From the information obtained by this reconnaissance, I found that it was quite practicable to turn the Afghan right, and thus place myself in rear of the Baba Wali range; I decided, therefore, to attack the position the following morning. It was too close to our camp to risk delay. Moreover, I knew that the retrograde movement of Gough's small body would be construed into a defeat by the enemy, who, if we did not move at once, would assuredly think that we were afraid to take the initiative, and would become correspondingly bold.

I accordingly issued orders for the troops to breakfast at 7 a.m., and for one day's cooked rations to be carried by the Infantry and two days by the Cavalry and Horse Artillery. Brigades were to be in position by eight o'clock, tents being previously struck and the baggage stored in a walled enclosure.

The night passed quietly except for occasional bursts of musketry along the line of piquets to the west, showing that the Afghans were holding the villages they had occupied the previous evening.

[Footnote 1: The garrison consisted of 2 guns of C/2, Royal Artillery, 145 rifles of the 66th Foot, 100 of the 3nd Sind Horse, and the 2nd Baluch Regiment, 639 strong.]

[Footnote 2: Now Lieutenant-General Sir Oriel Tanner, K.C.B.]

[Footnote 3: Estimate of daily requirements for the Kabul-Kandahar Field Force and the Kelat-i-Ghilzai garrison:

Europeans 3,200 Native troops 8,000 Followers 8,500 Horses 2,300 Transport —yabus 1,592, mules and ponies 5,926, camels 400, donkeys 400.

Meat 4,000 lbs. Bread-stuff 40 maunds.[*] Vegetables 4,000 lbs. Rice 800 " Salt 133 " Sugar 600 " Tea 150 " Rum, 25 per cent. 80 gallons. Atta 320 maunds. Dall 51-1/2 " Ghee 19-1/4 " Salt 8-1/2 " Grain 700 "

A. R. BADCOCK, Major, Deputy Commissary-General.

KELAT-I-GHILZAI, 24th August, 1880.

[Note *: A maund is equivalent to 80 lbs.] ]

[Footnote 4: The effective garrison consisted of 1,000 British soldiers, 3,000 Native soldiers, and fifteen Field guns.]

[Footnote 5: One and all bore testimony to the unfailing good behaviour and creditable bearing of the Royal Artillery and the Bombay Sappers and Miners, not only during the investment, but in the very trying time of the retreat from Maiwand.]

[Footnote 6: The walls had an average height of 30 feet, and breadth of 15 feet on the north and east fronts.]

[Footnote 7: Two Royal Artillery guns, 3rd Bengal Cavalry, and 15th Sikhs. Lieutenant-Colonel Chapman accompanied the party, and was of great assistance to Brigadier-General Gough.]

* * * * *



CHAPTER LXII. 1880

Commencement of the fight—72nd Highlanders and 2nd Sikhs —92nd Highlanders and 2nd Gurkhas—Ayub Khan's camp —Difficulties about supplies—Parting with the troops —A pleasing memory

The next morning, the 1st September, in accordance with instructions from Simla, I assumed command of the army in southern Afghanistan. There was no return to show the strength or composition of General Phayre's column, but the troops at Kandahar all told now amounted in round numbers to 3,800 British and 11,000 Native soldiers, with 36 guns.

An hour before daybreak the whole of the troops were under arms, and at 6 a.m. I explained to Generals Primrose and Ross and the officers commanding brigades the plan of operations. Briefly, it was to threaten the enemy's left (the Baba Wali Kotal), and to attack in force by the village of Pir Paimal.

The Infantry belonging to the Kabul column, upon whom devolved the duty of carrying the enemy's position, were formed up in rear of the low hills which covered the front of our camp, their right being at Piquet Hill and their left resting on Chitral Zina. The Cavalry of the Kabul column were drawn up in rear of the left, ready to operate by Gundigan towards the head of the Arghandab, so as to threaten the rear of Ayub Khan's camp and his line of retreat in the direction of Girishk. Four guns of E Battery Royal Horse Artillery, two companies of the 2-7th Fusiliers, and four companies of the 28th Bombay Infantry, were placed at the disposal of Brigadier-General Hugh Gough, whose orders were to occupy with these troops the position above Gundigan, which had been so useful during the previous day's reconnaissance, and to push his Cavalry on to the Arghandab.

Guards having been detailed for the protection of the city, the remainder of Lieutenant-General Primrose's troops were ordered to be disposed as follows: Brigadier-General Daubeny's brigade to occupy the ground between Piquet Hill and Chitral Zina as soon as the Infantry of the Kabul-Kandahar Field Force advanced to the attack. The remnant of Brigadier-General Burrows's brigade, with No. 5 Battery, 11th Brigade Royal Artillery, under Captain Hornsby, and the Cavalry under Brigadier-General Nuttall, to take up a position north of the cantonment, from which the 40-pounders could be brought to bear on the Baba Wali Kotal, while the Cavalry could watch the pass, called Kotal-i-Murcha, and cover the city.

From an early hour it was clear that the enemy contemplated an offensive movement; the villages of Gundigan and Gundi Mulla Sahibdab were being held in strength, and a desultory fire was brought to bear on the British front from the orchards connecting these two villages and from the Baba Wali Kotal.

The Bombay Cavalry moved out at 7.30 a.m., and Daubeny's brigade at eight o'clock. Burrows's troops followed, and shortly after 9 a.m., their disposition being completed, Captain Hornsby opened fire upon the kotal, which was one mass of ghazis.

This feint, made by General Primrose's troops, having had the effect I had hoped, of attracting the enemy's attention, I gave the order for Major-General Ross to make the real attack with the 1st and 2nd Brigades of his division. The 3rd Brigade, under Brigadier-General Macgregor, I placed in front of the village of Abbasabad, with the double object of being a reserve to the 1st and 2nd Brigades and of meeting a possible counter-attack from the Baba Wali Kotal.

Ross's orders were to advance against Gundi Mulla Sahibdad, capture the village, and then drive the enemy from the enclosures which lay between it and the low spur of Pir Paimal hill. This duty he entrusted to Brigadier-General Macpherson, and he directed Brigadier-General Baker to advance to the west, to keep touch with the 1st Brigade, and to clear the gardens and orchards in his immediate front.

Greig's 9-pounder and Robinson's 7-pounder (screw gun) batteries covered the attack on Gundi Mulla Sahibdad, which was made by the 2nd Gurkhas, under Lieutenant-Colonel Arthur Battye, and the 92nd Highlanders, under Lieutenant-Colonel G. Parker, supported by the 23rd Pioneers, under Lieutenant-Colonel H. Collett, and the 24th Punjab Infantry, under Colonel F. Norman. The village was carried with the utmost gallantry, Highlanders and Gurkhas, always friendly rivals in the race for glory, by turns outstripping each other in their efforts to be first within its walls. The enemy sullenly and slowly withdrew, a goodly number of ghazis remaining to the very last to receive a bayonet charge of the 92nd. Meanwhile, Baker's troops had been threading their way through the narrow lanes and loop-holed enclosures which lay in the line of their spirited attack; the resistance they encountered was most stubborn, and it was during this advance that the 72nd lost their dashing Commander, Lieutenant-Colonel F. Brownlow,[1] Captain Frome, and Lance-Sergeant Cameron, the latter a grand specimen of a Highland soldier.

In the 2nd Brigade, the 72nd Highlanders and the 2nd Sikhs bore the brunt of the fighting; they were the leading battalions, and frequently had to fix bayonets to carry different positions or to check the desperate rushes of the Afghans.

After continued and severe fighting, both leading brigades emerged at the point of the hill close to Pir Paimal, and, wheeling to their right, they pressed rapidly on, sweeping the enemy through the thickly-wooded gardens which covered the western slopes, until noon, when the whole of Pir Paimal was in our possession.[2]

During the early part of the advance the Afghans collected in great strength on the low hills beneath the Baba Wali Kotal, evidently preparing for a rush on our guns; their leaders could be seen urging them on, and a portion of them came down the hill, but the main body apparently refused to follow, and remained on the crest until the position was turned, when they at once retreated.

Having become assured of General Ross's complete success, and seeing that there was now no necessity for detaining Macgregor's (the 3rd) brigade to meet a counter-attack, I pushed on with it to join Ross, who, however, knowing how thoroughly he could depend upon his troops, without waiting to be reinforced, followed up the retreating foe, until he reached an entrenched position at the other side of the Baba Wali Kotal, where the Afghans made another most determined stand. Ghazis in large numbers flocked to this spot from the rear, while the guns on the kotal were turned round and brought to bear on our men, already exposed to a heavy Artillery fire from behind the entrenched camp.

