful in their bearing as their Chief, and their manner warned Cavagnari that it was unadvisable to prolong the conversation; he, therefore, took leave of the Afghan General, and returned to Jamrud. The Mission was dissolved,[5] our Agent at Kabul was ordered to return to India, and Cavagnari was instructed to remain at Peshawar and arrange for alienating the Afridis in the Khyber from the Amir's interests.

In reporting these circumstances to the Secretary of State, the Government of India expressed their regret that this final endeavour on their part to arrive at some definite understanding with the Amir of Kabul should have been thus met with repudiation and affront, and concluded their despatch in the following words: 'The repulse of Sir Neville Chamberlain by Sher Ali at his frontier while the Russian emissaries are still at his capital has proved the inutility of diplomatic expedients, and has deprived the Amir of all claim upon our further forbearance.'

It had been arranged that, if it were unfortunately found to be necessary to support political efforts by military measures, two columns should be mobilized, one at Sukkur on the Indus, for an advance in the direction of Kandahar, the other at Kohat for operations in the Kuram valley, and that I was to have command of the latter. As soon, therefore, as the tidings of Sir Neville's repulse was received, I started from Simla to be on the spot in case the proposal to employ force should be sanctioned by the authorities in England.

Between the time of my leaving Simla and my arrival at Kohat on the 9th October, it was decided to employ a third column to make a demonstration in the direction of the Khyber for the purpose of clearing the Amir's troops out of the pass.[6]

The formation of this column was no doubt a wise move, as the Afghans were holding Ali Masjid, the spot on which the insult had been offered to our Envoy, and the presence of a force on this line would tend to relieve the pressure against my column; but looked at from my point of view, this third column was not quite so desirable, as it involved the withdrawal of three of my most efficient regiments, and the transfer of a large number of my transport animals to the Khyber for its use. There was some consolation, however, in the fact that my old friend Major-General Sir Samuel Browne, who had been named for the command in the Khyber, was to be the gainer by my loss.

Major-General Donald Stewart, who was in England, was telegraphed for to command the Kandahar column, the advanced portion of which, it was intended, should push on under Major-General Biddulph to strengthen Quetta.

The long-expected reply[7] from the Amir to the Viceroy's letter of the 14th August was received at Simla on the 19th October. Its tone was considered extremely discourteous; it contained no apology for the public affront offered to the British Government, and indicated no desire for improved relations.

The reply was at once communicated to the Secretary of State, who was further informed that the Government of India proposed the following measures:—

The immediate issue of a manifesto which should define the cause of offence, declare a friendly disposition towards the Afghan people and reluctance to interfere in their internal affairs, and should fix the whole responsibility of what might happen upon the Amir.

An advance into the Kuram valley as soon as the force at Kohat was ready to move.

The expulsion of the Afghan troops holding the Khyber Pass.

An advance from Quetta into Pishin, or, if necessary, to Kandahar.

Lord Cranbrook (who had succeeded the Marquis of Salisbury as Secretary of State for India) replied[8] that he did not consider matters to be at present ripe for taking the extreme measures recommended by the Government of India, and that, before crossing the frontiers of Afghanistan, a letter should be addressed to the Amir demanding, in temperate language, an apology, and the acceptance of a permanent Mission within Afghan limits; that sufficient time should be given for the receipt of a reply to this letter (the text of which was to be telegraphed to Lord Cranbrook for approval before despatch), and that meanwhile the massing of troops should be continued, and adequate forces assembled at the various points where the frontier would be crossed if war were declared. The Secretary of State went on to say: 'There must be no mistake as to our show of power to enforce what we require; this locus penitentiae should be allowed before hostile acts are committed against the Amir.'

These instructions were carried out, and on the 30th October the ultimatum was despatched to Sher Ali, informing him that, unless his acceptance of the conditions were received by the Viceroy not later than the 20th November, he would be treated by the British Government as a declared enemy.

[Footnote 1: On the 13th June, the day on which the Berlin Congress held its first sitting, the news of the approach of General Stolietoff's Mission reached Kabul. The Russians hoped that the Mission might influence the decision of the Berlin Congress, and although its despatch was repudiated by the Imperial Government at St. Petersburg, it was subsequently ascertained on excellent authority that the project of sending a Mission to Kabul was discussed three times at the Council of Ministers, and, according to a statement in the Journal de St. Petersbourg, orders were sent in April, 1878, to General Kauffmann regarding its despatch. About the same time, the Russian Minister of War proposed that the Army of the Caucasus should be transferred bodily across the Caspian to Astrabad, whence the troops would march in two columns on Herat; while three columns, amounting in the aggregate to 14,000 men, were to move direct upon the Oxus from Turkestan. The main part of this scheme was never carried into effect, probably from its being found too great an undertaking at a time when Russia had scarcely obtained a footing beyond the Caspian, but the minor movement was partially carried out. The largest of the three columns, under Kauffmann's own command, moved from Tashkent, through Samarkand, to Jam, the most southern point of the Russian possessions at that time, and within ten marches of Kilif, the main ferry over the Oxus. There it remained for some weeks, when it returned to Tashkent, the Afghan expedition being abandoned in consequence of the Treaty of Berlin having been signed.]

[Footnote 2:

'SIMLA, '14th August, 1878.

'The authentic intelligence which I have lately received of the course of recent events at Kabul and in the countries bordering on Afghanistan has rendered it necessary that I should communicate fully and without reserve with your Highness upon matters of importance which concern the interests of India and of Afghanistan. For this reason, I have considered it expedient to depute a special and confidential British Envoy of high rank, who is known to your Highness—his Excellency General Sir Neville Bowles Chamberlain, Knight Grand Cross of the Most Honourable Order of the Bath, Knight Grand Commander of the Most Exalted Order of the Star of India, Commander-in-Chief of the Madras Army—to visit your Highness immediately at Kabul, in order that he may converse personally with your Highness regarding these urgent affairs. It appears certain that they can best be arranged for the welfare and tranquillity of both States, and for the preservation of friendship between the two Governments, by a full and frank statement of the present position. This letter is therefore sent in advance to your Highness by the hand of Nawab Gholam Hussein Khan, C.S.I., a faithful and honoured Sirdar of my Government, who will explain all necessary details as to the time and manner of the Envoy's visit. It is asked that your Highness may be pleased to issue commands to your Sirdars, and to all other authorities in Afghanistan, upon the route between Peshawar and Kabul, that they shall make, without any delay, whatever arrangements are necessary and proper for effectively securing to my Envoy, the representative of a friendly Power, due safe conduct and suitable accommodation according to his dignity, while passing with his retinue through the dominions of your Highness.

'I beg to express the high consideration I entertain for your Highness, and to subscribe myself.']

[Footnote 3: The Mission was composed of General Sir Neville Chamberlain, G.C.B., G.C.S.I.; Major Cavagnari, C.S.I.; Surgeon-Major Bellew, C.S.I.; Major O. St. John, R.E.; Captain St. V. Hammick, 43rd Foot; Captain F. Onslow, Madras Cavalry; Lieutenant Neville Chamberlain, Central India Horse; Maharaj Pertap Sing of Jodhpur; and Sirdar Obed Ulla Khan, of Tonk. Lieutenant-Colonel F. Jenkins and Captain W. Battye were with the escort.]

