CHAPTER I.
[June-September: 1842.]
The Advance from Jellalabad—Instructions of Lord Ellenborough—The
Question of Responsibility—Employment of the Troops at
Jellalabad—Operations in the Shinwarree Valley—Negotiations
for the Release of the Prisoners—The Advance—Mammoo
Khail—Jugdulluck—Tezeen—Occupation of Caubul.
The summer months passed away, and still left General Pollock at
Jellalabad, and General Nott at Candahar. Whether it were the intention
of the Governor-General that they should advance upon Caubul, or
fall back at once upon Peshawur and Quettah, was a problem of very
difficult solution. Such data as were afforded them by the letters
of Lord Ellenborough and his secretaries sufficed only to plunge
them into a state of still deeper bewilderment and mystification.
Every fresh letter seemed to render the obscurity more obscure. The
Governor-General’s instructions to Pollock and Nott at this time
resembled nothing so much as those given to children in the “game of
contraries”—to hold fast when they are ordered to let go, and to
let go when they are ordered to hold fast. Lord Ellenborough was, in
effect, perpetually telling the generals that when he suggested to them
to go forward it was their business to come back.
It is probable that Lord Ellenborough himself had no very clear
perception, at this time, of the course which he purposed to pursue.
He had made up his mind, he said, to save India in spite of every man
in it who ought to give him support;[240] but it seemed to be his
idea to save India rather by withdrawing all our troops within the
Sutlej, than by striking a decisive blow for the re-establishment
of our military supremacy in Afghanistan. It was his opinion that
the danger of our position at that time arose from the absence of
so large a body of troops from the provinces of Hindostan; and that
we might better afford to leave our external injuries unredressed,
than weaken our means of defence in India itself for the purpose of
redressing them. Viewing the matter in this light, Lord Ellenborough
thought less of redeeming the military character of the British nation
than of bringing back the troops to Hindostan; and he would have
brought them back without an effort at such redemption, if the almost
universal voice, not only of the chief civil and military officers,
but of the Anglo-Indian community at large, had not been lifted up
against so inglorious and degrading a concession. The opinions and
desires of Pollock and Nott—of Robertson and Clerk—of Rawlinson,
Outram, Macgregor, Mackeson, and others, who were eager for a forward
movement, and little inclined to conceal their genuine sentiments
under a cloak of official reserve—how little soever Lord Ellenborough
might have been disposed outwardly to acknowledge their influence—were
not without their effect. Public opinion he professed to despise. The
judgments of the Press he pretended to hold in such absolute contempt,
that he lived in habitual ignorance of all that emanated from it;
but it is believed that this disregard of public opinion was rather
a profession than a fact, and that Lord Ellenborough was shaken in
his determination to bring back the armies to the provinces, by the
clamour that, from one end of India to the other, was raised against
the obnoxious measure of withdrawal. He had by this time, too, received
information from England that an inglorious retirement from the scene
of our late humiliation, and the abandonment of all the brave men,
tender women, and innocent children, in the hands of the Afghans,
would be viewed with no satisfaction either by his old ministerial
colleagues, or by the people of Great Britain. Many powerful external
influences, therefore, roused him to a sense of the necessity of doing
something in advance; but the “withdrawal policy” was emphatically his
own, and he was resolute to preserve the shadow of it if he could not
maintain the substance.
In this conjuncture, he betook himself to an expedient unparalleled,
perhaps, in the political history of the world. He instigated Pollock
and Nott to advance, but insisted that they should regard the forward
movement solely in the light of a retirement from Afghanistan. No
change had come over the views of Lord Ellenborough, but a change had
come over the meaning of certain words of the English language. The
Governor-General had resolutely maintained that the true policy of
the English Government was to bring back our armies to the provinces
of India, and that nothing would justify him in pushing them forward
merely for the re-establishment of our military reputation. But he
found it necessary to yield to the pressure from without, and to push
the armies of Pollock and Nott further into the heart of the Afghan
dominions. To preserve his own consistency, and at the same time to
protect himself against the measureless indignation of the communities
both of India and of England, was an effort of genius beyond the
reach of ordinary statesmen. But it was not beyond the grasp of Lord
Ellenborough. How long he may have been engaged on the solution of the
difficulty before him, History cannot determine. But on the 4th of July
it was finally accomplished. On that day Lord Ellenborough, who had
entirely discarded the official mediation of the Commander-in-Chief,
despatched two letters to General Pollock and two to General Nott. In
these letters he set forth that his opinions had undergone no change
since he had declared the withdrawal of the British armies to the
provinces to be the primal object of Government; but he suggested
that perhaps General Nott might feel disposed to retire from Candahar
to the provinces of India by the route of Ghuznee, Caubul, and
Jellalabad;[241] and that perhaps General Pollock might feel disposed
to assist the retreat of the Candahar force by moving forward upon
Caubul.
It has been seen, that on the 1st of June Lord Ellenborough had granted
General Pollock a constructive permission to remain at Jellalabad until
the month of October; and that General Pollock had determined to turn
this permission to the best account. The mind of the statesman was
running on retirement; the mind of the soldier on advance. The great
obstacle either to retirement or to advance had been the scarcity
of carriage. But in the early summer months every exertion had been
made by the authorities in Upper India to procure carriage for the
use of the armies in Afghanistan. Lord Ellenborough had exerted
himself to obtain cattle; Mr. Robertson, the able and energetic
Lieutenant-Governor of the North-Western Provinces, had exerted himself
to obtain cattle.[242] The Governor-General threw his heart into the
work, because he was eager to bring back the armies to Hindostan; the
Lieutenant-Governor threw his heart into the work, because he was eager
to push them on to Caubul. So it happened, that before the end of
June, there was a sufficiency of cattle at General Pollock’s disposal
to enable him to do something; and he reported to Government that his
means of movement were such that he was able to make a demonstration in
the neighbourhood of Jellalabad. Upon this, Lord Ellenborough, through
his secretary, wrote to him on the 4th of July that he was rejoiced to
hear, the General was able to do something; but that he (the General)
must, on no account, think that any change had come over the opinions
of Government, which still inclined resolutely towards the withdrawal
of the army at the earliest moment consistent with the health and
efficiency of the troops.[243]
On this same 4th of July the Governor-General wrote twice to General
Nott—once through his secretary and once with his own hand. He sent
the General a copy of his instructions to Pollock, impressing upon
him that all his views were in favour of a prompt withdrawal; and
he addressed to him a long inconclusive letter, instructing him to
withdraw from Afghanistan, but telling him, at the same time, that the
line of withdrawal was to be left to his own choice. He might retire
by going backward, by Quettah and Sukkur, or he might retire by going
forward, by Ghuznee, Caubul, and Jellalabad. But whichsoever line he
might take, he was never for a moment to lose sight of the fact that
Lord Ellenborough had decreed that he should retire, and that retire he
must.[244]
It was fortunate for Lord Ellenborough and for the country that he
had to deal at this time with men who thought more of the honour of
Great Britain than of their own safety; and who did not shrink from
responsibility, if, by incurring it, they had a reasonable chance of
conferring great and lasting benefits upon the government which they
served, and the nation which they represented. But Lord Ellenborough’s
instructions to the Generals were so worded—whether by accident or
by design I do not presume to determine—as to cast upon them all the
onus of failure, and to confer upon the Governor-General, or at least
to divide with him, all the honour of success. One thing at least is
certain—the letter of the 4th of July, addressed to General Nott and
signed by the Chief Secretary, ought not to have been written. It is
either from first to last a masterpiece of Jesuitical cunning, or it
indicates a feebleness of will—an infirmity of purpose—discreditable
to the character of a statesman entrusted with the welfare and the
honour of one of the greatest empires in the world.