It now became necessary to take this position by storm, and recognizing the fact with true soldierly instinct, Major White, who was leading the advanced companies of the 92nd, called upon the men for just one charge more 'to close the business.' The battery of screw guns had been shelling the position, and, under cover of its fire and supported by a portion of the 2nd Gurkhas and 23rd Pioneers, the Highlanders, responding with alacrity to their leader's call, dashed forward and drove the enemy from their entrenchments at the point of the bayonet.[3]

Major White was the first to reach the guns, being closely followed by Sepoy Inderbir Lama, who, placing his rifle upon one of them, exclaimed, 'Captured in the name of the 2nd (Prince of Wales' Own) Gurkhas!'

Whilst the 1st Brigade was advancing towards the last position, a half-battalion of the 3rd Sikhs (belonging to the 2nd Brigade), under Lieutenant-Colonel G. Money, charged a body of Afghans and captured three guns.

The enemy were now absolutely routed, but, owing to the nature of the ground, it was impossible for General Ross to realize how complete had been his victory, and he fully expected that the enemy would take up a fresh position further on; he therefore ordered the 1st and 2nd Brigades to halt while they replenished their ammunition, and then proceeded for about a mile, when they suddenly came in sight of Ayub Khan's enormous camp. It was entirely deserted, and apparently stood as it had been left in the morning when the Afghans moved out to the attack. With his camp was captured the whole of Ayub Khan's Artillery, thirty-two pieces, including our two Horse Artillery guns[4] which had been taken at Maiwand on the 27th July.

Further pursuit by the Infantry being valueless, the 1st and 2nd Brigades halted on the far side of Mazra, where I with the 3rd Brigade shortly afterwards joined them.

Brigadier-General Hugh Gough, having satisfied himself as to the security of our left flank, scouted as far as Kohkeran, and then proceeded with the Cavalry of the Kabul-Kandahar Field Force to execute the extended movement entrusted to him. He crossed the Arghandab, and pushed round to get in front of the line of the enemy's retreat towards Khakrez. Some ghazis and Irregular Afghan troops were overtaken, but no Regular regiments were met with, the soldiers having, as is their custom, quickly divested themselves of their uniform and assumed the garb of harmless agriculturists.

Ayub Khan himself had fled early in the day with his principal Sirdars.

As I rode into the abandoned camp, I was horrified to hear that the body of Maclaine, the Horse Artillery officer who had been taken prisoner at Maiwand, was lying with the throat cut about forty yards from Ayub Khan's own tent. From what I could learn, the latter had not actually ordered the murder, but as a word from him would have prevented it, he must be held responsible for the assassination of an officer who had fallen into his hands as a prisoner of war.

Our losses during the day comprised: killed, 3 British officers,[5] 1 Native officer, and 36 men; wounded, 11 British officers, 4 Native officers, and 195 men, 18 of whom succumbed to their wounds. It was difficult to estimate the loss of the enemy, but it must have been heavy, as between Kandahar and the village of Pir Paimal alone 600 bodies were buried by us.

With the exception of the 1st Brigade, which remained at Mazra for the night to protect the captured guns and stores, the troops all returned to camp before 9 p.m.[6]

Utterly exhausted as I was from the hard day's work and the weakening effects of my late illness, the cheers with which I was greeted by the troops as I rode into Ayub Khan's camp and viewed the dead bodies of my gallant soldiers nearly unmanned me, and it was with a very big lump in my throat that I managed to say a few words of thanks to each corps in turn. When I returned to Kandahar, and threw myself on the bed in the little room prepared for me, I was dead-beat and quite unequal to the effort of reporting our success to the Queen or to the Viceroy. After an hour's rest, however, knowing how anxiously news from Kandahar was looked for both in England and India, I managed to pull myself together sufficiently to write out and despatch the following telegram:

'KANDAHAR, '1st September, 1880 (6 p.m.).

'Ayub Khan's army was to-day defeated and completely dispersed with, I hope, comparatively slight loss on our side; his camp was captured, the two lost guns of E Battery, B Brigade Royal Horse Artillery were recovered, and several wheeled guns of various calibre fell to the splendid Infantry of this force; the Cavalry are still in pursuit. Our casualties are: 22nd Foot, Captain Straton, killed; 72nd Highlanders, Lieutenant-Colonel Brownlow, Captain Frome, killed, Captain Murray and Lieutenant Monro, wounded, 7 men killed, 18 wounded; 92nd Highlanders, Lieutenants Menzies and Donald Stewart wounded, 11 men killed and 39 wounded; 2nd Gurkhas, Lieutenant-Colonel Battye, and 2nd Sikhs, Major Slater wounded. It is at present impossible to ascertain the casualties amongst the Native troops, but I have no reason to believe they are excessive; full details will be telegraphed to-morrow. The quite recently murdered remains of Lieutenant Maclaine, Royal Horse Artillery, were found on the arrival of the British troops in Ayub Khan's camp. Ayub Khan is supposed to have fled towards Herat.'

It can easily be imagined with what an intense sense of relief I awoke on the morning of the 2nd September—the march had ended, Kandahar had been relieved, Ayub Khan's army had been beaten and dispersed, and there was an adequate force in southern Afghanistan to prevent further disturbances.

Amongst the innumerable questions of detail which now confronted me was the all-important one, and that which caused me greatest anxiety, of how the large body of troops hastily concentrated at Kandahar, and for which the produce of the country was quite inadequate, were to be fed.

No supplies and very little forage were procurable between Quetta and Kandahar, and in the neighbourhood of the latter place there was now hardly anything in the shape of food for man or beast to be had for love or money, the resources of this part of the country having been quite exhausted. Relief could only be obtained by reducing the number of mouths to be fed, and with this object I scattered the troops in different directions, to posts as far distant from each other as possible, consistent with safety; and in accordance with my promise to the Kabul-Kandahar Field Force, that they should not be required to garrison Kandahar when the fighting was at an end, I arranged to despatch without delay to India the corps which had come with me from northern Afghanistan.



One column proceeded to Maiwand to inter the bodies of our soldiers who fell on the 27th July. The Cavalry brigade moved with a number of sick men and transport animals to Kohkeran. Macgregor's brigade started for Quetta on the 8th, and was followed soon after by Baker's and Macpherson's brigades. I accompanied Macgregor in the hope that the change to Quetta (where I remained about a month) would pick me up, and enable me to meet Lord Ripon's wish that I should retain the command in southern Afghanistan until some satisfactory settlement could be arrived at.

Before leaving Kandahar I issued an order thanking all ranks of the Kabul-Kandahar Field Force for the work they had so nobly performed, and I had the gratification of acknowledging, on their behalf and my own, congratulatory messages from the Queen, the Duke of Cambridge, the Marquis of Ripon, and many others. On the way to Quetta I had the further gratification of being informed by the Viceroy that Her Majesty had been graciously pleased to make me a G.C.B., and to appoint me Commander-in-Chief of the Madras Army.

I now heard that Abdur Rahman had been finally nominated Amir of Kabul on the 10th August, and that immediately after the ceremony of installation Sir Donald Stewart had marched the whole British force of 6,678 men of all arms out of Kabul on their return to India. Sir Donald left Peshawar to take up his appointment of Military Member of Council at Simla on the 31st August, and by the 7th September the last of his troops had arrived at the former place, except one brigade left as a temporary measure in the Khyber Pass.

At Quetta I stayed with Sir Robert Sandeman, the capable Resident, who by his great personal influence had done much to allay excitement amongst the tribes, and to prevent serious trouble in Baluchistan and along the border. I had never before been to that part of the frontier, and I was greatly impressed by the hold Sandeman had obtained over the country; he was intimately acquainted with every leading man, and there was not a village, however out of the way, which he had not visited. 'Sinniman sahib,' as the Natives called him, had gained the confidence of the lawless Baluchis in a very remarkable manner, and it was mainly owing to his power over them that I was able to arrange with camel contractors to transport to Quetta and Kandahar the huge stocks of winter clothing, medical comforts, grain, and the various requirements of an army in the field, which had been brought by rail to Sibi, and had there remained for want of transport to take them further on.

As the change to Quetta did not benefit me, and as I found that, owing to indifferent health, I was unable to carry on my duty with satisfaction to myself, I applied to be relieved. My request was acceded to, and I started on the 12th October for India.

Riding through the Bolan Pass I overtook most of the regiments of the Kabul-Kandahar Field Force marching towards Sibi, thence to disperse to their respective destinations. As I parted with each corps in turn its band played 'Auld Lang Syne,' and I have never since heard that memory-stirring air without its bringing before my mind's eye the last view I had of the Kabul-Kandahar Field Force. I fancy myself crossing and re-crossing the river which winds through the pass; I hear the martial beat of drums and plaintive music of the pipes; and I see Riflemen and Gurkhas, Highlanders and Sikhs, guns and horses, camels and mules, with the endless following of an Indian army, winding through the narrow gorges, or over the interminable boulders which made the passage of the Bolan so difficult and wearisome to man and beast.

