eastward from the Balla Hissar (the palace and citadel of Cabul), to
dominate which a regiment was detached; and a cavalry regiment occupied
the Sherpur cantonment, the great magazine of which had been blown up,
and whence the regiments which had been quartered in the cantonment had
fled.
It was a melancholy visit which Sir Frederick Roberts made to the Balla
Hissar on the 11th. Through the dirt and squalor of the lower portion,
he ascended the narrow lane leading to the ruin which a few weeks
earlier had been the British Residency. The commander of the avenging
army looked with sorrowful eyes on the scene of heroism and slaughter,
on the smoke-blackened ruins, the blood-splashes on the white-washed
walls, the still smouldering _débris_, the half-burned skulls and
bones in the blood-dabbled chamber where apparently the final struggle
had been fought out. He stood in the breach in the quarters of the
staunch and faithful Guides, where the gate had been blown in after the
last of the sorties made by the gallant Hamilton, and lingered in the
tattered wreck of poor Cavagnari’s drawing-room, its walls dinted with
bullet-pits, its floor and divans brutally defiled. Next day, under the
flagstaff from which waved the banner of Britain, he held a durbar in
the audience chamber of the palace--in front and in flank of him the
pushing throng of obsequious sirdars, arrayed in all the colours of
the rainbow; behind them, standing immobile at attention, the guard of
British infantry, with fixed bayonets which the soldiers longed to use.
Promptitude of advance on the part of the force to which had been
assigned the supporting line of invasion by the Khyber-Jellalabad route
was of scarcely less moment than the rapidity of the stroke which
Roberts was commissioned to deliver. But delay on delay marked the
mobilisation and advance of the troops operating by the Khyber line.
There was no lack of earnestness anywhere, but the barren hills and
rugged passes could furnish no supplies; the country in rear had to
furnish everything, and there was nothing at the base of operations,
neither any accumulation of supplies nor means to transport supplies if
they had been accumulated. Communications were opened from Cabul with
the Khyber force and India, it was true, but no reinforcement came to
Roberts from that force until the 11th December, when there arrived the
Guides, 900 strong, brought up by Jenkins from Jugdulluck by forced
marches. Five weeks earlier, when the Kurum line of communication was
closed for the winter, Roberts had received the welcome accession of a
wing of the 9th Lancers, Money’s Sikh regiment, and four mountain guns:
his strength was thus increased to about 7,000 men.
For some weeks after Roberts’ arrival at Cabul, almost perfect quiet
prevailed in and around the Afghan capital, but the chief was well
aware how precarious and deceitful was the calm. When the impending
announcement of Yakoub Khan’s dethronement and deportation should be
made, Roberts knew the Afghan nature too well to doubt that the tribal
blood-feuds would be soldered for the time, that Dooranee and Baraksai
would strike hands, that Afghan regulars and Afghan irregulars would
rally under the same standards, and that the fierce shouts of “Deen!
deen!” would resound on hill-top and in plain. He was ready for the
strife, and would not hesitate to strike quick and hard, for Roberts
knew the value of a resolute and vigorous offensive in dealing with
Afghans. But it behoved him, above all things, to make timely choice
of his winter-quarters where he should collect his supplies and house
his troops and their followers. After careful deliberation the Sherpur
cantonment, a mile outside of Cabul, was selected. It was overlarge for
easy defence, but hard work, skilled engineering, and steadfast courage
would remedy that evil. And Sherpur had a great advantage in that,
besides being in a measure a ready-made defensive position, it had
shelter for all the troops and would accommodate also the horses of the
cavalry, the transport animals, and all the needful supplies and stores.
[Illustration: THE BRITISH RESIDENCY AFTER THE ATTACK.]