[Footnote 4:

'PESHAWAR,

'15th September, 1878.

(After compliments.) 'I write to inform you that, by command of His Excellency the Viceroy and Governor-General of India, a friendly Mission of British officers, with a suitable escort, is about to proceed to Kabul through the Khyber Pass, and intimation of the despatch of this Mission has been duly communicated to His Highness the Amir by the hand of the Nawab Ghulam Hussein Khan.

'I hear that an official from Kabul has recently visited you at Ali Masjid, and he has doubtless instructed you in accordance with His Highness the Amir's commands. As, however, information has now been received that you have summoned from Peshawar the Khyber headmen with whom we were making arrangements for the safe conduct of the British Mission through the Khyber Pass, I therefore write to inquire from you whether, in accordance with the instructions you have received, you are prepared to guarantee the safety of the British Mission to Daka or not; and I request that a clear reply to this inquiry may be speedily communicated by the hand of the bearer of this letter, as I cannot delay my departure from Peshawar. It is well known that the Khyber tribes are in receipt of allowances from the Kabul Government, and also, like other independent tribes on this frontier, have relations with the British Government. It may be well to let you know that when the present negotiations were opened with the Khyber tribes, it was solely with the object of arranging with them for the safe conduct of the British Mission through the Khyber Pass, in the same manner as was done in regard to the despatch of our Agent, the Nawab Ghulam Hussein Khan; and the tribes were given clearly to understand that these negotiations were in no way intended to prejudice their relations with His Highness the Amir, as it was well known that the object of the British Mission was altogether of a friendly character to His Highness the Amir and the people of Afghanistan.

'I trust that, in accordance with the instructions you have received from His Highness the Amir, your reply to this letter will be satisfactory, and that it will contain the required assurances that the Mission will be safely conducted to Daka. I shall expect to receive your reply to this letter not later than the 18th instant, so please understand that the matter is most urgent.

'But at the same time, it is my duty to inform you, in a frank and friendly manner, that if your answer is not what I trust it will be, or if you delay to send an early reply, I shall have no alternative but to make whatever arrangements may seem to me best for carrying out the instructions I have received from my own Government.']

[Footnote 5: In a letter to Lord Lytton reporting the rebuff the Mission had encountered, General Chamberlain wrote: 'No man was ever more anxious than I to preserve peace and secure friendly solution, and it was only when I plainly saw the Amir's fixed intention to drive us into a corner that I told you we must either sink into a position of merely obeying his behests on all points or stand on our rights and risk rupture. Nothing could have been more distinct, nothing more humiliating to the dignity of the British Crown and nation; and I believe that but for the decision and tact of Cavagnari at one period of the interview, the lives of the British officers and the Native following were in considerable danger.']

[Footnote 6: The approximate strength of the three columns was as follows:

Officers. Men. Guns.

I. The Kandahar Field Force 265 12,599 78

II. The Kuram Field Force 116 6,549 18

III. The Peshawar Valley Field Force 325 15,854 48 ——- ——— —- 706 35,002 144]

[Footnote 7:

'KABUL, '6th October, 1878.

(After compliments.) 'Your Excellency's despatch regarding the sending of a friendly Mission has been received through Nawab Gholam Hussein Khan; I understand its purport, but the Nawab had not yet an audience, nor had your Excellency's letters been seen by me when a communication was received to the address of my servant, Mirza Habibulla Khan, from the Commissioner of Peshawar, and was read. I am astonished and dismayed by this letter, written threateningly to a well-intentioned friend, replete with contentions, and yet nominally regarding a friendly Mission. Coming thus by force, what result, or profit, or fruit, could come of it? Following this, three other letters from above-mentioned source, in the very same strain, addressed to my officials, have been perused by me. Thus, during a period of a few days several letters from that quarter have all been before me, and none of them have been free from harsh expressions and hard words, repugnant to courtesy and politeness, and in tone contrary to the ways of friendship and intercourse. Looking to the fact that I am at this time assaulted by affliction and grief at the hand of fate, and that great trouble has possessed my soul, in the officials of the British Government patience and silence would have been specially becoming. Let your Excellency take into consideration this harsh and breathless haste with which the desired object and place of conference have been seized upon, and how the officials of the Government have been led into discussion and subjection to reproach. There is some difference between this and the pure road of friendship and goodwill. In alluding to those writings of the officials of the opposite Government which have emanated from them, and are at this time in the possession of my own officials, the latter have in no respect desired to show enmity or opposition towards the British Government, nor, indeed, do they with any other Power desire enmity or strife; but when any other Power, without cause or reason, shows animosity towards this Government, the matter is left in the hands of God, and to His will. The esteemed Nawab Gholam Hussein Khan, the bearer of this despatch, has, in accordance with written instructions received from the British Government, asked for permission to retire, and it has been granted.']

[Footnote 8: 25th October.]

* * * * *



CHAPTER XLV. 1878

Shortcomings of my column—Attitude of the Border tribes

It was a proud, albeit a most anxious, moment for me when I assumed command of the Kuram Field Force; though a local Major-General, I was only a Major in my regiment, and save for a short experience on one occasion in Lushai, I had never had an opportunity of commanding troops in the field. Earnestly longing for success, I was intensely interested in ascertaining the qualities of those who were to aid me in achieving it. To this end I lost no time in taking stock of the several officers and corps who were to be associated with me, some of whom were personally known to me, while others I had never met before; and in endeavouring to satisfy myself as to their qualifications and fitness for their several posts, I could not help feeling that they must be equally anxious as to my capability for command, and that the inspection must be of nearly as great moment to them as to me.

The results of a very close investigation were tolerably satisfactory, but there were weak points in my armour which gave me grave cause for anxiety.

I came to the conclusion that the force was not numerically strong enough for the very difficult task before it—in the first instance, the occupation of the Kuram valley and the expulsion of all Afghan garrisons south of the Shutargardan Pass, and in the second, as opportunity might offer, the pushing my reconnaissances into the Khost valley, and, if military considerations would admit, the dislodging the Amir's administration from that tract of country, so as to prevent the Kabul Government drawing supplies from it. Finally, I was directed to explore the roads leading to the unknown region beyond Khost.

The Shutargardan was not less than 180 miles from Kohat, the garrison of which station would, on my departure, be reduced to a minimum, and Rawal Pindi, the nearest place from which aid could be procured, was 130 miles still further off, separated from Kohat by an execrable road and the swiftly-flowing river Indus, crossed by a precarious bridge of boats. It had to be taken into account also that the various Afridi tribes were watching their opportunity, and at the first favourable moment, in common with the tribesmen nearer Kuram, they might be expected to take advantage of our weakness and attack our convoys and the small posts which had necessarily to be established along our line of communication.

The attitude of the Mahomedan sepoys, of whom there were large numbers in four out of my six Native Infantry regiments, was also a cause of considerable anxiety; for I was aware that they were not altogether happy at the prospect of taking part in a war against their co-religionist, the Ruler of Afghanistan, and that the mullas were already urging them to desert our cause.