I shall never forget the feeling of sadness with which I said good-bye to the men who had done so much for me. I looked upon them all, Native as well as British, as my valued friends. And well I might, for never had a Commander been better served. From first to last a grand spirit of camaraderie[7] pervaded all ranks. At the Peiwar Kotal, at Charasia, and during the fighting round Kabul, all were eager to close with the enemy, no matter how great the odds against them. Throughout the march from Kabul all seemed to be animated with but one desire, to effect, cost what it might in personal risk, fatigue, or discomfort, the speedy release of their beleaguered fellow-soldiers in Kandahar; and the unflagging energy and perseverance of my splendid troops seemed to reach their full height, when they realized they were about to put forth their strength against a hitherto successful enemy. Their exemplary conduct, too, under circumstances often of the most trying nature, cannot be praised in terms too strong or too full. Notwithstanding the provocation caused by the cruel murder of any stragglers who fell into the hands of the Afghans, not one act infringing the rules of civilized warfare was committed by my troops. The persons and property of the Natives were respected, and full compensation for supplies was everywhere given. In short, the inhabitants of the district through which we passed could not have been treated with greater consideration nor with a lighter hand, had they proved themselves friendly allies, and the conduct of the troops will ever be to me as pleasing a memory as are the results which they achieved.

[Footnote 1: Brownlow's death was a great loss, for throughout the war he had frequently distinguished himself as a leader—at the Peiwar Kotal, during the operations round Kabul, and notably on the 14th December, when he won the admiration of the whole force by his brilliant conduct in the attack on the Asmai heights.]

[Footnote 2: The following Native officers, British and Native non-commissioned officers, and Native soldiers were brought forward as having been very conspicuous during this part of the fight:

Colour-Sergeant G. Jacobs 72nd Highlanders. Colour-Sergeant R. Lauder " " Lance-Corporal J. Gordon " " Subadar-Major Gurbaj Sing 2nd Sikhs. Jemadar Alla Sing " " Naick Dir Sing " " Sepoy Hakim " " Sepoy Taj Sing " " Sepoy Pertap Sing " " Sepoy Bir Sing " "]

[Footnote 3: During this engagement the following officers and men were specially remarked for their gallantry:

Major G. White 92nd Highlanders. Lieutenant C. Douglas " " Corporal William McGillvray " " Private Peter Grieve " " Private D. Grey " " Major Sullivan Becher 2nd Gurkhas. Havildar Gopal Borah " " Sepoy Inderbir Lama " " Sepoy Tikaram Kwas " "]

[Footnote 4: These guns were presented to me by the Indian Government, and are now at the Royal Hospital Dublin.]

[Footnote 5: The third British officer killed was Captain Straton, 22nd Foot, Superintendent of Army Signalling, a most accomplished officer, under whose direction signalling as applied to Field Service reached a wonderful pitch of perfection. His energy knew no difficulties, and his enthusiasm was beyond praise.]

[Footnote 6: The ammunition expended by the Kabul-Kandahar Field Force on the 31st August and 1st September was:

Rounds.

Gun 102 /Shrapnel shell 78 Common " 24 Rifle 57,705 /Martini-Henry 15,129 Snider 42,576

and in addition 313 rounds were fired by the Artillery, and 4,971 rounds by the Infantry of the Kandahar Garrison.]

[Footnote 7: The 72nd Highlanders and 5th Gurkhas were brigaded together throughout the campaign, and at their return to India the latter regiment presented the former with a shield bearing the following inscription:

FROM THE

MEN OF THE 5TH GURKHAS

TO THE

MEN OF THE 72ND (DUKE OF ALBANY'S OWN) HIGHLANDERS,

IN REMEMBRANCE OF

THE AFGHAN CAMPAIGN, 1878 TO 1880.

The gift was entirely spontaneous, and was subscribed for by the Native officers, non-commissioned officers, and men.

In return, the non-commissioned officers and men of the 72nd gave the 5th Gurkhas a very handsome ebony, silver-mounted Drum-Major's staff.]

* * * * *



CHAPTER LXIII. 1880-1884

Reception in England—A fruitless journey—Andaman Isles and Burma —The Madras Army—Measures for improving the Madras Army —Memories of Madras—An allegory

On the 15th October I handed over my command to Major-General Phayre, and started for England, making, by the desire of the Viceroy, a diversion to Simla, where Lord Ripon received me most kindly, and, to my great pride and pleasure, delivered to me a letter from the Queen-Empress, written by Her Majesty's own hand, which conveyed in the most gracious terms the Queen's satisfaction at the manner in which the service entrusted to me had been performed, thanks to 'the brave officers and men under my command,' sorrow 'for those of her gallant soldiers who fell for Queen and country,' and anxiety for the wounded. Her Majesty also wrote of 'the thrill of horror' with which the news of the fate of Lieutenant Maclaine had been received, and concluded with words of hope that my own health and that of the troops would remain good, and that success might attend us 'till the blessings of peace are restored.'

A gracious letter, truly! And to me a deeply appreciated reward for what I had been able to do.

I landed at Dover on the 17th November. The reception I met with from my countrymen was as enthusiastic as it was unexpected and gratifying. After an absence of twelve years there must almost always be more or less of sadness mingled with the pleasure of the home-coming, and two vacant places in my family circle—those of my father and sister—cast a deep shadow upon what would otherwise have been a most joyous return, for my mother was alive to welcome me, and I found my children flourishing and my wife well, notwithstanding all the anxiety she had undergone.

I was feted and feasted to almost an alarming extent, considering that for nearly two years I had been restricted to campaigning diet; but it surprised me very much to find that the kind people, by whom I was so greatly honoured, invariably appeared to think the march from Kabul to Kandahar was a much greater performance than the advance on Kabul the previous autumn, while, to my mind, the latter operation was in every particular more difficult, more dangerous, and placed upon me as the Commander infinitely more responsibility. The force with which I started from Kuram to avenge the massacre of our fellow-countrymen was little more than half the strength of that with which I marched to Kandahar. Immediately on crossing the Shutargardan I found myself in the midst of a hostile and warlike people, entirely dependent on the country for supplies, heavily handicapped by want of transport, and practically as completely cut off from communication with India as I was a year later on the march to Kandahar. The Afghans' fanatical hatred of Europeans had been augmented by their defeats the year before, and by the occurrences at Kabul, and they looked upon my small column as a certain prey delivered into their hands by a sympathizing and all-powerful Allah.

Before me was Kabul, with its large and well-equipped arsenal, defended by an army better organized and more highly trained than that possessed by any former Ruler of Afghanistan. On all sides of me were tribesmen hurrying up to defend the approaches to their capital, and had there been on our part the smallest hesitation or delay, we should have found ourselves opposed by as formidable a combination as we had to deal with two months later at Sherpur. Nothing could then have saved the force, not one man of which I firmly believe would have ever returned to tell the tale in India. Worse than all, I had in my own camp a traitor, in the form of the Amir, posing as a friend to the British Government and a refugee seeking our protection, while he was at heart our bitterest enemy, and was doing everything in his power to make my task more difficult and ensure our defeat.

The march to Kandahar was certainly much longer, the country was equally unfriendly, and the feeding of so large a number of men and animals was a continual source of anxiety. But I had a force capable of holding its own against any Afghan army that could possibly be opposed to it, and good and sufficient transport to admit of its being kept together, with the definite object in view of rescuing our besieged countrymen and defeating Ayub Khan; instead of, as at Kabul, having to begin to unravel a difficult political problem after accomplishing the defeat of the tribesmen and the Afghan army.

I could only account to myself for the greater amount of interest displayed in the march to Kandahar, and the larger amount of credit given to me for that undertaking, by the glamour of romance thrown around an army of 10,000 men lost to view, as it were, for nearly a month, about the fate of which uninformed speculation was rife and pessimistic rumours were spread, until the tension became extreme, and the corresponding relief proportionably great when that army reappeared to dispose at once of Ayub and his hitherto victorious troops.

I did not return to India until the end of 1881, six weeks out of these precious months of leave having been spent in a wild-goose chase to the Cape of Good Hope and back, upon my being nominated by Mr. Gladstone's Government Governor of Natal and Commander of the Forces in South Africa, on the death of Sir George Colley and the receipt of the news of the disaster at Majuba Hill. While I was on my way out to take up my command, peace was made with the Boers in the most marvellously rapid and unexpected manner, A peace, alas! 'without honour,' to which may be attributed the recent regrettable state of affairs in the Transvaal—a state of affairs which was foreseen and predicted by many at the time. My stay at Cape Town was limited to twenty-four hours, the Government being apparently as anxious to get me away from Africa as they had been to hurry me out there.

In August I spent three very enjoyable and instructive weeks as the guest of His Imperial Majesty the Emperor of Germany, while the manoeuvres at Hanover and Schleswig-Holstein were taking place.