The deportation to India of Yakoub Khan and his three principal
ministers was the signal for a general rising. The Peter the Hermit
of Afghanistan in 1879 was the old Mushk-i-Alum, the fanatic chief
moulla (or priest) of Ghuznee, who went to and fro among the tribes
proclaiming the sacred duty of a religious war against the unbelieving
invaders. The combination of fighting tribes found a competent leader
in Mahomed Jan, a Warduk general of proved courage and capacity. The
plan of campaign was comprehensive and well devised. A contingent
from the Logur country south of Cabul was to seize the Sher Darwaza
heights, stretching southward from Cabul toward Charasiah. The northern
contingent from the Kohistan and Kohdaman was to occupy the Asmai
heights north-west of the city, while the troops from the Maidan and
Warduk territory away to the south-westward of the capital, led by
Mahomed Jan in person, should come in by Urgundeh across the Chardeh
Valley, take possession of Cabul, and rally to their banners the
disaffected population of the city and the surrounding villages. The
concentration of the three bodies effected, Cabul and the ridge against
which it leans occupied, the next step was to be the investment of
the Sherpur cantonment, preparatory to an assault in force upon that
stronghold.
The British general, through his spies, had information of those
projects. To allow the projected concentration would be fraught with
mischief, and both experience and temperament enjoined in Roberts a
prompt initiative. He resolved, in the first instance, to deal with
Mahomed Jan’s force, which was reckoned some 5,000 strong; the other
contingents might be disregarded for the moment. On the 8th of December
Baker marched out with a force consisting of 900 infantry, two and a
half squadrons, and four guns, with instructions to break up the tribal
assemblage in the Logur valley, march thence south-westward, and take a
position across the Ghuznee road in the Maidan valley, on the line of
retreat which it was hoped that Macpherson would succeed in enforcing
on Mahomed Jan. Macpherson was to move westward with 1,300 bayonets,
three squadrons, and eight guns, across the Chardeh valley to Urgurdeh,
where it was expected that he would find Mahomed Jan’s levies, which
he was to attack and drive southward to Maidan upon Baker. Should this
combination come off, the Afghan leader would find himself, it was
hoped, between the upper and the lower millstone, and would be punished
so severely as to hinder him from giving further trouble.
[Illustration: “HE HELD A DURBAR” (_p._ 235).]
It happened, however, as Macpherson was about starting on the
9th, that a cavalry reconnaissance found the Kohistanee levies in
considerable strength about Karez Meer, some ten miles north-west of
Cabul. It was imperative promptly to disperse them, and Macpherson,
on the 10th, had to alter his line of advance and move against the
Kohistanees, a divergence from the original plan which had the effect
of wrecking the previously arranged combined movement and bringing
about a very critical situation. After a sharp fight Macpherson routed
the Kohistanees, and halted on the ground for the night. In the hope
that the combination might still be effected, he was ordered to march
south-west toward Urgundeh on the morning of the 11th, where it was
hoped he would find Mahomed Jan and drive him towards Baker. Macpherson
had left his cavalry and wheeled guns at Aushar on the eastern edge
of the Chardeh valley; and he was informed that they would leave that
place at 9 a.m. of the same day, under the command of Brigadier-General
Massy, and move across the valley in the direction of Urgundeh, where
Macpherson, it was expected, would re-unite himself with them. Massy’s
orders were to proceed cautiously to join Macpherson, but “on no
account to commit himself to an action until the latter had engaged the
enemy.”
Macpherson marched from Karez Meer at eight a.m. of the 11th. Massy
left Aushar an hour later, and went across country instead of keeping
to the road. His force consisted of two squadrons 9th Lancers, a troop
of Bengal Lancers, and four horse artillery guns. Near Killa Kazee his
advance guard sent back word that the hills in front were occupied by
the enemy in considerable force. Massy halted when he saw some 2,000
Afghans forming across the road, and from the hills to right and left
broad streams of armed men pouring down the slopes and massing in the
plain. The surprise was complete, the situation full of perplexity.
There was no Macpherson within ken of Massy. If he retired, he probably
would be rushed. If, on the other hand, he should show a bold front,
and, departing from his orders in the urgent crisis face to face with
which he found himself, should strain every nerve to “hold” the Afghan
masses in their present position, there was the possibility that he
might save the situation and give time for Macpherson to come up.