But, whatever may have been the amount of responsibility cast upon the
two Generals, neither Pollock nor Nott shrunk from it. They cheerfully
took up the burden and placed it on their own shoulders.[245] They had
obtained now all that they wanted. They had no doubt of the ability of
their troops to carry everything before them. Cattle had been supplied,
or were being supplied, sufficient for all their movements. It was
only necessary that they should act in concert with each other—that
they should so combine their operations as to reach the capital at
the same time, and strike the last blow together. But it was no easy
thing in those days to carry on a correspondence between Jellalabad
and Candahar; and it was long before Pollock received an answer to
his letters. Five messengers were despatched in succession to Nott’s
camp;[246] but it was not before the middle of August that Pollock
could assure himself of his brother-general’s intentions to advance
upon Caubul at all.[247]
In the mean while, neither General had been wholly inactive. At
Jellalabad, Pollock had been making a demonstration against some
hostile tribes, and carrying on negotiations for the release of the
British prisoners. The Governor-General had several times, in rather
obscure language, suggested to Pollock that it might be desirable to
strike a blow at some one somewhere in the neighbourhood of Jellalabad;
and now the General sent out Monteith into the Shinwarree valley
to read a lesson to the tribes who had possessed themselves of the
property plundered from our army, and who held in their hands one
of our captured guns. These things were to be now demanded from the
tribes, or to be wrested from them at the point of the bayonet. In the
middle of June, Monteith descended into the valley, with a brigade
of European and Native troops, and a sufficiency of guns for his
purpose. The troops, so long held in restraint, were now all fire and
impetuosity. The first sight, in the village of Ali-Boghan, of some
property that had belonged to our slaughtered army, maddened them past
control.[248] They began at once to fire the houses and to plunder
the inhabitants. But Monteith and Macgregor interfered for their
protection. The plundered property was restored. Even the money that
had been taken was made over again to the inhabitants.
The report of the violence that had been committed at Ali-Boghan spread
like wildfire through the valley. The people believed that the British
troops were about to fire all the villages; so they began at once
to remove their property, and to fly in every direction from their
homes. Macgregor exerted himself to restore confidence among them, by
explaining the real designs of his government; and the people began to
return to their dwellings. But, although indiscriminate plunder and
destruction were not the objects of the expedition, the brigade had
been sent out to do certain work, and it soon became evident that it
could not be done without inflicting some injury upon the people. The
captured gun and the plundered property were to be recovered. It was
known that two of the principal chiefs of a place called Goolai were
in possession of a portion of the treasure that had fallen into the
hands of our enemies. It was known, too, that the captured gun was at
Deh-Surruk. It was determined, therefore, that the brigade should move
against these two places.
On the morning of the 20th of June, Monteith moved upon Goolai. “It
presented all the appearance of a flourishing little settlement.
Several of the forts were extensive and in good repair. They were
shaded by clusters of mulberry and willow trees. Flowing water passed
close to the forts, and served to irrigate the neighbouring fields
of cotton, rice, and jewaree. The summer harvest had just been
collected, and was stocked outside the fort in its unwinnowed state.
The inhabitants had evidently only time to escape with their portable
property before the troops reached Goolai. In fact, our visit was most
timely. Three or four days’ delay would have enabled them to carry off
their grain.”[249]
Monteith pitched his camp on some rising ground near the village, and
demanded the restitution of the plundered treasure. On the following
day evasive answers were received; there was no prospect of obtaining,
by peaceful negotiation, the concession that was demanded from the
chiefs. So the work of destruction commenced. Their forts and houses
were destroyed. Their walls were blown up. Their beautiful trees were
ringed and left to perish.[250] The retribution was complete.
The work of destruction went on for some days. In the mean while the
captured gun had been given up, and the people of Deh-Surruk were
willing to restore the treasure which they had taken; but they could
not easily recover it from the real possessors. However, after some
difficulty, upwards of 10,000 rupees, besides other property, were
recovered from the Shinwarrees. A large quantity of grain, timber,
boosa, and other requisites was appropriated at Goolai; and it was
supposed that the declared objects of the expedition had now been fully
accomplished.
But the Shinwarrees had not been thoroughly coerced. They had always
been a refractory people—unwilling to pay revenue either to Barukzye
chief or Suddozye Prince. It was thought advisable, therefore, to read
them a more severe lesson. So Monteith made a progress through the
valley, applied the firebrand to their forts, and shot them down in
their places of refuge. “At one time the interiors of five-and-thirty
forts were in a blaze along the valley.”[251] At a place named Mazeena
the tribes made some show of resistance; but the steady gallantry of
her Majesty’s 31st Regiment and of their Sepoy comrades was not to be
withstood; the shells from Abbott’s howitzers were irresistible; and so
Monteith effectually beat down the opposition of the Shinwarrees. This
was on the 26th of July. On the 3rd of August the brigade returned to
Jellalabad. From the 17th of June to this date, “both men and cattle
had entirely subsisted on the resources of the country.” “The cattle
especially,” added Captain Macgregor, concluding his report, “will be
found to have greatly improved in condition while employed on this
service. Indeed, in whatever way it may be viewed, it will be found
that the expedition has been highly beneficial to British interests.”
Whilst Monteith was carrying on these operations in the Shinwarree
valley, Pollock was carrying on negotiations for the release of the
British prisoners. On the 10th of July, Mackenzie having been stricken
down by fever and lying, as was supposed, at the point of death,
Captain Troup, accompanied by a native gentleman, named Hadjee Buktear,
had been despatched to General Pollock’s camp; but had brought back no
satisfactory intelligence to encourage and animate the Sirdar.[252]
The fact is, that Pollock had by this time begun to see his way to
Caubul. Lord Ellenborough and Mr. Robertson had exerted themselves
most successfully to supply him with carriage. He was eager to plant
the British standard on the Balla Hissar, and was unwilling to hamper
himself with any negotiations which might impede or delay his advance.
It was thought by some in Pollock’s camp that the Sirdar was not
sincere in his overtures, and that his real object was to gain time.