Shortly before leaving England for Madras, I was asked by Mr. Childers, the then Secretary of State for War, whether I would accept the appointment of Quartermaster-General at the Horse Guards, in succession to Sir Garnet Wolseley. The offer, in some ways, was rather a temptation to me, for I had a great wish to take part in the administration of our army; and had it been made sooner, before my arrangements for going to Madras had been completed, I think I should have accepted it at once; as it was, I begged to be allowed to join my new command, and leave the question of the Quartermaster-Generalship in abeyance until it was about to become vacant. This was agreed to, and I started for Madras, taking my wife and two little daughters with me, the boy being left at school in England.

On arriving in Madras, on the 27th November, I had the pleasure to find myself associated as a colleague in Council with Mr. Grant-Duff,[1] who had recently been appointed Governor of the Presidency. We spent a few pleasant days with him and Mrs. Grant-Duff at Government House, before proceeding to deposit our children at Ootacamund, that Queen of Indian Hill-stations, which was to be our home for four years. We spent Christmas there, and then went to Burma, visiting the Andaman Islands on the way. We had on board our ship some prisoners destined for that convict settlement, amongst whom cholera unfortunately broke out a few hours after we left Madras. They were accommodated just outside my wife's cabin, and their cries and groans were most distressing. Very little could be done for them on board, for the Native Doctor accompanying us possessed no remedy but castor oil! and as the disease was spreading rapidly, I took upon myself to have the party landed at Vizagapatam.

The cholera patients were put into tents on the sea-shore, under the charge of a medical officer, and every arrangement possible for their comfort and relief was made before we proceeded on our journey.

During our stay at Port Blair, the Head-Quarters of the Andaman Administration, we were the guests of the hospitable Superintendent, Lieutenant-Colonel Protheroe, who had been one of the political officers on my staff in Afghanistan. The group of islands forming the settlement are extremely beautiful, but it is tropical beauty, and one pays the penalty for the luxuriant vegetation in the climate, which is very much like a Turkish bath, hot and damp. While going through the prisons, I came across some of the sepoys of the 29th Punjab Infantry who deserted during the advance on the Peiwar Kotal. I was told that they were behaving well, and might in time be allowed some remission of their sentences.

A voyage of thirty-six hours brought us to Rangoon, where we had the pleasure of meeting and being entertained by our old friends, Mr. Bernard,[2] the Chief Commissioner of Burma, and his wife.

In 1882 Thyetmyo and Tonghu were the two frontier stations of Burma, and I had been asked to consider the question of the defence of the proposed railway termini at these places. I accordingly visited them both, and as I thought I foresaw that the lines of railway could not end as then contemplated, I recommended that the absolutely necessary works only should be attempted, and that these should be as inexpensive as possible. Ere many years had passed, the line, as I anticipated, was completed to Mandalay.

The defences of Rangoon had also to be arranged for. An examination of the approaches, however, satisfied me that no elaborate system of fortification was necessary, and that Rangoon's best security lay in her winding, dangerous river; so I gave it as my opinion that, with two small batteries at Monkey Point and King's Point, and a couple of torpedo-boats, Rangoon would be reasonably safe against attack.

Before leaving Burma I received letters from H.R.H. the Duke of Cambridge and Mr. Childers, in which were repeated the offer of the Quartermaster-Generalship at the Horse Guards. But I had by this time begun to like my new work, and had no desire to leave Madras; I therefore definitely declined the appointment.

From Burma we returned to Ootacamund, via Calcutta, where we spent a few days with Lord and Lady Ripon and Sir Donald and Lady Stewart.

Life at 'Ooty' was very pleasant; such peace and repose I had never before experienced; I thoroughly enjoyed the rest after the turmoil of the preceding years, and I quite recovered my health, which had been somewhat shattered. Unlike other hill-stations, Ootacamund rests on an undulating tableland, 7,400 feet above the sea, with plenty of room in the neighbourhood for riding, driving, and hunting; and, although the scenery is nothing like as grand as in the Himalayas, there are exquisite views to be had, and it is more restful and homelike. We made many warm friends and agreeable acquaintances, who when our time in Madras came to an end presented my wife with a very beautiful clock 'as a token of esteem and affection'; we were very sorry to bid farewell to our friends and to our Nilgiri home.

Each cold season I made long tours in order to acquaint myself with the needs and capabilities of the men of the Madras Army. I tried hard to discover in them those fighting qualities which had distinguished their forefathers during the wars of the last and the beginning of the present century. But long years of peace, and the security and prosperity attending it, had evidently had upon them, as they always seem to have on Asiatics, a softening and deteriorating effect; and I was forced to the conclusion that the ancient military spirit had died in them, as it had died in the ordinary Hindustani of Bengal and the Mahratta of Bombay, and that they could no longer with safety be pitted against warlike races, or employed outside the limits of southern India.

It was with extreme reluctance that I formed this opinion with regard to the successors of the old Coast Army, for which I had always entertained a great admiration. For the sake of the British officers belonging to the Madras Army, too, I was very loath to be convinced of its inferiority, for many of them were devoted to their regiments, and were justly proud of their traditions.

However, there was the army, and it was my business as its Commander-in-Chief to do all that I possibly could towards rendering it an efficient part of the war establishment of India.

Madrassies, as a rule, are more intelligent and better educated than the fighting races of northern India, and I therefore thought it could not be difficult to teach them the value of musketry, and make them excel in it. To this end, I encouraged rifle meetings and endeavoured to get General Officers to take an interest in musketry inspections, and to make those inspections instructive and entertaining to the men. I took to rifle-shooting myself, as did the officers on my personal staff,[3] who were all good shots, and our team held its own in many exciting matches at the different rifle meetings.

At that time the importance of musketry training was not so generally recognized as it is now, especially by the senior officers, who had all entered the service in the days of 'Brown Bess.' Some of them had failed to note the remarkable alteration which the change from the musket to the rifle necessitated in the system of musketry instruction, or to study the very different conditions under which we could hope to win battles in the present day, compared with those under which some of our most celebrated victories had been won. It required time and patience to inspire officers with a belief in the wonderful shooting power of the Martini-Henry rifle, and it was even more difficult to make them realize that the better the weapon, the greater the necessity for its being intelligently used.

I had great faith in the value of Camps of Exercise, and notwithstanding the difficulty of obtaining an annual grant to defray their cost, I managed each year, by taking advantage of the movement of troops in course of relief, to form small camps at the more important stations, and on one occasion was able to collect 9,000 men together in the neighbourhood of Bangalore, where the Commanders-in-Chief in India and of Bombay (Sir Donald Stewart and the Hon. Arthur Hardinge) were present—the first and last time that the 'three Chiefs' in India met together at a Camp of Exercise. The Sappers and Miners were a brilliant exception to the rest of the Madras Army, being indeed a most useful, efficient body of men, but as no increase to that branch was considered necessary, I obtained permission to convert two Infantry regiments into Pioneers on the model of the Pioneer Corps of the Bengal Army, which had always proved themselves so useful on service. Promotion amongst the British officers was accelerated, recruits were not allowed to marry, or, if married, to have their wives with them, and many other minor changes were made which did much towards improving the efficiency of the Native portion of the Madras Army; and I hope I was able to increase the comfort and well-being of the British portion also by relaxing irksome and useless restrictions, and by impressing upon commanding officers the advisability of not punishing young soldiers with the extreme severity which had hitherto been considered necessary.

I had been unpleasantly struck by the frequent Courts-Martial on the younger soldiers, and by the disproportionate number of these lads to be met with in the military prisons. Even when the prisoners happened to be of some length of service, I usually found that they had undergone previous imprisonments, and had been severely punished within a short time of their enlistment. I urged that, in the first two or three years of a soldier's service, every allowance should be made for youth and inexperience, and that during that time faults should, whenever practicable, be dealt with summarily, and not visited with the heavier punishment which a Court-Martial sentence necessarily carries with it, and I pointed out that this procedure might receive a wider application, and become a guiding principle in the treatment of soldiers generally. I suggested that all men in possession of a good-conduct badge, or who had had no entry in their company defaulter sheets for one year, should be granted certain privileges, such as receiving the fullest indulgence in the grant of passes, consistent with the requirements of health, duty, and discipline, and being excused attendance at all roll-calls (including meals), except perhaps at tattoo. I had often remarked that those corps in which indulgences were most freely given contained the largest number of well-behaved men, and I had been assured that such indulgences were seldom abused, and that, while they were greatly appreciated by those who received them, they acted as an incentive to less well conducted men to try and redeem their characters.



The reports of commanding officers, on the results of these small ameliorations, after a six months' trial, were so favourable that I was able to authorize still further concessions as a premium on good behaviour.

The Madras Presidency abounds in places of interest connected with our earlier struggles in India, and it was possible to combine pleasure with duty in a very delightful manner while travelling about the country. My wife frequently accompanied me in my tours, and enjoyed as much as I did our visits to many famous and beautiful places. Madras itself recalled the struggles for supremacy between the English and French in the middle of the eighteenth century. Arcot reminded one that it was in the brilliant capture and still more brilliant defence of the fort at that place that Clive's soldierly genius first became conspicuous. Trichinopoly and Wandewash made one think of Stringer Lawrence's and Eyre Coote's splendid services, and while standing on the breach at Seringapatam, one was reminded of Wellington's early life in India, and marvelled how heavily-armed men could have ventured to cross the single plank which alone spanned the deep, broad ditch of the inner defences.