Massy, for better or for worse, committed himself to the offensive,
and opened fire on the Afghan masses. But they were not daunted, and
the guns had again and again to be retired. The outlook was ominous
when Roberts arrived on the scene. He acted promptly, as was his wont,
directing Massy to retire till he found an opportunity to charge;
he sent General Hills back to Sherpur to warn its garrison to be on
the alert, and to order the despatch at speed of a wing of the 72nd
Highlanders to the village of Deh Mazung in the throat of the gorge of
the Cabul river, which the Highlanders were to hold to extremity.
The moment seemed to have come for the action of the cavalry. Colonel
Cleland led his lancers straight for the centre of the Afghan line.
Captain Gough, away on the Afghan left, eagerly “conformed,” crushing
in on the enemy’s flank at the head of his troop. There have been
few forlorner hopes than the errand on which, on this ill-starred
day, over 200 troopers rode into the heart of 10,000 Afghans flushed
with unwonted good fortune. Through the dust-cloud of the charge
were visible the flashes of the Afghan volleys and the sheen of the
British lance-heads as they came down to the “engage.” There was a
short interval of suspense, the din of the _mêlée_ faintly heard,
but invisible behind the bank of smoke and dust. Then from out the
obscurity of the battle riderless horses came galloping back, followed
slowly by broken groups of dismounted troopers. Gallantly led home,
the charge had failed. What other could have been the result? Sixteen
troopers had been slain, seven were wounded; two brave young officers
lay dead where they fell. Cleland came out with a sword cut and a
bullet wound, which latter gave him his death a few months later. The
Afghans pressed on. A gun had to be spiked and abandoned, its officer,
Lieutenant Hardy, remaining by it until killed; three other guns stuck
fast in a watercourse. All four were gallantly recovered by Colonel
Macgregor the same afternoon by a most skilful and daring effort, which
only he would have ventured upon. The retreat was stubborn and orderly;
but there was an anxious interval at Deh Mazung until the Highlanders
came through the gorge at the double; when, after a short interval of
firing, the Afghans climbed the slopes of the Sher Derwasa heights,
and occupied the summit of the Tahkt-i-Shah. Macpherson, marching
in, struck and broke the Afghan rear. On the 12th, Baker fought his
steadfast way back to Sherpur. The casualties of the 11th were not
light--thirty men killed and forty-four wounded. The Afghans were
naturally elated by the success they had achieved, and it was clear
that Mahomed Jan had a quick eye for opportunities and some skill in
handling men.
From the Sher Derwasa heights Macpherson, with barely 600 men,
attempted, on the morning of the 12th, to carry the rocky summit of
the Tahkt-i-Shah, but after a prolonged and bitter struggle it had to
be recognised that the direct attack by so weak a force, unaided by a
diversion, could not succeed. Macpherson remained on the ground he had
actually won, informed that on the following morning he was to expect
Baker’s co-operation from the south. The casualties of the abortive
attempt included three officers, one of whom--Major Cook, V.C., of the
Goorkhas, than whom the British army contained no better soldier--died
of his wounds.
The lesson of the result of attempting impossibilities had been
taken to heart, and the force which Baker led out on the morning
of the 13th was exceptionally strong, consisting as it did of the
92nd Highlanders and the Guides infantry, a wing of the 3rd Sikhs, a
cavalry regiment, and eight guns. Marching in the direction of the
lateral spur stretching out from the main ridge eastward towards Beni
Hissar, Baker observed that large masses of the enemy were quitting
the plain villages in which they had been spending the winter night,
and were hurrying upward to gain and hold the summit of the spur,
which constituted the main defensive position of the Afghan reserve.
His opportunity flashed upon the ready-witted Baker. By gaining the
centre of the spur he would cut in two the Afghan mass, holding its
continuous summit, and so isolate and neutralise the portion of that
mass in position from the centre of the spur to its eastern extremity.