Furthermore, I discovered that my only British Infantry Regiment, the 2nd Battalion of the 8th Foot, was sickly to a degree, and therefore in an unserviceable condition. It was largely composed of quite young, unacclimatized soldiers, peculiarly susceptible to fever—that terrible scourge which fills the hospitals of our Punjab stations in the autumn of each year. I rode out to meet the battalion on its way into Kohat, and was horrified to see the long line of doolies and ambulance-carts by which it was accompanied.

The inefficient state of the transport added to my anxieties. Notwithstanding the difficulties experienced in former campaigns from the same cause, the Government had neglected to take any steps for the organization of a proper transport service while we were at peace; consequently, when everything should have been ready for a start, confusion reigned supreme in this all-important department. Large numbers of camels, mules, and bullocks arrived daily, picked up at exorbitant prices from anyone who would supply them; but most of these animals were quite unfit to enter upon the hard work of a campaign, and with a totally inexperienced and quite insufficient staff of officers to supervise them, it was evident that the majority must succumb at an early date.

Hardly had I realized these shortcomings in the constitution and equipment of my column than I received intelligence which led me to believe that the Afghans would hold the Peiwar Kotal (the pass leading into Afghanistan over the range of mountains bounding the Kuram valley) in great strength, and were determined to oppose our advance at this point. Under these circumstances I felt myself justified in representing to the powers at Simla that I considered the number of troops at my disposal inadequate for the task they were expected to perform, which representation resulted in the 23rd Pioneers, whose transfer to the Khyber column had been under consideration, being left with me, and the 72nd Highlanders, a battery of Field Artillery, and the 28th Punjab Infantry, being sent to Kohat. Of these, however, I was allowed to take on with me only one wing of the 72nd, half the battery, and the 28th Punjab Infantry; and the last-named regiment I could hardly consider as part of my force, for when we should arrive at Thal, our furthest frontier post, it would have to be dropped, with a wing of the 5th Punjab Cavalry and No. 2 Mountain Battery, to garrison that place.

This small reinforcement was not given to me without considerable demur on the part of the military authorities, who had made up their minds that the Kuram column would meet with slight, if any, opposition, and that the chief stand would be made in the Khyber. Lord Lytton, however, supported my appeal, as did Sir Neville Chamberlain, who was then acting as Military Member of Council, and who had personal knowledge of the great natural strength of the Peiwar Kotal position.

I next turned my attention to the transport, and endeavoured by all the means I could think of to render it more efficient. A certain portion of it I placed in regimental charge; I had the men instructed in loading and unloading, and I took great care that the animals were not overladen.

Happily, I had a very able staff. Major Galbraith, the Assistant-Adjutant-General, though new to the work, proved exceptionally good, and Captain Badcock, the chief Commissariat officer, and Major Collett and Captain 'Dick' Kennedy, officers of the Quartermaster-General's department, whom I had myself selected, I could thoroughly depend upon.

As regards my own personal staff I was equally lucky, Captain Pretyman of the R.A. being my A.D.C., and Lieutenant Neville Chamberlain, of the Central India Horse, and Lieutenant-Colonel George Villiers, of the Grenadier Guards, my Orderly officers.

As political adviser I had with me an old friend and schoolfellow, Colonel Garrow Waterfield, Commissioner of Peshawar, who brought with him a large following of Native gentlemen connected with the frontier, by whom he thought our intercourse with the tribesmen would be assisted. With scarcely an exception they proved loyal, and throughout the campaign helped me materially.

Knowing how important it was to secure the interest of the Chiefs and Khans of the border on our side, especially those who had influence in the Kuram valley, we lost no opportunity of becoming acquainted with them while we were at Kohat. They were friendly and full of promises, but it was clear that the amount of assistance to be given by them depended on whether or not our occupation of Kuram was to be permanent, and on this important point I solicited definite instructions. I reported to the Commander-in-Chief that, from all I had learnt, the advent of a British force would be welcomed by the people, provided they understood that it was the forerunner of annexation; that in this case we should be regarded as deliverers, and all the resources of the country would be placed at our disposal; but if the people were led to believe that the force would be withdrawn when our work was finished, and that they would be again handed over to the tender mercies of the Kabul Government, we must expect no aid from them, as they would naturally dread the resentment of their Afghan rulers.

In reply, I was informed that I could assure the people of Kuram that our occupation would be permanent; and my being enabled to make this promise was undoubtedly the explanation of the friendly reception we met with on entering the valley, and the cause of my receiving at the same time a letter from the Chief of the Turis (the inhabitants of the Kuram valley), inquiring when we might be expected, as they were suffering greatly from the tyranny of the Afghan Government, and were anxiously waiting the arrival of the British.

* * * * *



CHAPTER XLVI. 1878

The Kuram valley—Conflicting news of the enemy —An apparently impregnable position—Spingawi route decided on —Disposition of the force—A night attack —Advantages of a night attack—Devotion of my orderlies —Threatening the enemy's rear—The Peiwar Kotal

By the 15th November my column[1] (consisting of 1,345 British and 3,990 Native soldiers, with 13 guns) was concentrated at Thal, and on the 20th—the limit of time given to the Amir—no reply having been vouchsafed to the Viceroy's ultimatum, orders were issued to the three columns to advance the next day.[2]

The Kuram valley, from which my force received its designation, is about 60 miles long, and from 3 to 10 miles wide. On every side rise high and magnificently-wooded mountains, those on the north and east being the most lofty and precipitous, while on the north-west projects the spur which runs down from Sika Bam, the highest peak of the Sufed Koh range, upwards of 14,000 feet high. This spur forms the boundary between Kuram and Afghanistan, and is crossed by the Peiwar Kotal. A river, which varies from 100 to 500 yards in width, flows through the valley, and the road, or, rather, track, which existed in 1878, ran for the most part along its rocky bed. In the winter months the depth of the water nowhere exceeded three feet, except after heavy rain, and although the stream was rather swift, it could usually be forded with very little risk. The valley itself had a bleak and deserted appearance, save in the immediate vicinity of the few and widely-scattered villages, around which were clustered fruit trees and patches of cultivation.

For six weeks the thoughts of every one in the force had been turned towards Kuram, consequently there was considerable excitement when at 3 a.m. on the 21st November the leading troops crossed the river into Afghan territory and encamped eight miles from Thal. The next morning we marched fifteen miles farther up the valley to Hazir Pir, where we halted for one day to improve the road (in some places impracticable for guns and transport) and to allow of the rear part of the column closing up. As we proceeded on our way, the headmen from the different villages came out to welcome us, and on arriving at Hazir Pir we found a plentiful repast awaiting us spread under the shade of some trees. Knives and forks were evidently considered unnecessary adjuncts by our entertainers, so I unhesitatingly took my first lesson in eating roast kid and pillaued chicken without their aid.

On the 24th we marched to the Darwazai defile, and the next day proceeded through it to Kuram, forty-eight miles from Thal. We found the fort evacuated by the Afghans, who had left behind one 6-pounder gun.