I should like to dwell on the architectural wonders of Tanjore and the Caves of Ellora; the magnificent entertainments and Princely hospitality accorded to us by the Nizam of Hyderabad, the late Maharajas of Mysore and Travancore, the Maharaja of Vizianagram, the Raja of Cochin, and many other Rulers of Native States; the delights of a trip along the west coast by the beautiful 'back-water,' and the return journey through the glorious forests of Cannara and Mysore; the pleasure of visiting the lovely 'White Lady'[4] and the wonderful Kaveri falls; but to give my readers any idea of their marvels would be to put too great a strain upon their patience, which I fear has already been severely taxed.

The late Maharaja of Travancore was an unusually enlightened Native. He spoke and wrote English fluently; his appearance was distinguished, and his manners those of a well-bred, courteous English gentleman of the old school. His speech on proposing the Queen's health was a model of fine feeling and fine expression, and yet this man was steeped in superstition. His Highness sat, slightly retired from the table, between my wife and myself while dinner was going on; he partook of no food or wine, but his close contact with us (he led my wife in to dinner and took her out on his arm) necessitated his undergoing a severe course of purification at the hands of the Brahmins as soon as the entertainment was over; he dared not do anything without the sanction of the priests, and he spent enormous sums in propitiating them.

Notwithstanding the high civilization, luxury, and refinement to be found in these Native States, my visits to them strengthened my opinion that, however capable and enlightened the Ruler, he could have no chance of holding his country if deprived of the guiding hand of the British Government as embodied in the Resident. It is just that control, so light in ordinary times as to be hardly perceptible, but firm enough when occasion demands, which saves the State from being rent by factions and internal intrigue, or swallowed up by a more powerful neighbour, for, owing to the influence of the Brahmins and the practical seclusion which caste prejudices entail, involving ignorance of what is taking place immediately outside their own palaces, the Native Princes of the less warlike peoples would have no chance amidst the anarchy and confusion that would follow the withdrawal of British influence.

A remark made to me by the late Sir Madhava Rao, ex-Minister of the Baroda State, which exemplifies my meaning, comes back to me at this moment. Sir Madhava was one of the most astute Hindu gentlemen in India, and when discussing with him the excitement produced by the 'Ilbert Bill,' he said: 'Why do you English raise these unnecessary questions? It is your doing, not ours. We have heard of the cry, "India for the Indians," which some of your philanthropists have raised in England; but you have only to go to the Zoological Gardens and open the doors of the cages, and you will very soon see what would be the result of putting that theory into practice. There would be a terrific fight amongst the animals, which would end in the tiger walking proudly over the dead bodies of the rest.' 'Whom,' I inquired, 'do you consider to be the tiger?' 'The Mahomedan from the North,' was his reply.



[Footnote 1: Now Sir Mount-Stuart Grant-Duff, G.C.S.I.]

[Footnote 2: Now Sir Charles Bernard, K.C.S.I.]

[Footnote 3: Lieutenant-Colonel G.T. Pretyman, R.A., was Assistant Military Secretary until 1884, when he was succeeded by Lieutenant-Colonel R. Pole-Carew, Coldstream Guards. Lieutenant Neville Chamberlain, Central India Horse, and Captain Ian Hamilton, the Gordon Highlanders, were Aides-de-camp.]

[Footnote 4: The finest of the Gassapa falls.]

* * * * *



CHAPTER LXIV. 1885

Disturbing action of Russia—Abdur Rahman Khan—The Rawal Pindi Durbar —Unmistakable loyalty of the Natives

In March, 1885, we again visited Calcutta. The Marquis of Ripon had departed, and the Earl of Dufferin reigned in his stead.

Affairs on our north-west and south-east frontiers were at this time in a very unsettled state. Indeed, the political outlook altogether had assumed rather a gloomy aspect. Our relations with the French had become somewhat strained in consequence of their interference with Upper Burma and our occupation of Egypt; while Russia's activity in the valley of the Oxus necessitated our looking after our interests in Afghanistan. These considerations rendered it advisable to increase the army in India by 11,000 British and 12,000 Native troops, bringing the strength of the former up to nearly 70,000, with 414 guns, and that of the latter to 128,636.

Russia's movements could not be regarded with indifference, for, while we had retreated from our dominating position at Kandahar, she had approached considerably nearer to Afghanistan, and in a direction infinitely more advantageous than before for a further onward move. Up to 1881 a Russian army advancing on Afghanistan would have had to solve the difficult problem of the formidable Hindu Kush barrier, or if it took the Herat line it must have faced the deserts of Khiva and Bokhara. But all this was changed by Skobeloff's victories over the Tekke Turkomans, which gave Merv and Sarakhs to Russia, and enabled her to transfer her base from Orenburg to the Caspian—by far the most important step ever made by Russia in her advance towards India. I had some years before pointed out to the Government of India how immeasurably Russia would gain, if by the conquest of Merv—a conquest which I then looked upon as certain to be accomplished in the near future—she should be able to make this transfer. My words were unheeded or ridiculed at the time, and I, like others who thought as I did, was supposed to be suffering from a disease diagnosed by a distinguished politician as 'Mervousness.' But a little later those words were verified. Merv had become a Russian possession, and Turkestan was in direct communication by rail and steamer with St. Petersburg. And can it be denied that this fact, which would have enabled the army in the Caucasus to be rapidly transported to the scene of operations, made it possible for General Komaroff practically to dictate terms to the Boundary Commission which was sent to define the northern limits of Afghanistan, and to forcibly eject an Afghan garrison from Panjdeh under the eyes of British officers?

Lord Dufferin took up the reins of the Government of India at a time when things had come to such a pass that a personal conference with the Amir was considered necessary to arrange for the defence and demarcation of His Highness's frontier, the strengthening of Herat, the extension of the Sakkur-Sibi railway to Quetta, and the discussion of the general situation. Abdur Rahman was therefore invited to meet the Viceroy at Rawal Pindi, where a large standing camp was prepared, and my wife and I were bidden amongst a numerous company, including Their Royal Highnesses the Duke and Duchess of Connaught, the Ruling Punjab Chiefs, and the high officers of Government from various parts of India, to be the guests of His Excellency and Lady Dufferin on the interesting occasion.

The meeting was fixed for the end of March, and as there was scarcely time for us to return to Madras and get back again before then, we proceeded leisurely up country, visiting different places and one or two old friends on the way.

At Multan I received a cipher telegram from Sir Donald Stewart informing me that it had been decided to mobilize two Army Corps, and that I was to have command of the first. This was exciting news, and we lost no time in making our way to Rawal Pindi, where we should be in direct communication with Head-Quarters, and hoped to hear what had taken place since we left Calcutta to make it necessary to prepare for war.

I soon found out that this action on the part of the Government was forced on them by the representatives of Russia on the Boundary Commission, who were persistent in their attempts to encroach on Afghan territory, in order that they might be in a position to control the approaches to Herat, a Russian occupation of which fortress we could not permit.

Abdur Rahman arrived at Rawal Pindi on the last day of March; he was about forty-five years of age, and although he required a stick to walk with, being a martyr to rheumatism, and very stout, his appearance was decidedly dignified and imposing. He had a manly, clever, and rather handsome face, marred only by the cruel expression of the mouth, and his manner was sufficiently courteous though somewhat abrupt.

Several semi-private meetings took place between the Viceroy and the Amir, at the first of which His Highness, after expressing his appreciation of the flattering and cordial reception he had met with, reminded Lord Dufferin that he had consistently warned the British Government of the approach of the Russians towards Afghanistan and of the unsettling effect their advance was producing on the minds of his countrymen; and he advocated the necessity for timely action. No attention, he said, had been paid to his warnings, owing, probably, to the strife of parties in England, and to the excessive caution of the British Government.

Lord Dufferin, in reply, pointed out that the Amir had been advised to strengthen northern Afghanistan, and that the services of Engineer officers had been offered to him for the purpose of putting Herat into a satisfactory state of defence. His Excellency declared that England was resolved that a Russian advance on Herat should be met by a declaration of war; that preparations were then being made to give effect to that resolve; and that it was now absolutely necessary for His Highness to make up his mind which of his two powerful neighbours he would elect to choose as his ally.



Abdur Rahman thanked the Viceroy for his offer of help, but showed plainly that he had no intention of availing himself of the services of our Engineers. He vowed that his own personal wishes were entirely in favour of a close and practical alliance with the British, but that his subjects did not share his feelings towards us. They were 'rude, uneducated, and suspicious.' He hoped that in time they might become more disposed to be friendly, but at present he could not pretend to rely upon them. He then disclosed the real reason for his ready response to the Viceroy's invitation by saying that he would gratefully receive the assistance of the British Government in the shape of money, arms, and munitions of war.