But Pollock was equally anxious to gain time. The emissaries were not
dismissed in a hurry; and when they returned at last to Caubul they
carried back only a verbal message, and that message contained a demand
for all the guns and trophies in the possession of the enemy.[253] It
was expected that another reference would be made to Jellalabad; and
that in the mean while Pollock would be supplied with the means of
rescuing the prisoners more majestically than by such negotiations. He
had received so many assurances from influential men at the capital
that the Caubulees would not suffer Akbar Khan to carry off the
prisoners to Toorkistan, that he believed the advance of his army would
tend more surely to their release than any diplomatic measure which he
could possibly adopt.
But Akbar Khan held a different opinion. When Troup returned to Caubul,
the Sirdar summoned him and Pottinger to an interview, declared that
he was not satisfied with Pollock’s verbal message, and candidly asked
their advice. Pottinger replied that the best advice he could offer
was, that Akbar Khan should immediately send down the whole of the
prisoners to Pollock’s camp at Jellalabad, as a proof of his sincerity
and good feeling. If there were any delay, he added, the negotiations
would be broken off, and the army would advance. To this the Sirdar
replied, that without a written promise from General Pollock to
withdraw his troops from Afghanistan the prisoners would not be sent to
his camp; and that they might at once banish the thought of a forcible
release of the prisoners on the advance of the British army, for that
as soon as intelligence should reach him of our troops having arrived
at Charbagh, he would send them all off to Toorkistan—scattering them
about by twos and threes among the different chiefs—and come down
himself with his fighting men to dispute the progress of the advancing
army.
To Pollock, this appeared a mere idle threat. He still clung to the
belief that there was a party in Caubul able and willing to prevent the
departure of the prisoners; and when Troup, accompanied by Lawrence,
came down again to Jellalabad, he found the General still less inclined
than before to promise to withdraw his army. He had, indeed, already
moved a brigade forward to Futtehabad—two marches in advance of his
old position; and Sale, who commanded this brigade, had written that
it was “a good place for a fight.”[254] All that Pollock, therefore,
could now promise was, that he would not advance beyond that point
before the expiration of a certain number of days. The negotiations
had, by this time, become the merest sham. It was obvious that Pollock
could not proceed with them to a successful issue without encumbering
himself with conditions which would have hung as a millstone round the
neck of a military commander, eager to drive his battalions into the
heart of the enemy’s country. The Governor-General wrote to him that
“all military operations must proceed, as if no negotiations were on
foot;” but Akbar Khan had rendered this impossible, by demanding, as a
condition of the delivery of the prisoners, that all the British troops
should withdraw from Afghanistan.[255]
Weary of these protracted negotiations, Pollock was now eager to
advance upon Caubul. He was only waiting the arrival of specific
information from Candahar relative to the movements of his
brother-general. “As I have offered to meet him,” he wrote to a
friend in high place, “he will find some difficulty in resisting the
_glorious_ temptation; but if he does resist, he is not the man I
take him for.”[256] The glorious temptation was not resisted. The two
Generals were worthy of each other. Nott had determined to retire to
India by Ghuznee, Caubul, and Jellalabad; and in the middle of the
month of August, a messenger, long expected and most welcome, brought
the cheering intelligence into Pollock’s camp.[257]
On the 20th of August, Pollock began to move from Jellalabad. On that
day the advanced guard under the General himself reached Sultanpore,
on its way to Gundamuck. At the latter place he intended to assemble
the whole of the troops which he had selected to accompany him to the
capital[258]—in all, about 8000 men. On the 23rd, Pollock, with the
advance, reached Gundamuck. About two miles from that place lies the
village of Mammoo Khail. Two hostile chiefs, having sent away all their
women and children, had mustered a strong body of the Ooloos, and were
occupying this position. Pollock at once determined to dislodge them;
and ordered up from Sale’s camp in the rear Broadfoot’s sappers and a
squadron of dragoons. On the following morning the brigade advanced,
and the enemy began to retire. Then, dividing his infantry into two
columns, with a wing of her Majesty’s 9th Foot at the head of each,
Pollock entered the village. The enemy had abandoned their positions
there, and at another village, called Koochlee Khail; but they rallied
and returned to occupy a range of heights within musket-shot of the
latter place, and from these commanding eminences, they kept up, for
some time, a hot fire from their jezails. But Colonel Taylor attacked
them on one side; Broadfoot, with his sappers, on the other.[259] The
heights were carried. The forts and villages were taken, and the enemy
dispersed. The chiefs fled to Caubul with a few followers. Mammoo Khail
and Koochlee Khail were destroyed by fire; and the fruit-trees were cut
down.[260]
Having accomplished this, Pollock returned to Gundamuck. The attack
on Mammoo Khail, which is not on the road to Caubul, was a diversion
rendered necessary by the appearance of the enemy in that direction.
But the General had yet to assemble his entire force, to assure himself
of the sufficiency of his supplies, and to make all the necessary
arrangements for his advance upon the capital. The delight with which
the announcement of the intended advance upon Caubul had been received
throughout the general camp is not to be described. The question of
advance or withdrawal had been for months eagerly discussed. Every
symptom had been watched with the closest interest—every report had
been canvassed with wondering curiosity. Acting under instructions from
the Supreme Government, Pollock had kept all his intended movements a
close secret. It was not, indeed, until the middle of August that even
Sir Robert Sale knew that the force would advance upon Caubul; and then
he was so wild with excitement that he could scarcely write a note to
the General to express his unbounded delight.[261]
There were now no longer any doubts regarding the forward movement
of the force. Officers and men were eager to push on to Caubul; and
willing to advance lightly equipped, leaving behind them all the
baggage that was not absolutely necessary to their efficiency. The
13th Light Infantry, ever ready to set an example to their comrades,
sent back a considerable portion of their baggage to Jellalabad, and
prepared to march with only a single change of linen. The officers of
the regiment were content to congregate, three or four together, in
small hill tents; and Broadfoot, at all times a pattern of chivalrous
zeal, offered to take on his sappers without any tents at all.[262]
Full of hope and courage the troops moved up, by brigades, to
Gundamuck. Making all his arrangements for the march, and waiting
intelligence from Nott,[263] Pollock remained at that place until the
7th of September. Supplies were pouring freely into camp. The rich
orchards and fruit-gardens of the surrounding country yielded their
luscious produce; and our officers were writing to their friends
that they were “luxuriating quietly on the most delicious fruits and
supplies of all kinds.” The neighbouring chiefs were coming in and
making submission to the English General. It was plain that already
the tidings of our advance were striking terror into the hearts of the
chiefs and people of Afghanistan.
It was on the 1st day of September, when Pollock was awaiting at
Gundamuck the assembling of his brigades, that an Afghan, of forlorn
aspect, in soiled and tattered clothes, rode upon a wretched pony,
attended by three followers, into the British camp. Two officers of
the general staff, Burn and Mayne, met the stranger as he approached,
and recognised him. They knew him to be Futteh Jung. They knew him
to be the man who, a day or two before, had borne the title of King
of Caubul. The fugitive was kindly received, and conducted to the
General’s tent. A salute was fired in his honour. Accommodation was
provided for him in the British camp, and everything that could conduce
to his comfort was freely granted to the unfortunate Prince.