Notwithstanding the proffers of assistance I had received, I could get no reliable information as to the whereabouts of the enemy; from one account I was led to believe that they were in full retreat, from another that they were being strongly reinforced. So, to find out the truth, I reconnoitred as far as the cantonment of Habib Kila, fifteen miles ahead, and there ascertained that the Afghan army, consisting (it was said) of 18,000 men and eleven guns, had left the place only a short time before, and was then moving into position on the Peiwar Kotal.

Depot hospitals were formed at Kuram, and all our surplus stores and baggage were left there with the following garrison: Two guns of F/A, Royal Horse Artillery, half of G/3, R.A., the squadron 10th Hussars, one squadron 12th Bengal Cavalry, and the company of Bengal Sappers and Miners, besides all the sick and weakly men of the column.

At 5 a.m. on the 28th the remainder of the force, with the exception of the troops who had been dropped at the several halting-places to keep open our line of communication, marched towards the Peiwar.

The stars were still shining when we started, but it was very dark, and we were chilled to the bone by a breeze blowing straight off the snows of the Sufed Koh; towards sunrise it died away, and was followed by oppressive heat and clouds of dust. Our progress was slow, for the banks of the numerous nullas which intersect the valleys had to be ramped before the guns and baggage could pass over them.

On reaching Habib Kila, intelligence was again brought that the Amir's troops were in disorderly retreat, and had abandoned their guns at the foot of the pass. I at once pushed a reconnaissance in force up the south-eastern slopes of the mountain under the command of Colonel Gordon,[3] of the 29th Punjab Infantry, who discovered that, so far from the enemy having abandoned their guns, they had taken up an extremely strong position on the pass, from which they fired on the reconnaissance party as it advanced, wounding one British, one Native officer[4] and nine men.

As the Afghans seemed inclined to press Gordon, two guns were brought into action, and, to cover his retirement, I sent out the 5th Gurkhas, under Lieutenant-Colonel Fitz-Hugh, who skilfully effected this object with the loss of only one Gurkha wounded.

Gordon brought me back the valuable piece of information that no further advance in that direction was possible, save in single file—valuable because, had I attempted a front attack, the sacrifice of life must have been enormous, even if the attack had proved successful, the possibility of which I still greatly doubt.

Our tents not having arrived, the force prepared to bivouac; but our position proving untenable, from being within range of the Afghan shells, we moved a mile to the rear. Strong piquets were posted on the neighbouring heights, and the night passed without further interruption.

We halted the two following days. Men and cattle were exhausted from their fatiguing marches, and supplies had to be brought up before we could advance further; besides, I required time to look about me before making up my mind how the Peiwar Kotal could most advantageously be attacked.

It was, indeed, a formidable position—a great deal more formidable than I had expected—on the summit of a mountain rising abruptly 2,000 feet above us, and only approachable by a narrow, steep, and rugged path, flanked on either side by precipitous spurs jutting out like huge bastions, from which an overwhelming fire could be brought to bear on the assailants. The mountain on the enemy's right did not look much more promising for moving troops, and I could only hope that a way might be found on their left by which their flank could be turned. The country, however, in that direction was screened from view by spurs covered with dense forests of deodar.

I confess to a feeling very nearly akin to despair when I gazed at the apparently impregnable position towering above us, occupied, as I could discern through my telescope, by crowds of soldiers and a large number of guns.

My Chief Engineer, Colonel Perkins,[5] made a reconnaissance, which only too surely confirmed Gordon's opinion; and he further ascertained that a deep ravine lay between the ground occupied by our piquets on the north and the kotal, so that an attack on the enemy's immediate left seemed as hopeless as on his right, or to his front.

On the afternoon of the 29th I sent my Quartermaster-General, Major Collett, with his assistant, Captain Carr, and a small escort, to the top of a hill, which lay to the right rear of our camp, from which they were able to get a fairly good view of the surrounding country. Collett reported that, so far as he could judge, it seemed likely that, as I had hoped, the enemy's left might be turned by a route over what was known as the Spingawi Kotal, where it had been ascertained that some Afghan troops were posted. This was encouraging, but before I could finally decide on adopting this line of attack, it was expedient to find out whether it was practicable for troops, and whether the kotal itself was held in great strength. Accordingly, early next morning, Collett was again despatched to make a closer reconnaissance of the Spingawi approaches.

While all this was going on, I did everything I could think of to prevent what was in my mind being suspected by the enemy or, indeed, by my own troops. Each day more than once, accompanied by an imposing number of officers and a considerable escort, I climbed the lofty spur by which a direct attack would have to be covered, and everyone in camp was made to believe that an attack in this direction was being prepared for. I was particularly careful to have this idea impressed on the Turis and the Afghan camel-drivers, by whom the enemy were pretty sure to be informed of what was going on; and also on the Mahomedan sepoys, whom I suspected of being half-hearted. I confided my real plan to only three people, my two senior staff-officers, Galbraith and Collett, and my A.D.C., Pretyman, for I knew, from the nature of the country, that, under the most favourable circumstances, the way must be difficult and circuitous, and its passage must occupy several hours; and that if the Afghans got wind of the contemplated movement, and should attack my small force while on the march and divided, defeat if not annihilation would be inevitable, for the surrounding tribes would be certain to join against us if once they believed us to be in difficulties.

I had heard that the smallness of the column was being freely commented on and discussed; indeed, people in Kuram did not care to disguise their belief that we were hastening to our destruction. Even the women taunted us. When they saw the little Gurkhas for the first time, they exclaimed: 'Is it possible that these beardless boys think they can fight Afghan warriors?' They little suspected that the brave spirits which animated those small forms made them more than a match for the most stalwart Afghan. There was no hiding from ourselves, however, that the force was terribly inadequate for the work to be done. But done it must be. A retirement was not to be thought of, and delay would only add to our difficulties, as the Afghans were daily being reinforced from Kabul, and we heard of still further additions of both Artillery and Infantry being on their way.

Collett returned soon after noon on the 30th; he had done admirably and brought me most useful information, the result of which was that I determined to adopt the Spingawi route. The nights were long, and I calculated that by starting at 10 p.m., and allowing for unforeseen delays, we should reach the foot of the pass while it was still dark.

Fresh efforts were now made to distract the enemy's attention from the real point of attack. In addition to the reconnoitring parties which were ostentatiously moved towards the Peiwar, batteries were marked out at points commanding the kotal, and a great display was made of the arrival of the two Horse and three Field Artillery guns, which I had left at Kuram till the last moment on account of scarcity of forage at the front, and of the two squadrons of Bengal Cavalry, which for the same reason I had sent back to Habib Kila. Even with these additions the total strength of the force in camp, including British officers, amounted to only 889 Europeans and 2,415 Natives, with 13 guns.



These attempts to mislead the enemy were entirely successful, for the Afghans shelled the working parties in the batteries, and placed additional guns in position on the south side of the pass, showing distinctly that they were preparing for a front attack, while in our camp also it was generally believed that this was the movement which would be carried out the next morning.