At a later visit the conversation turned upon the difficulty of the position in which the British members of the Boundary Commission were placed, and the impossibility of the Afghan posts being able to hold their own in the face of a Russian advance was explained to the Amir. A map was produced, on which the country to the north of Herat was carefully examined, and Russia's claims were made known to him. Abdur Rahman's ideas of topography were not very accurate, but he displayed considerable intelligence in his questions and perception of the meaning of the answers, and eventually expressed his willingness to leave the question of the delimitation of his northern frontier in the hands of the British Government.

On the 6th April there was a parade of the troops, 17,000 in number, and that evening the Amir was present at a state banquet, at which, after the usual loyal toasts, the Viceroy proposed the Amir's health. His Highness, in reply, expressed a fervent hope that the prosperity of the British Empire might long endure, as with it the welfare of Afghanistan was bound up. He had watched, he said, the progress of India under British rule, and he hoped that Afghanistan might flourish in like manner; and he ended with a prayer that the Almighty would preserve Her Majesty's troops in safety, honour, and efficiency.

Two days later the Amir was publicly received in durbar by the Viceroy, on whose right hand he was placed, while the Duke of Connaught occupied the seat on his left. After a few words had been exchanged, Abdur Rahman rose, and spoke as follows: 'I am deeply sensible of the kindness which I have received from His Excellency the Viceroy, and of the favour shown me by Her Majesty the Queen-Empress. In return for this kindness and favour, I am ready with my army and people to render any services that may be required of me or of the Afghan nation. As the British Government has declared that it will assist me in repelling any foreign enemy, so it is right and proper that Afghanistan should unite in the firmest manner, and side by side by the British Government.'

On being presented, amongst other gifts, with a sword of honour, he said in a loud and determined voice: 'With this sword I hope to smite any enemy of the British Government.'

That same evening the Viceroy received news of the Russian attack on Panjdeh, and communicated it to the Amir, who heard it with extraordinary equanimity, not appearing to attach any great importance to the matter, and attributing the defeat of his troops to the inferiority of their weapons. He observed that the excuse given by the Russians, that the Afghans intended to attack them, was a frivolous pretext, and declared all that his men had done was very properly to make preparations to defend themselves.

Abdur Rahman had expressed a desire for a British decoration, so shortly before his departure from India he was invested, informally, with the G.C.S.I. As the train was moving off, he said to the British officers assembled on the platform: 'I wish you all farewell, and commend you to the care of God. May your Government endure and your honour increase. I have been greatly pleased and gratified by the sight of the British Army. I hope and am certain that the friendship now existing between us will last for ever.'

Abdur Rahman had, indeed, every reason to be satisfied with the result of his visit, for not only was Lord Ripon's promise that England would defend his kingdom against foreign aggression ratified by Lord Dufferin, but the Amir was given, in addition to the large sums of money and the considerable amount of munitions of war already received by him, ten lakhs of rupees, 20,000 breech-loading rifles, a Heavy battery of four guns and two howitzers, a Mountain battery, and a liberal supply of ammunition for both guns and rifles.

On the Amir's departure the great camp was broken up, and the troops returned to their respective stations, all prepared to move towards the Quetta frontier at a moment's notice. The Native Chiefs, in taking their leave of the Viceroy, were profuse in their offers and promises of help should a recourse to arms be found necessary; and Lord and Lady Dufferin's numerous guests, who, like my wife and myself, had for more than a fortnight been recipients of the most profuse hospitality, wished their generous host and hostess a hearty good-bye.

Interesting as the whole proceeding had been, by far the most gratifying result of the gathering was the unmistakable loyalty displayed by the Native Rulers who were present, as well as by those in distant parts of India, on hearing of the unprovoked attack made by the Russians on the Afghan troops at Panjdeh, and our consequent preparations for war. The greatest enthusiasm prevailed, and the various military camps at Rawal Pindi were crowded with men desirous of joining the ranks of our army. I was literally besieged by old soldiers, begging that they might be allowed to return to the colours and fight once more for the Sirkar; and one Native officer, who had been with me in Afghanistan, came to me and said: 'I am afraid, sahib, I am too old and infirm to do more work myself; but you must take my two sons with you—they are ready to die for the Angrese.'[1]



We hastened back to Madras, and reached Ootacamund after seven consecutive nights in the train, with a thermometer at 104 deg. in the daytime, the only pause in our journey being at Poona, where we spent a few hours with our friend General Sir John Ross.

I left my horses at Lahore, and for some weeks lived in daily expectation of being ordered back to the Punjab to take command of the 1st Army Corps. A change of Government, however, took place just in time to prevent the war. Lord Salisbury's determined attitude convinced Russia that no further encroachments on the Afghan frontier would be permitted; she ceased the 'game of brag' she had been allowed to play, and the Boundary Commission were enabled to proceed with the work of delimitation.

[Footnote 1: A Native corruption of the word 'English.']

* * * * *



CHAPTER LXV. 1885-1886

The Burma expedition—The Camp of Exercise at Delhi —Defence of the North-West Frontier—Quetta and Peshawar —Communications versus fortifications—Sir George Chesney

We only remained three months at 'Ooty,' for on the 8th July a telegram arrived from Lord Dufferin announcing the Queen's approval of my being appointed to succeed Sir Donald Stewart as Commander-in-Chief in India, and granting me leave to visit England before taking up the appointment.

At the end of a fortnight all our preparations for departure had been made, and on the 18th August we left Bombay, in the teeth of the monsoon.

Our boy, whose holidays had just commenced, met us at Venice, and we loitered in Italy and Switzerland on our way home. I spent but six weeks in England, returning to the East at the end of November, to join my new command. I met Lord Dufferin at Agra, and accompanied him to Gwalior, whither his Excellency went for the purpose of formally restoring to the Maharaja Sindhia the much coveted fortress of Gwalior, which had been occupied by us since 1858—an act of sound policy, enabling us to withdraw a brigade which could be far more usefully employed elsewhere.

At Gwalior we received the news of the capture of Mandalay, and I sent a telegram to Lieutenant-General Prendergast,[1] to congratulate him on the successful conduct of the Burma Expedition.

Affairs in Burma had been going from bad to worse from the time King Thebaw came to the throne in 1878. Wholesale murders were of constant occurrence within the precincts of the palace; dacoity was rife throughout the country, and British officers were insulted to such an extent that the Resident had to be withdrawn. In 1883 a special Mission was sent by the King of Burma to Paris, with a view to making such a treaty with the French Government as would enable him to appeal to France for assistance, in the event of his being involved in difficulties with England. The Mission remained eighteen months in Paris, and succeeded in ratifying what the French called a 'Commercial Convention,' under the terms of which a French Consul was located at Mandalay, who soon gained sufficient ascendancy over King Thebaw to enable him to arrange for the construction of a railway between Mandalay and Tonghu, and the establishment of a French bank at Mandalay, by means of which France would speedily have gained full control over the principal sources of Burmese revenue, and power to exclude British trade from the valley of the Irrawaddy. In furtherance of these designs, the King picked a quarrel with a British trading company, threatened to cancel their leases for cutting timber, and demanded a fine of ten lakhs of rupees.

The Chief Commissioner proposed arbitration, but this was declined, and the King refusing to modify his action with regard to the trading company, the Viceroy proposed to the Secretary of State for India that an ultimatum[2] should be sent to King Thebaw.

In approving of the ultimatum, Lord Randolph Churchill expressed his opinion that its despatch should be concurrent with the movement of troops and ships to Rangoon, that an answer should be demanded within a specified time, and that if the ultimatum were rejected, an immediate advance on Mandalay should be made.

A force[3] of nearly 10,000 men and 77 guns, under the command of Lieutenant-General Prendergast, was accordingly ordered to be in readiness at Thyetmyo by the 14th November, and as the reply of the Burmese Government was tantamount to a refusal, Prendergast was instructed to advance on Mandalay, with the result which it was my pleasant duty to congratulate him upon in my capacity of Commander-in-Chief of the Army in India.

From Gwalior I went to Delhi to prepare for a Camp of Exercise on a much larger scale than had ever before been held. Many weak points in the Commissariat and Transport Department having become only too apparent when the mobilization of the two Army Corps had been imminent the previous spring, it was considered necessary to test our readiness for war, and orders for the strength and composition of the force to be manoeuvred had been issued before Sir Donald Stewart left India.

The troops were divided into two Army Corps. The northern assembled at Umballa, and the southern at Gurgaon, 25 miles from Delhi, the points of concentration being 150 miles apart.