For some time, Futteh Jung had been a wretched puppet at the Caubul
Court. He had been but a King of straw. The merest shadow of royalty
had been suffered to cling to him. Akbar Khan, for his own uses, held
the imbecile Prince firmly in his hands; and every day tightened his
grasp. He stripped him of all his power; he stripped him of all his
wealth. He threatened—he overawed him. He compelled him to attach his
seal, or his signature,[264] to papers resigning all authority into the
hands of the Wuzeer, and signifying his assent to everything that might
be originated or sanctioned by him.[265] Deeming that the unscrupulous
tyranny of Akbar Khan would soon manifest itself in the murder of
the whole royal family, the Prince directed his thoughts towards the
expediency of flight, and determined to claim the hospitality of the
British General. But Akbar Khan suspected his intentions, and flung him
into close confinement in the Balla Hissar. A Kuzzilbash gentleman,
named Aga Mahomed, aided him to escape from his perilous captivity. A
hole was cut through the roof of his prison, and he emerged into the
outer air. But, overcome by terror and by opium, his limbs refused
to perform their office, and on his perilous way to the Kuzzilbash
quarters, he more than once implored his deliverer to carry him back
to his place of captivity. The resolution, however, of Aga Mahomed
prevailed, and, having lodged the wretched Prince for a while in the
house of a Kuzzilbash lady—the Aga’s aunt—he raised a few thousand
rupees by pledging his own and his mother’s property, and then started
him on his perilous journey to the camping-ground of the British. With
some difficulty, often fired upon as he went, Futteh Jung made his way
through the passes; and at last, on the 1st of September, struggled
into Pollock’s camp.[266]
On the morning of the 7th of September, General Pollock, with the first
division of his army, accompanied by General Sir Robert Sale, moved
from Gundamuck,[267] in progress to the capital. The second division,
under General M’Caskill, marched on the following day. A party of the
Sikh contingent, under Captain Lawrence, accompanied this division.
These regiments had been sent up to Jellalabad in June, and had been
encamped on the opposite side of the river. They were the old Mussulman
corps who had behaved so infamously on the other side of the Khybur,
but who now had been talked over by Gholab Singh into something like
propriety of demeanour.[268] They behaved at least as well as the
British General expected, and when Lawrence sought permission for a
party of 500 men, horse and foot, to accompany, under his directions,
Pollock’s army to Caubul, the General was but little inclined to
refuse the request. So a party of 300 horse and 200 foot marched,
under Lawrence, with M’Caskill’s division; and the remainder occupied
positions at Neemlah and Gundamuck.
On the 8th of September, as the first division of Pollock’s army
approached the hills which commanded the road through the Jugdulluck
Pass, he found that their summits were occupied by the enemy.
Large bodies of Ghilzyes, under different chieftains, each with a
distinguishing standard, were clustering on the heights. “The hills
they occupied formed an amphitheatre inclining towards the left of the
road, on which the troops were halted whilst the guns opened, and the
enemy were thus enabled on this point to fire into the column, a deep
ravine preventing any contact with them.”[269] The practice of the guns
was excellent; but the Ghilzye warriors stood their ground. The shells
from our howitzers burst among them; but still they held their posts.
Still they poured in a hot fire from their jezails. So Pollock sent his
infantry to the attack; and gallantly they ascended the heights. On one
side, Broadfoot, ever in advance, led up his little band of sappers.
On the other, Taylor, with the 9th Foot, ascended the hills, where the
enemy, horse and foot, were posted behind a ruined fort. In the centre,
Wilkinson, with the 13th, pushed up the ascent towards the key of the
enemy’s position. All went forward with impetuous gallantry; and as
they clomb the hill-sides and seized the Ghilzye standards, up went an
animated and enthusiastic cheer from the British stormers. It was plain
that their heart was in the work, and that nothing could turn them
back. The flower of the Ghilzye tribes were there, under many of their
most renowned chieftains, and they looked down upon the scene of their
recent sanguinary triumphs. But they had now to deal with other men,
under other leaders. The loud clear cry of the British infantry struck
a panic into their souls. They turned and fled before our bayonets.
Then galloped Lockwood with his dragoons after the enemy’s horse;
but the nature of the ground was against him, and they escaped the
annihilation which otherwise would have been their fate.
But the battle was not yet over. A considerable body of the enemy had
betaken themselves for safety to an apparently inaccessible height.
On the summit of a mountain they planted their standards, and seemed
to look down with defiance upon our troops. But Pollock was resolute
not to leave, on that day, his work incomplete. He believed that where
the enemy could post themselves his infantry could attack them. So,
under cover of Abbott’s and Backhouse’s guns, Broadfoot and Wilkinson
again led up their men, and stormed that precipitous height. “Seldom
have soldiers had a more arduous task to perform, and never was an
undertaking of the kind surpassed in execution.”[270] The Ghilzyes
looked down upon them with astonishment and dismay. They saw at once
the temper of our men, and they shrunk from the encounter. Our stormers
pushed on, and the Ghilzye standards were lowered. The enemy fled in
confusion; and left the stronghold, from which they had looked down in
the insolence of mistaken security, to be occupied by British troops.
The victory was complete. It was mainly achieved, under Pollock’s
able directions, by the brave men of the old Jellalabad garrison.
Sale himself, who was never far off when there was likely to be hard
fighting, led up the heights in front of his old regiment, and was
wounded in the affray. The loss upon our side was trifling. Nothing
could have told more plainly than such a victory as this how little
formidable in reality were the best Ghilzye fighting men in their most
inaccessible strongholds, when opposed to British infantry under the
eye of a capable commander. The Ghilzye butchers were now seen flying
like sheep before the comrades of the men whom a few months before they
had slaughtered in these very shambles at Jugdulluck.
The first division alone of Pollock’s army was engaged with the enemy
at Jugdulluck.[271] The second division passed on, much molested by
the enemy, and often compelled to fight its way against large bodies
of Ghilzye footmen. On the 11th of September they joined the advance
in the neighbourhood of Tezeen. The exertions of a forced march had
fatigued M’Caskill’s cattle; so Pollock determined to devote the 12th
to a halt. Before the day had closed, it was evident that the enemy
were close at hand, and that we were on the eve of a great struggle.
Akbar Khan had been true to his word. He had despatched the bulk of
the English prisoners to the Hindoo-Koosh, and was now preparing
to meet our army. On the 6th of September he had moved his camp to
Begramee—distant some six miles from the Balla Hissar—and there
sent for Captain Troup.[272] The English officer repaired to the camp
of the Sirdar, who summoned a meeting of the principal chiefs. The
Newab Zemaun Khan, Jubbar Khan, Ameen-oollah Khan, Mahomed Shah Khan,
and other chief people of the empire attended the council. Troup was
not permitted to be present at the conference; but he soon learnt
its result. He was required immediately to proceed to Gundamuck on
a mission to Pollock’s camp. The chiefs had determined to endeavour
to conciliate the British General. They were willing to agree to any
terms he might please to dictate, if he would only consent to stay the
advance of his army upon the capital.