When it became sufficiently dark to conceal our proceedings, all the commanding and staff officers assembled in my tent, and I disclosed to them my scheme for the attack, impressing upon them that success depended upon our being able to surprise the enemy, and begging of them not even to whisper the word 'Spingawi' to each other.

I had had sufficient time since I took over the command to test the capabilities of the officers and regiments upon whom I had to depend, so that I had now no difficulty in disposing the troops in the manner most likely to ensure success.

For the turning movement I selected:

4 guns F/A, R.H.A., The wing 72nd Highlanders, No 1 Mountain Battery (4 guns), 2nd and 29th Punjab Infantry, 5th Gurkhas, 23rd Pioneers— Total strength 2,263 men with 8 guns;

and I determined to command the attack myself, with Brigadier-General Thelwall as second in command.

For the feint and for the defence of our camp I left under the command of Brigadier-General Cobbe:

2 guns F/A, R.H.A., 3 guns G/3, R.A., 2nd Battalion 8th Foot,[6] 12th Bengal Cavalry, 5th Punjab Infantry.

In all, a little more than 1,000 men with 5 guns.

At 10 p.m. on Sunday, the 1st December, the little column fell in, in absolute silence, and began its hazardous march. Tents were left standing and camp-fires burning; and so noiselessly were orders carried out that our departure remained unsuspected even by those of our own people who were left in camp.

The track (for there was no road) led for two miles due east, and then, turning sharp to the north, entered a wide gorge and ran along the bed of a mountain stream. The moonlight lit up the cliffs on the eastern side of the ravine, but made the darkness only the more dense in the shadow of the steep hills on the west, underneath which our path lay, over piles of stones and heaps of glacier debris. A bitterly cold wind rushed down the gorge, extremely trying to all, lightly clad as we were in anticipation of the climb before us. Onward and upwards we slowly toiled, stumbling over great boulders of rock, dropping into old water-channels, splashing through icy streams, and halting frequently to allow the troops in the rear to close up.

In spite of the danger incurred, I was obliged every now and then to strike a match and look at my watch to see how the time was going. I had calculated that, by starting as early as ten o'clock, there would be an hour or two to spare for rest. The distance, however, proved rather greater than was expected and the road much rougher, but these facts were, to my mind, not sufficient to account for the slowness of our progress, and I proceeded to the head of the column, anxious to discover the true cause of the delay.

I had chosen the 29th Punjab Infantry to lead the way, on account of the high reputation of Colonel John Gordon, who commanded it, and because of the excellent character the regiment had always borne; but on overtaking it my suspicions were excited by the unnecessarily straggling manner in which the men were marching, and to which I called Gordon's attention. No sooner had I done so than a shot was fired from one of the Pathan companies, followed in a few seconds by another. The Sikh companies of the regiment immediately closed up, and Gordon's Sikh orderly whispered in his ear that there was treachery amongst the Pathans.

It was a moment of intense anxiety, for it was impossible to tell how far we were from the Spingawi Kotal, or whether the shots could be heard by the enemy; it was equally impossible to discover by whom the shots had been fired without delaying the advance, and this I was loath to risk. So, grieved though I was to take any steps likely to discredit a regiment with such admirable traditions, I decided to change the order of the march by bringing one company of the 72nd Highlanders and the 5th Gurkhas to the front, and I warned Lieutenant-Colonel Brownlow, in command of the 72nd, to keep a watch over the Pathans with his three remaining companies, for I felt that our enterprise had already been sufficiently imperilled by the Pathans, and that hesitation would be culpable; for, unless we could reach the kotal while our approach was still concealed by the darkness, the turning movement would in all probability end in disaster.

On the Gurkhas coming up, I told Major Fitz-Hugh, who commanded them, that the moment he reached the foot of the kotal, he must front form company, fix bayonets, and charge up the slope without waiting for further orders.

Soon afterwards, and just as the first streak of dawn proclaimed the approach of day, the enemy became aware of our presence, and fired into us, when instantly I heard Fitz-Hugh give the word to charge. Brownlow, at the head of his Highlanders, dashed forward in support, and two guns of the Mountain battery coming up at the moment, I ordered its Commandant, Captain Kelso, to come into action as soon as he could find a position.

I was struck by the smile of satisfied pride and pleasure with which he received the order. He was delighted, no doubt, that the opportunity had arrived to prove what the battery—to perfect which he had spared neither time nor labour—could do; but it was the last time that gallant soldier smiled, for a few seconds later he was shot dead.

The Gurkhas, forgetting their fatigue, rapidly climbed the steep side of the mountain, and, swarming into the first entrenchment, quickly cleared it of the enemy; then, guided by the flashes of the Afghan rifles, they pressed on, and, being joined by the leading company of the 72nd, took possession of a second and larger entrenchment 200 yards higher up. Without a perceptible pause, the Highlanders and Gurkhas together rushed a third position, the most important of all, as it commanded the head of the pass.

The Spingawi Kotal was won; but we were surrounded by woods, which were crowded with Afghans, some 400 of whom made a dashing but ineffectual attempt to carry off their guns, left behind in the first scare of our sudden attack. These men were dressed so exactly like some of our own Native soldiers that they were not recognized until they got within 100 yards of the entrenchment, and they would doubtless have succeeded in accomplishing their purpose—as the Highlanders and Gurkhas were busy pursuing the fugitives—had not Galbraith, whom I had sent with an order to the front, hurriedly collected a certain number of stragglers and met the Afghans with such a murderous fire that they broke and fled, leaving seventy dead in a space of about fifty yards square.

As the rising sun lighted up the scene of the conflict, the advantages of a night attack became more apparent. The pass lay across the shoulder of a mountain (9,400 feet above the sea), and through a magnificent pine forest. Its approaches were commanded by precipitous heights, defended by breastworks of felled trees, which completely screened the defenders, who were quite comfortably placed in wide ditches, from which they could fire deadly volleys without being in the least exposed themselves. Had we not been able to surprise the enemy before the day dawned, I doubt whether, any of us could have reached the first entrenchment. As it was, the regiment holding it fled in such a hurry that a sheepskin coat and from sixty to a hundred rounds of ammunition were left behind on the spot where each man had lain.

We had gained our object so far, but we were still a considerable distance from the body of the Afghan army on the Peiwar Kotal.

Immediately in rear of the last of the three positions on the Spingawi Kotal was a murg, or open grassy plateau, upon which I re-formed the troops who had carried the assault. The 2nd Punjab Infantry, the 23rd Pioneers, and the battery of Royal Horse Artillery were still behind; but as the guns were being transported on elephants, I knew the progress of this part of the force must be slow, and thinking it unwise to allow the Afghans time to recover from their defeat, I determined to push on with the troops at hand.

A field hospital was formed on the murg, and placed under a guard, ammunition-pouches were re-filled, and off we started again, choosing as our route the left of two hog-backed, thickly-wooded heights running almost longitudinally in the direction of the Peiwar Kotal, in the hope that from this route communication might be established with our camp below. I was not disappointed, for very soon Captain Wynne, in charge of the signalling, was able to inform Brigadier-General Cobbe of our progress, and convey to him the order to co-operate with me so far as his very limited numbers would permit.