After a fortnight passed in brigade and divisional movements, the opposing forces advanced, and on the 7th January they came into contact on the historic battlefield of Panipat.[4]

Lord Dufferin, whose interest in the efficiency of the army induced him to come all the way from Calcutta to witness the last two days' manoeuvres, was present—with the twelve 'foreign officers'[5] from the principal armies of Europe and America, who had been invited to attend the camp—at a march-past of the whole force of 35,000 men on the 18th. It was a fine sight, though marred by a heavy thunderstorm and a perfect deluge of rain, and was really a greater test of what the troops could do than if we had had the perfect weather we had hoped for. The 'foreign officers' were, apparently, somewhat surprised at the fine physique and efficiency of our Native soldiers, but they all remarked on the paucity of British officers with the Indian regiments, which I could not but acknowledge was, as it still is, a weak point in our military organization.

When the camp was broken up, I accompanied the Viceroy to Burma, where we arrived early in February, 1886. Lord Dufferin must, I think, have been pleased at the reception he met with at Rangoon. The people generally tried in every possible way to show their gratitude to the Viceroy, under whose auspices the annexation of Upper Burma had been carried out, and each nationality had erected a triumphal arch in its own particular quarter of the town.

From Rangoon we went to Mandalay, where Lord Dufferin formally announced the annexation by England of all that part of Upper Burma over which King Thebaw had held sway. We then proceeded to Madras, where I parted from the Viceregal party and travelled to Bombay to meet my wife. Leaving her at Simla to arrange our house, which had been considerably altered and added to, I proceeded to the North-West Frontier, for the question of its defence was one which interested me very deeply, and I hoped that, from the position I now held as a member of the Government of India, I should be able to get my ideas on this, to India, all-important subject listened to, if not altogether carried out.

The defence of the frontier had been considered under the orders of my predecessor by a Committee, the members of which had recorded their several opinions as to the means which should be adopted to make India secure. But Sir Donald Stewart relinquished his command before anything could be done to give effect to the measures they advised.

The matter had therefore to be taken up afresh by me, and I carefully studied the recommendations of the 'Defence Committee' before visiting the frontier to refresh my memory by personal inspection as to the points to be defended.

It seemed to me that none of the members, with the exception of Sir Charles Macgregor and the secretary, Major W.G. Nicholson, at all appreciated the great change which had taken place in our position since the near approach of Russia, and our consequent promise to the Amir to preserve the integrity of his kingdom, had widened the limit of our responsibilities from the southern to the northern boundary of Afghanistan.

Less than a year before we had been on the point of declaring war with Russia because of her active interference with 'the authority of a sovereign—our protected ally—who had committed no offence[6];' and even now it was not certain that peace could be preserved, by reason of the outrageous demands made by the Russian members of the Boundary Commission as to the direction which the line of delimitation between Russian and Afghan territory should take.

It was this widening of our responsibilities which prevented me from agreeing with the recommendations of the Defence Committee, for the majority of the members laid greater stress on the necessity for constructing numerous fortifications, than upon lines of communication, which I conceived to be of infinitely greater importance, as affording the means of bringing all the strategical points on the frontier into direct communication with the railway system of India, and enabling us to mass our troops rapidly, should we be called upon to aid Afghanistan in repelling attack from a foreign Power.

Fortifications, of the nature of entrenched positions, were no doubt, to some extent, necessary, not to guard against our immediate neighbours, for experience had taught us that without outside assistance they are incapable of a combined movement, but for the protection of such depots and storehouses as would have to be constructed, and as a support to the army in the field.

The line chosen at that time for an advance was by Quetta and Kandahar. In the first instance, therefore, I wended my way to Baluchistan, where I met and consulted with the Governor-General's Agent, Sir Robert Sandeman, and the Chief Engineer of the Sind-Pishin Railway, Brigadier-General Browne.[7]

We together inspected the Kwaja-Amran range, through which the Kohjak tunnel now runs, and I decided that the best position for an entrenched camp was to the rear of that range, in the space between the Takatu and Mashalik mountains. This open ground was less than four miles broad; nature had made its flanks perfectly secure, and in front was a network of ravines capable of being made quite impassable by simply flooding them. It was unfortunate that the railway had been marked out in front instead of in rear of the Takatu range, and that its construction was too far advanced before the question of defence came to be considered to admit of its being altered, otherwise this position would have been a complete protection for the line of rail also.

Having come to a definite conclusion as to the measures to be taken for meeting the offensive and defensive requirements of Quetta and the Bolan Pass, I turned my attention to Peshawar and the Khyber Pass, which were infinitely more difficult to deal with, because of the political considerations involved.

Over the whole of Baluchistan we had entire control, so that in the event of an army moving in that direction we could depend upon the resources of the country being at our disposal, and the people remaining, at least, neutral. But on the Peshawar side the circumstances were altogether different: the tribes were hostile to a degree, and no European's life was safe across the frontier. Except in the Khyber itself (where the policy of establishing friendly relations with the Afridis, and utilizing them to keep open the pass, had been most successfully practised by the political officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Warburton), we could not depend on the tribesmen remaining passive, much less helping us if we advanced into Afghanistan. While, should an army attempt to invade India from that direction, we should to a certainty have every man of the 200,000 warlike people who inhabit the mountainous district from Chitral to Baluchistan combining against us, and pouring into India from every outlet.

For these reasons I recorded a strong opinion in opposition to the proposals of the Defence Committee, which were in favour of the construction of a large magazine at Peshawar and extensive entrenched works at the mouth of the Khyber. I pointed out the extreme danger of a position communication with which could be cut off, and which could be more or less easily turned, for it was clear to me that until we had succeeded in inducing the border tribes to be on friendly terms with us, and to believe that their interests were identical with ours, the Peshawar valley would become untenable should any general disturbance take place; and that, instead of entrenchments close to the Khyber Pass, we required a position upon which the garrisons of Peshawar and Nowshera could fall back and await the arrival of reinforcements.

For this position I selected a spot on the right bank of the Kabul river, between Khairabad and the Indus; it commanded the passage of the latter river, and could easily be strengthened by defensive works outside the old fort of Attock.

It will be readily understood by those of my readers who have any knowledge of our North-West Frontier, or are interested in the question of the defence of India, that other routes exist between the Bolan and the Khyber Passes which might be made use of either by an army invading India, or by a force sent from India to the assistance of Afghanistan; and by such it will probably be asked, as was the case when my recommendations were being discussed, why I did not advise these lines to be similarly guarded. My reply was, and is, that there are no arsenals or depots near these passes to be protected, as at Quetta and Rawul Pindi; that we should not be likely to use them for an army moving into Afghanistan; that, although small parties of the enemy might come by them, the main body of a force operating towards India is bound to advance by the Khyber, for the reason that it would debouch directly on highly cultivated country and good roads leading to all the great cities of the Punjab; and finally that, even if our finances would admit of the construction of such a long line of forts, it would be impossible for our limited army to supply the garrisons for them.

Having completed my inspection of the frontier, I returned to Simla and drew up a memorandum declaring the conviction I had arrived at after careful deliberation, that the improvement of our communications was of far greater importance than the immediate construction of forts and entrenchments, and that, while I would not spare money in strengthening well-defined positions, the strategical value of which was unmistakable, I would not trouble about those places the primary importance of fortifying which was open to argument, and which might never be required to be defended; these, I contended, might be left alone, except so far as to make a careful study of their localities and determine how they could best be taken advantage of should occasion require. My note ended with the following words: 'Meanwhile I would push on our communications with all possible speed; we must have roads, and we must have railways; they cannot be made on short notice, and every rupee spent upon them now will repay us tenfold hereafter. Nothing will tend to secure the safety of the frontier so much as the power of rapidly concentrating troops on any threatened point, and nothing will strengthen our military position more than to open out the country and improve our relations with the frontier tribes. There are no better civilizers than roads and railways; and although some of those recommended to be made may never be required for military purposes, they will be of the greatest assistance to the civil power in the administration of the country.'

Accompanying this paper was a statement of the defensive works which, in my opinion, should be taken in hand without delay; also of the positions which required careful study, and the roads and railways which should be constructed, to make the scheme of defence complete.

Seven years later, when I gave up my command of the Army in India, I had the supreme satisfaction of knowing that I left our North-West Frontier secure, so far as it was possible to make it so, hampered as we were by want of money. The necessary fortifications had been completed, schemes for the defence of the various less important positions had been prepared, and the roads and railways, in my estimation of such vast importance, had either been finished or were well advanced.

Moreover, our position with regard to the border tribes had gradually come to be better understood, and it had been realized that they would be a powerful support to whichever side might be able to count upon their aid; the policy of keeping them at arm's length had been abandoned, and the advantages of reciprocal communication were becoming more appreciated by them and by us.