Troup declared his willingness to proceed on the mission. But he had
no hope, he said, of its success. The time for negotiation had passed.
Nothing could now stay the progress of Pollock’s army but the entire
destruction of his force. But so urgently did the Sirdar press his
request on the British officer, that Troup could not refuse his assent
to the proposal. He made his preparations for the journey, and then
returned to the Afghan camp. There, in the presence of Akbar Khan and
Mahomed Shah Khan, he again set forth the uselessness of the mission,
and prevailed with them to forego it.[273]
There was nothing now left for the Sirdar but to appeal to the God
of battles, and bring all the force that he could muster to oppose
the progress of Pollock’s army through the passes. He now moved down
to Boodkhak, and from that place summoned Troup and Bygrave to his
camp. It appeared to him that the English officers might render him
essential service in the negotiation of terms, if the tide of victory
turned against him. On the morning of the 11th they entered his camp at
Boodkhak. That evening he summoned them to his presence, and was for
some time in earnest consultation with them. He declared that he had
no wish to oppose the progress of the British army, but that he had
compromised himself too far to recede, and that the people would not
hear of submission. The English officers assured him that his defeat
was certain; and that opposition to our advance would only occasion an
useless expenditure of life. “I know,” said the Sirdar, “that I have
everything to lose; but it is too late to recede.” He declared that he
was indifferent as to the result. The issue of the contest was in the
hands of God, and it little mattered to him who was the victor.
On the following morning he sent for Troup, and announced that he and
Bygrave must accompany him to Koord-Caubul. Arrived at that place,
intelligence of the intended halt of Pollock’s army at Tezeen reached
the Sirdar. The Afghan chiefs had intended to make their last decisive
stand at Koord-Caubul; but the halt of the advancing army seemed to
indicate indecision, and it was rumoured that difficulties had arisen
to obstruct the progress of the force. On this, the Sirdar at once
determined to move on to Tezeen; and sent to Troup to announce his
intentions.[274] The English officer sought and obtained permission to
return to Ali Mahomed’s fort; and Akbar Khan went forward to do battle
with the British.[275]
On the 13th the two forces met. Great were the advantages of the ground
to the Afghan levies. The valley of Tezeen is commanded on all sides
by lofty hills; and the chiefs had posted their jezailchees on every
available height. Indeed, on that morning of the 13th of September,
Pollock’s camp was encircled by the enemy; and it was plain that every
effort had been made to turn the natural defences of the country to the
best possible account. There was a hard day’s work before Pollock’s
army; but never were a finer body of troops in finer condition, or
more eager for the work before them. All arms had now a chance of
distinguishing themselves—the cavalry on the plain, the infantry on
the hills, and the artillery everywhere. Fortunately the enemy’s horse
entered the valley, attracted by the hope of plundering our baggage.
The opportunity so eagerly desired by the dragoons was now at hand.
A British squadron, gallantly led by Unett, was let loose upon the
Afghan horsemen. The Native cavalry followed. There was a brilliant and
successful charge. The enemy turned and fled; but the sabres of the
dragoons fell heavily upon them; and many were cut up in the flight.
The infantry were not less successful. Gallantly they ascended the
heights on either side of the pass, and gallantly the Afghans advanced
to meet them. The stormers of the 13th Light Infantry clomb the hills
on the right; the 9th and 31st on the left; and as they went, hotly
and thick upon them poured the iron rain from the Afghan jezails. But
never, beneath the terrible fire that greeted them, as they pushed up
the hill-side, did these intrepid soldiers waver for a moment. They
knew that their muskets were no match for the Afghan jezails. The
enemy, indeed, seemed to deride them. So having reached the hill-top,
our men fixed their bayonets, and charged with a loud hurrah. The
cold steel took no denial. Down went the Afghan marksmen before the
English bayonets; the foremost men stood to be pierced, and the rest,
awed by the fall of their comrades and the desperate resolution of
the British troops, fled down the hill in confusion. The strength of
the Afghan force was broken; but the work of our fighting men was not
done. All through the day a desultory warfare was kept up along the
ridges of these tremendous hills. The Afghans occupying the highest
ground, fired down upon our infantry, hiding themselves when they could
behind the rocks, and shrinking now from a closer contest. Never did
British troops display a higher courage in action, or a more resolute
perseverance. Nobly did the Native Sepoy vie with the European soldier;
and nowhere was there a finer sight than where Broadfoot with his
sappers clambered up the steepest ascents under the hottest fire,
and drove before them the stalwart Afghans—giants beside the little
Goorkhas who pressed so bravely upon them. Many gallant feats were
done that day; and many an Afghan warrior died the hero’s death on his
native hills, cheered by the thought that he was winning Paradise by
such martyrdom. Desperate was the effort to keep back the invaders from
clearing the heights of the Huft-Kotul; but the British troops, on that
day, would have borne down even stouter opposition. The Huft-Kotul was
mounted; and three cheers burst from the victors as they reached the
summit of that stupendous ascent.
A more decisive victory was never gained. The Afghan chiefs had
brought out their best fighting men against us. They had done their
best to turn the difficulties of the country to good account against
the strangers. Their people were at home in these tremendous defiles;
whilst few of our troops had ever seen them—few were accustomed to
the kind of warfare which now alone could avail. There was everything
to stir into intense action all the energies of the Barukzye chief and
his followers. They were fighting in defence of their hearths and
altars; the very existence of the nation was at stake. It was the last
hope of saving the capital from the grasp of an avenging army. But with
everything to stimulate and everything to aid him, Akbar Khan could
offer no effectual resistance to the advance of Pollock’s retributory
force. The Afghans were fairly beaten on their own ground, and in their
own peculiar style of warfare. It has been often said that our troops
were maddened by the sight of the skeletons of their fallen comrades,
and that they were carried on by the irrepressible energy of revenge.
It is true, that all along the line of country, from Gundamuck to
Koord-Caubul, there rose up before the eyes of our advancing countrymen
hideous evidences of the great January massacre—enough to kindle the
fiercest passions in the hearts of the meekest men. But I believe that,
if no such ghastly spectacles had lain in the path of the advancing
army, the forward feeling would have glowed as strongly in the breasts
of every soldier of Pollock’s force.
The struggle was now at an end. Akbar Khan saw that the game was up,
and that it was useless to attempt to bring together the scattered
fragments of his routed army. Taking Captain Bygrave with him as the
companion of his flight, he fled to the Ghorebund valley. The fighting
men, who had opposed us at Tezeen, were now in disordered masses,
hurrying homewards along their mountain paths, and seeking safety in
places remote from the track of the avenging army, whilst Pollock
marched onwards with his regiments in orderly array,[276] and on the
15th of September encamped on the Caubul race-course.
CHAPTER II.
[May-September: 1842.]
The Advance from Candahar—The Relief of
Khelat-i-Ghilzye—Reappearance of Aktur Khan—General Action
with the Douranees—Surrender of Sufder Jung—The Evacuation of
Candahar—Disaster near Mookoor—The Battle of Goaine—The Recapture
of Ghuznee—Flight of Shumshoodeen Khan—Arrival at Caubul.