Our advance was at first unopposed, but very slow, owing to the density of the forest, which prevented our seeing any distance, and made it difficult to keep the troops together.

At the end of two hours we arrived at the edge of a deep hollow, on the further side of which, 150 yards off, the enemy were strongly posted, and they at once opened fire upon us.

Fancy my dismay at this critical moment on discovering that the Highlanders, Gurkhas, and the Mountain battery, had not come up! They had evidently taken a wrong turn in the almost impenetrable forest, and I found myself alone with the 29th Punjab Infantry. Knowing that the missing troops could not be far off, I hoped that they would hear the firing, which was each moment becoming heavier; but some time passed, and there were no signs of their approach. I sent staff officer after staff officer to search for them, until one only remained, the Rev. J.W. Adams, who had begged to be allowed to accompany me as Aide-de-camp for this occasion, and him I also despatched in quest of the missing troops. After some time, which seemed to me an age, he returned to report that no trace could he find of them; so again I started him off in another direction. Feeling the situation was becoming serious, and expecting that the Afghans, encouraged by our inaction, would certainly attack us, I thought it advisable to make a forward movement; but the attitude of the 29th was not encouraging. I addressed them, and expressed a hope that they would now by their behaviour wipe out the slur of disloyalty which the firing of the signal shots had cast upon the regiment, upon which Captain Channer,[7] who was just then in command, stepped forward, and said he would answer for the Sikhs; but amongst the Pathans there was an ominous silence, and Channer agreed with me that they did not intend to fight. I therefore ordered Channer and his subaltern, Picot, to advance cautiously down the slope with the Sikhs of the regiment, following myself near enough to keep the party in sight. I had not gone far, however, before I found that the enemy were much too strongly placed to be attacked successfully by so few men; accordingly I recalled Channer, and we returned to the position at the top of the hill.



My orderlies[8] during this little episode displayed such touching devotion that it is with feelings of the most profound admiration and gratitude I call to mind their self-sacrificing courage. On this (as on many other occasions) they kept close round me, determined that no shot should reach me if they could prevent it; and on my being hit in the hand by a spent bullet, and turning to look round in the direction it came from, I beheld one of the Sikhs standing with his arms stretched out trying to screen me from the enemy, which he could easily do, for he was a grand specimen of a man, a head and shoulders taller than myself.

To my great relief, on my return to the edge of the hollow, Adams met me with the good tidings that he had found not only the lost troops, but the Native Infantry of the rear portion of the column, and had ascertained that the elephants with the guns were close at hand.

Their arrival was most opportune, for the enemy had been reinforced, and, having discovered our numerical weakness, were becoming bolder; they charged down the hill, and were now trying to force their way up to our position, but our Mountain guns were quickly brought into action, and under their cover another attempt was made to drive the Afghans from their position. The 23rd Pioneers, under the command of Colonel Currie, the two front companies led by Captain Anderson, moved down the slope, and were soon lost to view in the thick wood at the bottom of the dell; when they reappeared it was, to my great disappointment, on the wrong side of the hollow: they had failed in the attack, and Anderson and some men had been killed. The enemy's position, it was found, could only be reached by a narrow causeway, which was swept by direct and cross fires, and obstructed by trunks of trees and a series of barricades.

It was evident to me that under these circumstances the enemy could not be cleared out of their entrenchment by direct attack without entailing heavy loss, which I could ill afford and was most anxious to avoid. I therefore reconnoitred both flanks to find, if possible, a way round the hill. On our left front was a sheer precipice; on the right, however, I discovered, to my infinite satisfaction, that we could not only avoid the hill which had defeated us, but could get almost in rear of the Peiwar Kotal itself, and threaten the enemy's retreat from that position.

At this juncture I was further cheered by the arrival of Lieutenant-Colonel Perkins and Major McQueen, who, with the 5th Punjab Infantry, had worked their way up the steep mountain-side, in the hope of getting near to the Peiwar Kotal and co-operating with me. They were, however, checked by the deep ravine I have before described, and, guided by the sound of firing, pushed higher up the hill. They brought me word that the Artillery left in camp had opened fire on the kotal soon after daybreak, and had succeeded in silencing two of the enemy's guns; that our Infantry had crept up within 1,400 yards of the kotal, but were met by such a destructive fire that they could not advance further; that Brigadier-General Cobbe had been severely wounded, and that Colonel Barry Drew had assumed the command. Perkins also gave me the useful information that he had observed on his way up a spur from which the kotal position could be fired upon at a distance of 1,100 yards. To this spot I ordered Lieutenant Sherries, who had succeeded poor Kelso in command of the Mountain battery, to take his guns, and I asked Perkins to return and tell Drew to press on to the kotal, in the hope that Sherries's fire and the turning movement I was about, to make would cause the enemy to retreat.

I sent the 29th Punjab Infantry back to the Spingawi to protect the wounded. I left the 2nd Punjab Infantry in the position we had up till now been occupying, and I took McQueen's regiment with me.

A few rounds from the Mountain battery, and the fact that their rear was threatened and their retreat about to be cut off, soon produced signs of wavering amongst the Afghans. Their Artillery fire slackened, their Infantry broke, and about 2 p.m. Drew and Hugh Gough found it possible to make a move towards the Peiwar Kotal. Gough was the first to reach the crest, closely followed by Lieutenant Brabazon, his orderly officer, and a fine plucky Dogra named Birbul. They were soon joined by some hundreds of Turi levies collected by Waterfield and by the 8th Foot. Another body of levies under Major Palmer,[9] who had done good service by making a feint on the right of the Afghan position, arrived about the same time. Plunder was of course the sole object of the Turis, but their co-operation at the moment was useful, and helped to swell our small numbers. The enemy having evacuated their stronghold and retreated by the Alikhel road, abandoning in their headlong flight guns, waggons, and baggage, were pursued by Hugh Gough, whose Cavalry had by this time come up.



The Peiwar Kotal was not visible from the route we had taken, but just before daylight had quite gone I could make out with the aid of my telescope a large body of Afghans moving towards the Shutargardan, which made me feel quite satisfied that the enemy's position was in our possession.

Night overtook us before we could reach the kotal, and as everyone was thoroughly tired out, having been hard at work since 10 p.m. the night before, with but little food, I thought it better to bivouac where we were, on the southern slope of the Sika Ram mountain. It was hardly a pleasant experience lying on the ground without even cloaks at an elevation of 9,000 feet, and with the thermometer marking twenty degrees of frost; but spite of cold and hunger, thoroughly content with the day's work, and with my mind at rest, I slept as soundly as I had ever done in the most luxurious quarters, and I think others did the same. At any rate, no one that I could hear of suffered from that night's exposure.

We continued our march at daybreak, and reached the kotal in an hour.