To effect this stroke it was, however, necessary that he should act
with promptitude and energy. His guns opened a hot fire on the Afghan
bodies holding the crest of the spur. His Sikhs, extended athwart the
plain, protected his right flank; his cavalry on the left cut into
the groups of Afghans hastening to ascend the eastern extremity of
the spur. With noble emulation the Highlanders and the Guides sprang
up the rugged slope, their faces set towards the centre of the summit
line. Major White, who had already earned many laurels in the campaign,
led on the 92nd; the Guides, burning to make the most of their first
opportunity to distinguish themselves, followed eagerly the gallant
Jenkins, the chief who had so often led them to victory on other
fields. Lieutenant Forbes, a young officer of the 92nd, heading the
advance of his regiment, reached the summit accompanied only by his
colour-sergeant. A band of Ghazees rushed on the pair, and the sergeant
fell dead. As Forbes stood covering the body, he was overpowered and
slain. The sudden and bloody catastrophe staggered for a moment the
soldiers following their officer, but Lieutenant Dick Cunyngham rallied
them immediately and led them forward at speed. For his conduct on this
occasion Cunyngham worthily received the Victoria Cross.
With rolling volleys the Highlanders and the Guides reached and won the
rocky summit. The Afghans momentarily defended the position, but the
British fire swept them away, and the bayonets disposed of the Ghazees,
who fought and died under their standards. The severance of the Afghan
line was now complete. A detachment was left to maintain the isolation
of some 2,000 of the enemy who had been cut off; and then swinging to
their right with a cheer Baker’s regiments swept along the spur towards
the main ridge and the Takht-i-Shah. As they rushed forward they rolled
up the Afghan line, and the enemy fled in panic flight. Assailed from
both sides, for Macpherson’s men were climbing the north side of the
peak, and shaken by the fire of the mountain guns, the garrison of the
Takht-i-Shah evacuated the position. Baker’s soldiers toiled vigorously
upward towards the peak, keen for the honour of winning it; but that
honour justly fell to their comrades of Macpherson’s command, who had
striven so valiantly to earn it on the previous afternoon, and who had
gained possession of the peak and the standards left flying on its
summit a few minutes in advance of the arrival of White’s Highlanders
and Jenkins’ Guides. As the midday gun was fired in the Sherpur
cantonment, the flash of the heliograph from the peak told that the
Takht-i-Shah was won.
While the fight was proceeding on the mountain summits, another was
being fought on the Siah Sung upland springing out of the plain, within
artillery range of Sherpur. On this elevation had gathered masses
of Afghans from the turbulent city and from the villages about Beni
Hissar, with intent to hinder Baker’s return march. The Sherpur guns
shelled them, but they held their ground, and the cavalry galloped
out from the cantonment to disperse them. The Afghans showed unwonted
resolution; but the British horsemen were not to be denied. Captains
Butson and Chisholme led their squadrons against the Afghan flanks,
and the troopers of the 9th Lancers swept their fierce way through
and through the hostile masses. But in the charge Butson was killed,
and Chisholme and Trower were wounded; the sergeant-major and three
men were killed, and seven men were wounded. Brilliant charges were
delivered by the other cavalry detachments, and the Siah Sung heights
were ultimately cleared. The Guides’ cavalry attacked, defeated, and
pursued for a long distance a body of Kohistanees marching north
apparently with intent to join Mahomed Jan. The casualties of the
day were sixteen killed and forty-five wounded--not a heavy loss,
considering the amount of hard fighting. The Afghans were estimated to
have lost in killed alone from 200 to 300 men.
The operations of the 13th were successful so far as they went, but
the actual results attained scarcely warranted the belief that the
Afghans had suffered so severely that they would now break up their
combination and disperse to their homes. The General, indeed, was
under the belief that the enemy had been “foiled in their western and
southern operations.” But the morning of the 14th effectually dispelled
the optimistic anticipations indulged in overnight. At daybreak large
bodies of Afghans, with many standards, were discerned on a hill
about a mile northward of the Asmai heights, from which hill and
from the Kohistan road they were moving on to the Asmai crest. They
were presently joined there by several thousands climbing the steep
slopes rising from the village of Deh Afghan, the northern suburb of
Cabul. It was estimated that about 8,000 men were in position on the
Asmai heights, and occupying also a low conical hill beyond their
north-western termination. The array of Afghans displayed itself
within a mile of the west face of the Sherpur cantonment, and formed a
menace that could not be brooked. To General Baker was entrusted the
task of dislodging the enemy from the threatening position, with a
force consisting of about 1,200 bayonets, eight guns, and a regiment
of native cavalry. Baker’s first object was to gain possession of
the conical hill already mentioned, and thus debar the Afghan bodies
on the Asmai heights from receiving accessions either from the hill
further north or by the Kohistan road. Under cover of the artillery
fire, the Highlanders and Guides occupied the conical hill after a
short conflict. A detachment of all arms was left to hold it, and
Colonel Jenkins, who commanded the attack, set about the arduous task
of storming from the northward the formidable position of the Asmai
heights. The assault was led by Brownlow’s brave Highlanders of the
72nd, supported on their right by the Guides operating on the enemy’s
flank, and the Afghan position was heavily shelled from the plain and
the cantonment.