It was not to be expected that these results could be achieved without a considerable amount of opposition, owing partly to the majority of our countrymen (even amongst those who had spent the greater part of their lives in India) failing to recognize the change that had taken place in the relative positions of Great Britain and Russia in Asia, and to their disbelief in the steady advance of Russia towards Afghanistan being in any way connected with India, or in Russia's wish or power to threaten our Eastern Empire.[8] The idea was very common, too, amongst people who had not deeply considered the subject, that all proposals for gaining control over our troublesome neighbours on the border, or for facilitating the massing of troops, meant an aggressive policy, and were made with the idea of annexing more territory, instead of for the purpose of securing the safety of India, and enabling us to fulfil our engagements.

Happily, the Viceroys who governed India while I was Commander-in-Chief were not amongst those who held these opinions; and while they had no expectation of India being invaded in the near future, they realized that we could not unconcernedly look on while a great Power was, step by step, creeping closer to our possessions. It was a fortunate circumstance, too, that, for the first five years I was at the head of the Army in India, I had as my military colleague in Council the late General Sir George Chesney, a man of unquestionable talent and sound judgment, to whose cordial support, not only in frontier affairs, but in all my efforts to promote the efficiency and welfare of the soldier, I was very greatly indebted.

[Footnote 1: Now General Sir Harry Prendergast, V.C., K.C.B.]

[Footnote 2: The ultimatum informed King Thebaw that the British Government insisted upon an Envoy being received at Mandalay, with free access to the King, without having to submit to any humiliating ceremony; that proceedings against the trading company would not be permitted; that a British Agent, with a suitable guard of honour and steamer for his personal protection, must be permanently stationed at the Burmese capital; that the Burmese Government must regulate their external relations in accordance with British advice; and that proper facilities must be granted for the opening up of British trade with China via Bhamo.]

[Footnote 3: The force consisted of 364 seamen and 69 Marines formed into a Naval Brigade, with 49 guns, including 27 machine guns, and 3,029 British and 6,005 Native soldiers, with 28 guns.]

[Footnote 4: Panipat is famous for three great battles fought in its immediate neighbourhood: one in 1526, by the Emperor Baber against Sultan Ibrahim, which resulted in the establishment of the Mogul dynasty; the second in 1556, when the Emperor Akbar beat the Hindu General of the Afghan usurper, and re-established the Moguls in power; and the third in 1761, when Ahmed Shah Durani defeated the Mahrattas.]

[Footnote 5: I was much gratified at receiving subsequently from His Imperial Majesty the Emperor William I. and from the Crown Princess of Prussia autograph letters of acknowledgment of, and thanks for, the reception accorded and the attention paid to Majors von Huene and von Hagenau, the two representatives of the German army who attended these manoeuvres.]

[Footnote 6: Words used by Mr. Gladstone when asking for a vote of credit for L6,500,000 for special preparations in connection with the Afghan difficulty.]

[Footnote 7: The late Major-General Sir James Browne, K.C.S.I., C.B., who, like Sir Robert Sandeman, died while holding the important and responsible position of Governor-General's Agent in Baluchistan.]

[Footnote 8: A Statesman of high reputation in England was so strong in his disbelief of the necessity for making any preparations in India, that he publicly stated that if the only barrier between Russia in Asia and Britain in Asia were a mountain ridge, or a stream, or a fence, there would be no difficulty in preserving peace between Russia and the United Kingdom.—Speech delivered by the Right Hon. John Bright, M.P., at Birmingham on the 16th April, 1879.]

* * * * *



CHAPTER LXVI. 1886

Nursing for the soldier—Pacification of Burma considered —Measures recommended—The Buddhist priesthood —The Regimental Institute—The Army Temperance Association

Many interesting and important questions had to be dealt with during this my first year as a member of the Viceroy's Council, and it was pleasant to me to be able to bring before the Government of India a scheme which my wife had had very much at heart for many years—for supplying skilled nursing to the military hospitals in India. That our sick soldiers (officers and men) should be entirely dependent for nursing, even in times of the most dangerous illness, on the tender mercies of 'the orderly on duty,' who, whether kind-hearted or the reverse, was necessarily utterly untrained and ignorant of the requirements of sickness, was a source of unhappiness to her, and had been felt as a cruel want by many; but whenever she had discussed the subject with those who might have helped her, she was told that proposals for supplying this want had already been made, that the Government could not, nor would they ever be able to, act on such proposals, on account of the prohibitory expense, so she felt there was no use in making any appeal until I might be in a position to see that any suggestions made by her would be certain to receive the careful consideration of Government. This time had now arrived, and almost directly Lady Roberts returned to India in 1886 she drew up a scheme for supplying lady nurses to the military hospitals throughout India, and set to work to try and get the support of some of the principal Medical officers. To her great joy, her recommendations were accepted by Lord Dufferin and his Council, and her note upon the subject was sent home to the Secretary of State, strongly backed up by the Government of India. Lord Cross happily viewed the matter in a favourable light, and consented, not only to a certain number of nurses being sent out the following year as an experiment, but to the whole of the cost of the movement being borne by the State, with the exception of the provision of 'Homes in the Hills' for the nursing sisters as health resorts, and to prevent the expense to Government of their having to be sent home on sick-leave when worn out by their trying work in the plains. The Secretary of State, however, declared these Homes to be 'an important part' of the nursing scheme, 'and indispensable to its practical working,' but considered that they should be provided by private subscription, a condition my wife undertook to carry out. She appealed to the Army in India to help her, and with scarcely an exception every regiment and battery generously responded—even the private soldiers subscribed largely in proportion to their small means—so that by the beginning of the following year my wife was able to set about purchasing and building suitable houses.



'Homes' were established at Murree, Kasauli and Quetta, in Bengal, and at Wellington[1] in Madras, and by making a further appeal to the officers of the army, and with the assistance of kind and liberal friends in England and India, and the proceeds of various entertainments, Lady Roberts was able to supply, in connexion with the 'Homes' at Murree and Kasauli, wards for the reception of sick officers, with a staff of nurses[2] in attendance, whose salaries, passages, etc., are all paid out of 'Lady Roberts's Fund.' My wife was induced to do this from having known many young officers succumb owing to want of care and improper food at hotels or clubs on being sent to the Hills after a hard fight for life in the plains, if they were not fortunate enough to have personal friends to look after them. Although it is anticipating events, I may as well say here that the nursing experiment proved a complete success, and now every large military hospital in India has its staff of nurses, and there are altogether 4 superintendents, 9 deputy superintendents, and 39 nursing sisters, in India. There are many more wanted in the smaller stations, where there is often great loss of life from lack of proper nursing, and surely, as my wife pointed out in her first appeal, 'when one considers what an expensive article the British soldier is, costing, as he does, L100 before landing in India, it seems certain that on the score of economy alone, altogether setting aside the humane aspect of the question, it is well worth the State's while to provide him with the skilled nursing care' which has up to now saved so many lives.

That officers as well as men might benefit by the devotion of the 'nursing sister,' I was able to arrange in all the large hospitals for some room, or rooms, used until then for other purposes, to be appropriated for an officers' ward or wards, and these have proved a great boon to the younger officers whose income does not admit of their obtaining the expensive care of a nurse from one of the large civil hospitals in the Presidency towns.

The next most interesting question, and also the most pressing, which had to be considered by the Viceroy's Council during the summer of 1886, was the pacification of Upper Burma. People in England had expressed surprise at this being so long delayed. It is extremely easy, however, to sit at home and talk of what should be done, but very difficult to say how to do it, and more difficult still to carry it out. To establish law and order in a country nearly as large as France, in which dacoity is looked upon as an honourable profession, would be no light task even in Europe: but when the country to be settled has a deadly climate for several months in the year, is covered to a great extent with jungle, and is without a vestige of a road, the task assumes gigantic proportions. In Upper Burma the garrison was only sufficient to keep open communication along the line of the Irrawaddy, and, to add to the embarrassment of the situation, disaffection had spread to Lower Burma, and disturbances had broken out in the almost unknown district between Upper Burma and Assam.

It was arranged to send strong reinforcements to Burma so soon as the unhealthy season should be over and it would be safe for the troops to go there, and Lieutenant-General Sir Herbert Macpherson (who had succeeded me as Commander-in-Chief in Madras) was directed to proceed thither.

In October my wife and I, with some of my staff, started from Simla on a trip across the Hills, with the object of inspecting the stations of Dhurmsala and Dalhousie before it was cool enough to begin my winter tour in the plains. We crossed the Jalaurie Pass, between 11,000 and 12,000 feet high, and travelling through the beautiful Kulu valley and over the Bubbu mountain, we finally arrived at Palampur, the centre of the tea industry in the Kangra valley. Having been cut off from telegraphic communication for some time, we went straight to the telegraph-office for news, and found at the moment a message being deciphered which brought me the terribly sad information that General Macpherson had died of fever in Burma. In him the country had lost a good soldier, and I a friend and comrade for whom I had a great regard and admiration. We were discussing his untimely end, and I was considering who should replace him, when a second message arrived. This was from Lord Dufferin, telling me that he wished me to transfer my Head-Quarters to Burma, and arrange to remain there until 'the neck of the business was broken.'