The examination of the enemy's position was very interesting. It was of enormous natural strength, the dispositions made for its defence were most complete and judicious, and the impossibility of taking it by other than a turning movement was proved beyond a doubt; it extended from the Spingawi to some commanding heights nearly a mile south of the Peiwar Kotal; thus having a front of about four miles facing due east. From right to left the position ran along a lofty and rugged range of mountains, clothed with dense pine-forests. Towards the eastern side the range was precipitous, but descended on the west by a succession of upland meadows to the valley of the Hariab; it was crossed by only two roads, viz., the Peiwar and Spingawi Kotals; at a few other points there were paths, but too narrow and precipitous for the passage of troops.

The Peiwar Kotal is a narrow depression in the ridge, commanded on each side by high pine-clad mountains. The approach to it from the Kuram valley was up a steep, narrow, zigzag path, commanded throughout its entire length from the adjacent heights, and difficult to ascend on account of the extreme roughness of the road, which was covered with large fragments of rocks and boulders. Every point of the ascent was exposed to fire from both guns and rifles, securely placed behind breastworks constructed of pine-logs and stones. At the top of the path was a narrow plateau, which was again commanded from the thickly-wooded heights on each side, rising to an elevation of 500 feet.

The Afghan Commander had been quite confident of success, and was only waiting for reinforcements to attack our camp; but these reinforcements did not arrive until the afternoon of the 1st December, just too late for him to carry out his intention. He had under his command eight Regular regiments of the Afghan army, and eighteen guns; while these numbers were augmented by hordes of neighbouring tribesmen, who were only too glad to respond to the cry of a jahad against the infidel, firmly believing that as true believers their cause would be victorious.

Our loss at the Peiwar was not great—2 officers and 18 men killed, and 3 officers and 75 men wounded. The Afghans suffered much more severely, besides leaving in our possession all their guns, with quantities of ammunition and other warlike stores.

[Footnote 1: The details of the column are given in the Appendix. (Appendix III.)]

[Footnote 2: On the 30th November a subordinate officer of the Kabul Government reached Sir Samuel Browne's camp at Daka, and delivered the following letter from the Amir to the address of the Viceroy:

'FROM HIS HIGHNESS THE AMIR OF KABUL TO THE VICEROY OF INDIA. 'KABUL, 19th November, 1878.

'Be it known to your Excellency that I have received, and read from beginning to end, the friendly letter which your Excellency has sent, in reply to the letter I despatched by Nawab Ghulam Hussein Khan. With regard to the expressions used by your Excellency in the beginning of your letter, referring to the friendly character of the Mission and the goodwill of the British Government, I leave it to your Excellency, whose wisdom and justice are universally admitted, to decide whether any reliance can be placed upon goodwill, if it be evidenced by words only. But if, on the other hand, goodwill really consists of deeds and actions, then it has not been manifested by the various wishes that have been expressed, and the proposals that have been made by British officials during the last few years to officials of this God-granted Government—proposals which, from their nature, it was impossible for them to comply with.

'One of these proposals referred to my dutiful son, the ill-starred wretch, Mahomed Yakub Khan, and was contained in a letter addressed by the officials of the British Government to the British Agent then residing in Kabul. It was written in that letter that, "if the said Yakub Khan be released and set at liberty, our friendship with the Afghan Government will be firmly cemented, but that otherwise it will not."

'There are several other grounds of complaint of similar nature, which contain no evidence of goodwill, but which, on the contrary, were effective in increasing the aversion and apprehension already entertained by the subjects of this God-granted Government.

'With regard to my refusal to receive the British Mission, your Excellency has stated that it would appear from my conduct that I was actuated by feelings of direct hostility towards the British Government.

'I assure your Excellency that, on the contrary, the officials of this God-granted Government, in repulsing the Mission, were not influenced by any hostile or inimical feelings towards the British Government, nor did they intend that any insult or affront should be offered. But they were afraid that the independence of this Government might be affected by the arrival of the Mission, and that the friendship which has now existed between the two Governments for several years might be annihilated.

'A paragraph in your Excellency's letter corroborates the statement which they have made to this Government. The feelings of apprehension which were aroused in the minds of the people of Afghanistan by the mere announcement of the intention of the British Government to send a Mission to Kabul, before the Mission itself had actually started or arrived at Peshawar, have subsequently been fully justified by the statement in your Excellency's letter, that I should be held responsible for any injury that might befall the tribes who acted as guides to the Mission, and that I should be called upon to pay compensation to them for any loss they might have suffered; and that if, at any time, these tribes should meet with ill-treatment at my hands, the British Government would at once take steps to protect them.

'Had these apprehensions proved groundless, and had the object of the Mission been really friendly, and no force or threats of violence used, the Mission would, as a matter of course, have been allowed a free passage, as such Missions are customary and of frequent occurrence between allied States. I am now sincerely stating my own feelings when I say that this Government has maintained, and always will maintain, the former friendship which existed between the two Governments, and cherishes no feelings of hostility and opposition towards the British Government.

'It is also incumbent upon the officials of the British Government that, out of respect and consideration for the greatness and eminence of their own Government, they should not consent to inflict any injury upon their well-disposed neighbours, and to impose the burden of grievous troubles upon the shoulders of their sincere friends. But, on the contrary, they should exert themselves to maintain the friendly feelings which have hitherto existed towards this God-granted Government, in order that the relations between the two Governments may remain on the same footing as before; and if, in accordance with the custom of allied States, the British Government should desire to send a purely friendly and temporary Mission to this country, with a small escort, not exceeding twenty or thirty men, similar to that which attended the Russian Mission, this servant of God will not oppose its progress.'

It was ascertained that this messenger had come to Basawal on the 22nd November, when, hearing of the capture of Ali Masjid by British troops, he immediately returned to Kabul. The Amir's letter, though dated the 19th November, was believed to have been re-written at Kabul after the news of the fall of Ali Masjid. The text of this letter was telegraphed to the Secretary of State on the 7th December; in reply Lord Cranbrook pointed out that the letter evaded all the requirements specified in the Viceroy's ultimatum, and could not have been accepted even if it had reached him before the 20th November.]

[Footnote 3: Now General J. Gordon, C.B., Assistant Military Secretary, Horse Guards.]

[Footnote 4: The Native officer was Subadar-Major Aziz Khan, a fine old soldier who had seen hard work with his regiment during the Mutiny, and in many a frontier expedition. He twice obtained the Order of Merit for bravery in the field, and for his marked gallantry on one occasion he had received a sword of honour and a khilat (a dress of honour or other present bestowed as a mark of distinction). Aziz Khan was shot through the knee, and after a few days the wound became so bad the Doctors told him that, unless he submitted to amputation, or consented to take some stimulants in the shape of wine, he would die of mortification. Aziz Khan, who was a strict and orthodox Mahomedan, replied that, as both remedies were contrary to the precepts of the religion by which he had guided his life, he would accept death rather than disobey them. He died accordingly.]

[Footnote 5: Now General Sir AEneas Perkins, K.C.B.]

[Footnote 6: The strength of this battalion had now dwindled down to 348 men.]

[Footnote 7: Now Major-General Channer, V.C., C.B.]