Whilst the force under General Pollock was fighting its way from
Jellalabad to Caubul, and carrying everything before it, the Candahar
division, under General Nott, was making a victorious march upon the
same point along the countries to the westward.
But it is necessary that, before I trace its progress to the capital,
the circumstances which preceded the evacuation of Candahar should
be briefly narrated. It has been stated that, in obedience to the
instructions contained in the government letters of the 19th of April,
a brigade under Colonel Wymer had been despatched to Khelat-i-Ghilzye,
to rescue the garrison there beleaguered, and to destroy the defences
of the place. On the 19th of May, Wymer’s force left Candahar. It
seems that the Ghilzyes had obtained information of the intended
movement, and determined to anticipate the attempted relief by making
a desperate, and, as they believed, decisive assault upon the place.
Accordingly, they prepared a number of scaling-ladders, practised
escalading, and, in the dim twilight of early morning on the 21st
of May, advanced in two heavy columns, each 2000 strong, to the
attack. Ascending the mound where the slope was easiest, they placed
their scaling-ladders against the walls, and gallantly mounted to the
assault. Three times they ascended to the crest of the works, and
three times they were nobly repulsed by Craigie and his men. The heavy
showers of grape and musket-shot which the garrison poured in upon
them, did not deter those desperate assailants—they went on again
and again to the attack, and were bayoneted on the parapets. For more
than an hour this desperate struggle lasted; and then the assailants,
whose impetuous courage had been overmatched by the steady gallantry
of Craigie’s garrison, gave way and abandoned the assault. The failure
was dearly purchased. More than a hundred dead bodies were found at
the foot of the works; and it was computed that the entire loss of the
enemy did not fall short of five hundred men. Not a man of the British
garrison was killed.
Before sunset the Ghilzyes had dispersed. Colonel Wymer, when he
reached Khelat-i-Ghilzye, had nothing to do but quietly to withdraw the
garrison, and to destroy the works of the place. It was believed that
the measure, as indicating the intentions of the British Government
to withdraw from Afghanistan, would create considerable sensation
throughout the country, and greatly embolden the enemy. But the Afghans
seemed rather to wonder why we had not extricated the garrison of
Khelat-i-Ghilzye before, and did not associate it with any ideas of the
general policy to be pursued by the British.
But before Wymer had returned from the northward, the Douranees had
again made trial of their strength in the field, and had again been
signally beaten. Aktur Khan, the Zemindawer chief, who throughout the
preceding year had been keeping the western districts of Afghanistan
in a state of continual turmoil, and who had more than once given
battle to our troops, was now again in the field against us. He had,
since his return from Herat, whither he had betaken himself for safety,
watched the progress of events without openly committing himself,
and had hitherto shown little disposition to link himself with the
Douranee cause. Indeed, at the beginning of May he had made overtures
to the British authorities, and offered, if they would confirm him
in the government of Zemindawer, to attack the Douranee camp. As
the month advanced, his conduct became more and more mysterious. He
was in constant communication with the Douranee chiefs, and yet at
the same time he was professing the strongest friendship for the
British Government, and offering to break up the Douranee camp. But
before the expiration of the month he threw off the mask, joined his
brother-chiefs with a considerable body of fighting men, and took the
command of the van-guard of the Douranee force.
It was obvious now that we were on the eve of another conflict.
The Ghazees moved down on the Urghundab, and made arrangements to
concentrate their troops in the neighbourhood of Baba-Wullee. It seemed
probable that they would be able to raise the neighbouring tribes
against us; and bring into the field a body of 4000 or 5000 men.
Weakened by the absence of Wymer’s brigade, and remembering the danger
to which the city had been exposed when he last moved out to attack
the Douranee camp, Nott determined to halt the detachment which he was
about to despatch to the Kojuck to bring up the carnage which had been
assembled for the withdrawal of his force. The enemy had chosen their
time wisely and well. They believed that, in the absence of some of his
best regiments, and nearly the whole of his cavalry force, Nott would
be little able to hold Candahar and to do battle with the Douranee
force in the open field. So they neared the city; and on the 29th of
May seemed to invite the contest.
Aktur Khan had drawn into his hands the chief control of the force.
What were his designs, at this time, it is not easy to determine.
On the 27th he had again made overtures to the British authorities,
offering to seize Meerza Ahmed, and to do his best to dissolve the
Douranee force. At all events, if he could not accomplish this, he
would, he said, on the first attack of the British, draw off his own
followers, and then, taking advantage of their discomfiture, fall on
their rear and plunder their baggage. But these offers were thrown away
upon Nott and Rawlinson. They had no faith in the man.
Early on the morning of the 29th of May the enemy began to appear in
the neighbourhood of Candahar—hovering about the cantonments, and
carrying off our baggage-cattle. As the day advanced, their numbers
increased; but it was still believed by the General that they were only
reconnoitring our position, and that they would not then give battle to
our troops. Under this impression, Colonel Stacy, with two regiments of
infantry and four guns, had been sent out to sweep away the intruders.
It happened that his movements deceived the enemy. Believing at one
time that he was retreating, the Ghazees pushed forward and occupied
some rocky heights to the west of our cantonments, from which they
opened a distant fire on our line. These movements were seen from the
city.[277] It was obvious that the enemy were determined to bring on
an engagement. So Nott sent out the 41st Queen’s and eight guns; and an
hour after mid-day mounted his horse and rode out to take the command
of his troops. Rawlinson went with him.
Covered by the fire of the guns, the light companies were now ordered
to storm the heights. The work was done rapidly and well. Standing out
in bold relief against the sky, the forms of our stormers were soon
seen upon the ridge of the hills; and as the enemy were driven down,
Chamberlaine’s Horse swept round amongst them and cut them up with
heavy slaughter. Rawlinson then took the Parsewan Horse to clear the
hillocks, to the right, of the detached bodies of the enemy which still
clung to them, and Tait, with his horse, was sent to support him. The
Parsewan Horse charged gallantly; but the ground was difficult, and the
enemy fled towards the mouth of the Baba-Wullee Pass. Rawlinson pushed
on in hot pursuit; but turning off to follow a party of the enemy’s
horse, who seemed to have missed the outlet, well-nigh cut down or
captured Mahomed Atta himself, who was afterwards known to have been at
the head of them.