[Illustration: CABUL.]
In the face of a heavy fire the Highlanders and Guides climbed the
rugged hillside leading up to the Afghan breastworks, on the northern
edge of the summit. The British shrapnel fire had driven many of its
defenders to seek shelter down in Deh Afghan; but the Ghazees in the
breastworks fought desperately, and died under their standards as
the Highlanders carried the defences with a rush. The crest--about
a quarter of a mile long--was traversed under heavy fire, and the
southern breastwork on the Asmai peak was approached. It was strong,
and strongly held; but a cross-fire was brought to bear on its
garrison, and then the frontal attack, led gallantly by Corporal Sellar
of the 72nd, was delivered. After a hand-to-hand grapple, in which
Highlanders and Guides were freely cut and slashed by the Ghazees, the
position, which was full of dead, was carried, but with considerable
loss. The Afghans streamed down from the heights, torn as they
descended by shell-fire and musketry-fire: when they took refuge in Deh
Afghan that place was heavily shelled. The whole summit of the Asmai
heights was now in British possession, and it seemed for the moment
that a decisive victory had been won.
But scarcely had Jenkins found himself in full possession of the
Asmai position, when the fortune of the day was suddenly overcast. A
great host of Afghans, estimated to number from 15,000 to 20,000, had
debouched from the direction of Indiki into the Chardeh valley, and was
moving swiftly northward with the apparent object of forming a junction
with the masses occupying the hills to the north-west of the Asmai
heights.
[Illustration: “COLONEL CLELAND LED HIS LANCERS”
(_p._ 238).]
Cavalry scouts galloping from the Chardeh valley brought in the tidings
that large bodies of hostile infantry and cavalry were hurrying
across the valley in the direction of the conical hill, which was
being held by Lieutenant-Colonel Clark, with only 120 Highlanders and
Guides. Baker, recognising Clark’s weakness, reinforced that officer
with four mountain guns and 100 bayonets--a reinforcement which
proved inadequate. The guns, indeed, opened fire on the Afghan bodies
crossing the valley and drove them out of range; but these bodies
coalesced dexterously with the host advancing from Indiki, and then
the great Afghan mass, suddenly facing to the right, struck the whole
range of the British position, stretching from near the Cabul gorge
on the south to and beyond the conical hill on the north. The most
vulnerable point was about that eminence. Baker sent Clark a second
reinforcement, and 200 Sikhs doubled out from Sherpur to further
strengthen him. But the Afghans, swarming up from out the Chardeh
valley, had the shorter distance to travel, and were beforehand with
the hurrying reinforcements. As the Afghan front and flank attacks
developed themselves, they encountered from the garrison of the conical
hill a heavy rifle fire, and shells at short range tore through the
loose rush of Ghazees; but the bhang-maddened fanatics sped on and
up without wavering. As they gathered behind a mound for the final
onslaught, Captain Spens with a handful of his Highlanders, charged
out on the forlorn hope of dislodging them. A rush was made on the
gallant Scot; he was overpowered and slaughtered after a desperate
resistance, and the charge of the infuriated Ghazees swept up the
hillside. In momentary panic the defenders yielded the ground, carrying
downhill with them the reinforcement of Punjaubees which Captain Hall
was bringing up. Two of the mountain guns were lost, but there was a
rally at the foot of the hill, under cover of which the other two were
extricated. The Afghans refrained from descending into the plain, and
directed their efforts towards cutting off the British troops still in
position on the Asmai heights.
[Illustration:
ROBERTS’
BATTLES ABOUT
CABUL.
December, 1879.]