[Footnote 8: I had six orderlies attached to me—two Sikhs, two Gurkhas, and two Pathans. The Sikhs and Gurkhas never left me for a day during the two years I was in Afghanistan. The Pathans behaved equally well, but they fell sick, and had to be changed more than once. Whenever I emerged from my tent, two or more of the orderlies appeared and kept close by me. They had always good information as to what was going on, and I could generally tell whether there was likely to be trouble or not by the number in attendance; they put themselves on duty, and decided how many were required. One of the Gurkhas is since dead, but the other and the two Sikhs served with me afterwards in Burma, and all three now hold the high position of Subadar in their respective regiments.]

[Footnote 9: Now Major-General Sir Arthur Palmer, K.C.B.]

* * * * *



CHAPTER XLVII. 1878-1879

Alikhel—Treachery of the tribesmen—Transport difficulties —Sher Ali looks to Russia for aid—Khost—An attack on our camp —An unsuccessful experiment—An unpleasant incident —Punjab Chiefs' Contingent



Perceiving that further pursuit of the enemy would be useless, I decided to halt a few days to admit of our overtaxed transport bringing up supplies and tents, and to arrange for the occupation of the Peiwar position during the winter months. But I considered that my work would be incomplete if we stopped short of the Shutargardan Pass. Moreover, it was very desirable that we should investigate this route, and, if possible, get into friendly communication with some of the sections of the Ghilzai tribe. The Jajis, through whose territory the first part of the road ran, now showed themselves to be as well disposed as the Turis; they readily brought in supplies, and volunteered to labour for us, and from the information obtained by the political officers, the inhabitants of the Hariab valley seemed equally anxious to be friendly. The dislodgment of the Afghan army by a much smaller force, from a position they had themselves chosen, had evidently had a salutary effect.

As soon as I had leisure, I inquired from Colonel Gordon whether he had been able to discover the men who had fired the signal shots on the night of the 2nd, and whether he did not think that the Pathan Native officers ought to be able to point out the offenders. Gordon replied that he suspected the Jemadar of the Pathan company knew who the culprits were, and that one soldier had confessed to firing the second shot; moreover, he told me that eighteen Pathans had left the regiment during the fight. On receiving this unpleasant information, I assembled a Court of Inquiry, with orders to have the proceedings ready for my consideration by the time I returned from the Shutargardan.



Having despatched the sick and wounded to Kuram and made all necessary arrangements, I marched on the 6th December to Alikhel, twelve miles on the road to the Shutargardan. Before starting, I issued an order thanking the troops for the efforts they had made to ensure success, and I had the honour of communicating to them at the same time a congratulatory message from the Queen.[1]

We reached the foot of the Shutargardan on the 8th, and reconnoitred to the top of the pass the next morning. This point was 11,000 feet above the sea, commanded a fine view of the Logar valley, and I discovered from it that there was nothing between us and the immediate vicinity of Kabul to prevent a force moving rapidly on that place.

We returned to Alikhel on the 10th, and, as it was important to retain control of this advanced post, I decided to leave Captain Rennick in political charge, a duty for which his nerve and determination of character eminently fitted him. Colonel Waterfield, as a temporary arrangement, remained there also with a battery of Artillery and two regiments of Punjab Infantry, for the purpose of establishing friendly relations with the neighbouring tribesmen.

From Alikhel there were said to be two roads leading to Kuram, besides the difficult path over the Peiwar Kotal; and as it was of great importance to gain a knowledge of an alternative line of communication, in view of further trouble, I determined to explore one of them, choosing that which appeared to be the shortest, and which I heard had been used some time before by an Afghan Mountain battery. This route was described as practicable for camels, and ran through lands belonging to tribes whose headmen were with me, a fact which should, I thought, ensure our being free from attack.

I left Alikhel on the 12th December, taking with me No. 1 Mountain Battery, a wing 72nd Highlanders, the 5th Gurkhas, and the 23rd Pioneers. The route lay for four miles along the banks of the Hariab stream, a tributary of the Kuram river, through a valley which gradually narrowed into a thickly-wooded ravine, three miles long: at the end of this ravine the road, turning sharply to the left, ascended till it reached an open grassy plateau, on which stood the hamlet of Sapari. The inhabitants turned out to welcome us, bringing supplies, and appearing so friendly that I settled to halt there for the night. I had been warned, however, by the maliks of some of the villages we had passed through in the morning, that we should probably be attacked on the march the next day, and that a defile which lay at the other side of a mountain over which we had to cross would be particularly dangerous to us. I determined, therefore, to send on troops that evening to occupy the pass over this mountain, and to start the baggage off long before daybreak, so that it should be out of the way of the main body, which would also have to march at an early hour in order to reach the kotal before the tribesmen had time to collect.

This could have been accomplished without difficulty, but for the machinations of our false friends in the village, who directed on to the precipitous path we had to ascend a stream of water which soon turned into a sheet of ice, and when I arrived on the spot I found the road blocked by fallen animals vainly struggling to regain their footing. This caused so much delay that it was nearly noon before the last camel had got over the pass.

The descent on the other side was scarcely less difficult, though free from ice. We dropped 3,000 feet in the first two miles, down a way which can only be described as a ruined staircase, with the steps missing at intervals, ending in the defile against the dangers of which we had been warned. This defile was certainly a nasty place to be caught in, being five miles long, and so narrow that the camels' loads struck against the rocks on either side; and it was impossible to move flanking parties along the cliffs above, as they were intersected by wide chasms running back for long distances.

It was important to secure the exit from this gorge without delay, and for this purpose I pushed on four companies of the 23rd Pioneers, and in support, when the ravine began to widen out a little, I hurried on the Highlanders and the Mountain battery, leaving the Gurkhas to protect the baggage and bring up the rear.

We only got possession of the exit just in time. The Pioneers, by occupying commanding positions on either side of the opening, effectually checkmated several large bodies of armed men who were approaching from different directions, and whose leaders now declared they had only come to help us! Later on we discovered still more formidable gatherings, which doubtless would have all combined to attack us, had they been in time to catch us in the ravine.

The tail of the column was followed and much harassed by the enemy; but they were kept at bay by the steadiness of the gallant Gurkhas, and so successful were they in safe-guarding the baggage, that, although many of the drivers ran away at the first shot, leaving the soldiers to lead the animals as well as defend them, not a single article fell into the hands of the tribesmen. The regiment lost three men killed, and Captain Powell and eleven men wounded. Captain Goad, of the Transport Department, was also badly hurt.[2]



On Goad being knocked over, Sergeant Greer, of the 72nd Highlanders, assisted by three privates, picked him up, and having placed him under cover of a rock, they turned their attention to the enemy. They were only four against large numbers, but by their cool and steady use of the Martini-Henry rifle, which had shortly before been issued to the British soldiers in India, they were enabled to hold their ground until help arrived, when they succeeded in carrying the wounded officer away.

I had observed in the advance on the Peiwar Kotal the skill and gallantry displayed by Sergeant Greer, and noted him as a man fitted for promotion. His distinguished conduct in rescuing and defending Goad confirmed me in my opinion, and I accordingly recommended him for a commission, which, to my great gratification, Her Majesty was graciously pleased to bestow upon him.