The rout of the enemy was complete.[278] But the movements of our
troops were too slow to turn it to good account. The Ghazees made for
the Baba-Wullee Pass. They had barricaded this pass with stones, and
they had thrown up a strong breast-work in another direction, intending
them as defences to lie between the British position and their own. But
now, instead of finding these works in their front, they found them
in their rear. They had not intended that the battle should be fought
so near to the walls of Candahar. It was their design to take up a
position within these defences; but, emboldened by the stories of the
scouts, who had reported that we were too weak to operate beyond the
walls, they had determined to pitch their camp in the vicinity of the
cantonment and to invest Candahar. Had our guns been pushed on with
sufficient activity, the enemy would have found the barricade which
they had erected for their defence a terrible obstruction on their
retreat. But the greater number of them effected their escape; and
Nott, contented with his victory, drew off his troops.[279]
On the following day, Stacy went out with a brigade, and Rawlinson
took the Parsewan Horse to the banks of the river. The enemy’s horse
had not wholly disappeared; and it was believed that they might again
be drawn into another skirmish. But they were not inclined for more
fighting. As our skirmishers advanced, they fell back and crossed the
river. The chiefs held a council of war, and the day was spent in
stormy debate. But when the shades of evening fell upon them, they had
matured no plan of operations. They broke up without a decision. Again
they met on the following day. One plan and then another was discussed.
Some proposed that they should proceed to Caubul. Some that they should
assemble in Zemindawer. Others recommended that they should hold their
ground upon the Urghundab; but the greater number were of opinion that
it would be more expedient to move off to the northern district, and
there await the issue of events at the capital. Many of them sent into
the British camp to ask for terms; and it was obvious that, although
the suspicion of our approaching departure kept up considerable
excitement throughout the country, the Douranees had now arrived at the
inevitable conclusion that it was useless any longer to contend with us
in the field.[280]
In the meanwhile, Prince Sufder Jung was waiting a favorable
opportunity to cast himself upon the mercy of his enemies. On the
day after the action of the 29th of May, he had received a letter
from his brother, Futteh Jung, at Caubul, urging him to throw himself
upon the protection of the British; and the young Prince, weary of
the peril-laden life he had been leading, and seeing clearly the
hopelessness of the cause to which he had attached himself, determined
to follow the advice of his brother. So, on the following day, he
despatched a messenger with a note to Rawlinson, informing him that
he was on the point of mounting his horse to ride into the British
camp. But before the British officer’s answer reached him, Meerza
Ahmed and the chiefs discovered his intentions, and carried him off
with them across the river. His resolution, however, was not to be
shaken. The chiefs made him a close prisoner, and openly denounced him
as a traitor. But he continued to make overtures to Rawlinson, and at
last effected his escape. On the 18th of June a letter was brought
into the British camp, announcing that he had forsaken the Douranees,
and had made a night-journey to Baba-Wullee. Rawlinson reported
the circumstance to Nott, and the General consented to receive the
submission of the boy.[281] So, on the morning of the 19th, the British
political chief rode out with a party of Parsewan Horse to the mouth of
the Baba-Wullee Pass, and, through a crowd of excited gazers, who lined
the thoroughfares from the cantonments to the city, bought the Prince
into Candahar.
No easy part was that which Rawlinson was now called upon to play. The
conflicting claims and interests of the two Princes greatly distracted
and perplexed him. Justice and policy appeared to be at variance
with each other. Timour was a well-intentioned man; his fidelity had
never been questioned. He was the eldest son of Shah Soojah, and his
claims to the throne of Caubul were more valid, therefore, than those
of either of his brothers. But he was utterly without influence.
Convinced that he could never make his way with the chiefs or people
of Afghanistan, the British authorities were unwilling to support his
pretensions. Even for the governorship of Candahar they held him to be
incompetent; and now that Sufder Jung had returned to his allegiance,
they desired, on the earliest fitting opportunity, to place the
administration in his hands. The Candahar force was under orders to
return to Hindostan, and the best means of disposing of Prince Timour
was by the quiet removal of his Highness to the British provinces. This
was not yet to be openly announced to the Prince, for it was expedient
that the measure of withdrawal should not be publicly declared; but
Rawlinson hoped, that when the time came, he would be able to persuade
Timour to accompany the army to India, and to leave Sufder Jung in
possession of Candahar. In the meanwhile, both Princes were uneasy and
dissatisfied. Jealous of his younger brother, Timour protested against
his being permitted to mediate for the Douranee chiefs, or to interfere
with the Candahar Government; whilst Sufder Jung was continually
complaining of the incertitude of his position, and importuning
Rawlinson to come to some definite explanation with him.[282]
So Rawlinson determined to temporise. Putting off from day to day
the adjustment of these differences, he trusted to the chapter of
accidents, and ere long found something written down in his favour.
Before the end of June, it was announced at Candahar that Futteh Jung
had been overcome by the Barukzyes at Caubul, and that he was in effect
a mere prisoner in their hands. The intelligence, as regarded British
interests in general, was supposed to be unfavourable; but it went far
to diminish the difficulties which the presence of the two Princes at
Candahar arrayed against the British authorities. “Whilst Futteh Jung’s
star was on the ascendant,” wrote Rawlinson in his journal, “it was
equally difficult to manage Timour and Sufder Jung; but now they both
feel that they are entirely dependent upon us for support, and are
disposed, in consequence, to lay aside their private jealousies.”
The three first weeks of July passed away; and Nott was preparing
for his retirement from Afghanistan. Major Clarkson had, at the end
of June, brought up the convoy of camels from Quettah. The supply of
carriage and provisions for the movement of the army had now reached
its necessary amount. Everything was in train for withdrawal, when the
Governor-General’s letter of the 4th of July was put into Nott’s hands.
He saw at once the weight of responsibility that it threw upon him;
but he did not shrink from assuming the burden. Cheerfully taking it
up, he wrote to the Governor-General on the 20th of July: “Having well
considered the subject of your Lordship’s letter of the 4th instant;
having looked at the difficulties in every point of view, and reflected
on the advantages which would attend a successful accomplishment of
such a move, and the moral influence it would have throughout Asia, I
have come to a determination to retire a portion of the army under my
command _viâ_ Ghuznee and Caubul.”
The Candahar force was now to be divided. A portion of it was to be
sent to Quettah and Sukkur under General England; and the remainder,
under General Nott, was to “retire” to India by the route of Ghuznee,
Caubul, and Jellalabad. The heavy guns and six pieces of the Shah’s
artillery were to be sent down with England’s column, and with it
were to be despatched the Bombay Infantry, two companies of Bengal
Artillery, three regiments of the late Shah’s force, and some details
of Irregular Horse. Nott would not part with one of those “beautiful
Sepoy regiments” which had fought so well for him ever since he had
commanded the Candahar division; nor could he think of suffering the
40th Queen’s to be disunited from their old comrades. But of the 41st
Queen’s he wrote to Lord Ellenborough: “I certainly could have wished
to have taken her Majesty’s 41st Regiment with me, knowing the great
consequence of the adventurous march before me. But when I look to
Sindh, and to the want of confidence in our brave troops shown by
certain officers, I must give up that wish, however desirable, to
ensure the safety of the division which I am not to accompany.” But
he subsequently changed his mind, and took the 41st with him. Two or
three days passed; some slight preparations betokening departure were
made; the old and unserviceable guns were destroyed; the repairs,
which were going on, on the works, were arrested; and then it was
publicly announced that the force was to hold itself in readiness to
return to India. But by what route it was to retire was still a secret.
Speculation was busy throughout the garrison. There were all sorts of
rumours and conjectures, and then it was declared that Nott’s column
was to make its way across the country by the route of Dehra Ismael
Khan. It soon, however, was obvious that this was nothing more than a
report, which might have its uses, and the heart of every soldier in
Nott’s division soon beat with chivalrous emotion at the thought, that
the General, under whom they had so long and so gloriously served, was
about to lead them on to the re-conquest of Afghanistan.[283]
And now again came up for adjustment, rather than for consideration,
the question of the disposal of the Princes. Timour was eager to
proceed with the British force to Caubul, and hoped to be placed upon
the throne by his old supporters. His fidelity at least deserved
our support—but something else was required to induce the British
authorities to identify themselves with the interests of the Prince.
It was fortunate for Rawlinson that at this time the decision was
not left in his hands. On the 29th of July, letters were received
from the Governor-General, emphatically expressing his opinion of the
inexpediency of permitting the Prince to accompany the army in the
direction of Caubul, or even of permitting him to remain at Candahar.
His presence at Caubul, it was said, might greatly embarrass our
proceedings there; and though it would be advantageous for us that he
should establish his independent authority at Candahar, there seemed so
little likelihood of his being able to maintain his position after the
departure of the British troops, that, on the whole, it was the most
expedient course that he should accompany that portion of the force
which was to proceed by the way of Sindh to the provinces of India. The
communication of these resolutions to the Shaz-zadah was a painful
duty; and when Rawlinson announced them, they produced an explosion
very foreign to the passive nature of the apathetic Prince.
On the 7th of August, the British force evacuated Candahar. There were
no demonstrations of ill-will on the part of the inhabitants. No acts
of licentiousness were committed by the soldiery. The movement was
effected in the most orderly and peaceable manner. The soldiers and the
citizens were seen embracing each other. Before night closed upon the
scene, Prince Timour moved out of the citadel, and Sufder Jung remained
in possession of Candahar.
On the following day, completing their Commissariat arrangements, Nott
and England remained in camp under the city walls. Many of the most
influential people of the new government waited upon Rawlinson, seeking
his advice. On the 9th, Nott commenced his march to the northward,
and England prepared to move in the opposite direction. The latter
was dissatisfied with the components of his force. He applied to Nott
for an European regiment to accompany him, and received in reply an
indignant rebuke.
From Candahar to Mookoor the progress of Nott’s division was easy and
uneventful. But few traces of the recent excitement were discernible
along the line of march. The villages seemed wonderfully tranquil. The
villagers brought in their supplies more freely than our officers had
ever ventured to expect. Every precaution was taken by the General to
prevent the commission by his troops of acts of lawless depredation. He
declared, that if any soldier were caught in the act of plundering, or
returning with plunder in his possession, he would hang the offender,
and remove the officer to whose regiment he might belong from the
command of his corps.
On the 27th of August, the force arrived at Mookoor. Up to this
point—a distance of 160 miles—not a shot had been fired. But there
were symptoms now of more active work for our troops. Some days
before their arrival at Mookoor, Shumshoodeen Khan had moved out of
Ghuznee with a party of 500 horse and two guns, to collect revenue in
the adjacent country. He was ignorant, at the time, of our advance;
but when the tidings reached him, he prepared at once to contest the
progress of the British force; threw all his energies into the work of
raising the country between Ghuznee and Mookoor; and made arrangements
“for all the chiefs to rendezvous at the latter place, and fight us at
the source of the Turnuck.”[284]
But the British force approached Mookoor; and Shumshoodeen Khan was not
ready to receive them. The chiefs had not come to the rendezvous. His
preparations were not completed. He had fallen back to the vicinity of
Oba, and there the chiefs were flocking to his standard. But, as Nott
advanced that sultry morning through a thick haze upon Mookoor, it
was plain to him that he was in an enemy’s country. The villages were
deserted. Supplies were not brought into his camp. He was compelled
to send his cavalry out to forage. It was plain, too, that the enemy
had wisely chosen the ground on which they had determined to give us
battle. There was no more defensible position on the whole line of
country from Candahar to Caubul than that at the source of the Turnuck,
which Shumshoodeen Khan had selected as his point of defence.[285]
The next day was an eventful one. On the morning of the 28th of August
the force advanced from Mookoor. The rear-guard had scarcely moved
from their encamping-ground when the enemy came down upon them. Nott
ordered out his irregular cavalry, under Captain Christie, who cut up
some fifty of the enemy’s footmen; and, but for an interposing ravine,
would have destroyed the whole. Without further molestation the force
reached its halting-ground and encamped. It was known that Shumshoodeen
was somewhere in the neighbourhood; but through the thick haze which
enveloped the camp, it was impossible to determine his position. The
camels went out to graze. The grass-cutters went out to obtain forage
for their horses. Everything was going on in camp after the wonted
fashion, when, an hour before noon, a report came in that Delamain’s
grass-cutters were being cut to pieces by the enemy. Delamain waited
for no orders—never paused to inquire into the truth of the story
that was brought to him—but at once ordered his troopers into their
saddles, and rode out, with all the disposable cavalry, in search of an
imaginary foe.
He soon found that it was a false alarm. His grass-cutters were not
in the hands of the enemy. But he went on to reconnoitre, and about
three miles from camp came up with a party of the enemy’s footmen on
the plain. Some twenty of them were cut down by our troopers, and the
remainder put to confusion and flight. Delamain went after them in
hot pursuit, and coming to the foot of a range of hills, turned the
shoulder of one of them, and found that the heights were crowned, in
considerable strength, by the enemy’s jezailchees, who opened upon him
a galling fire. He was falling back, in orderly retreat, when a body
of the enemy’s Horse, about 150 strong, showed themselves on the ridge
of a hill, flaunting a white standard. Delamain at once determined to
attack them. A squadron of the 3rd Bombay Cavalry charged up the hill;
but a hot fire from a party of jezailchees, who suddenly appeared on
their flanks, saluted them as they advanced; and then the enemy’s
Horse poured down upon them with tremendous effect. Captain Reeves was
shot near the foot of the hill. Captain Bury and Lieutenant Mackenzie
gained the ridge; but fell beneath the sabres of the Afghan horsemen.
The troopers now seeing their officers fall, borne down by the weight
of the Afghan Horse, and suffering severely from the fire of the
jezailchees, turned and fled down the hill. Their companions at the
foot of the hill caught the contagion from them. The panic spread, and
the whole body of British Horse were soon in disastrous flight. Riding
each other down in wild confusion, they were not easily reduced to
order. The loss among them had been severe. Two officers were killed,
and three wounded; and fifty-six of our men had been killed or disabled
in the fight.
In the mean while, exaggerated stories of the disaster had spread
throughout Nott’s camp. Messenger after messenger had come to the
General, and reported that the enemy were in immense force, and that
Delamain and his cavalry had been annihilated.[286] Twice he sent out
instructions for the troops to return to camp. At last it was reported
to him that the enemy were 7000 strong, and that Delamain, if not
already destroyed, was in imminent peril. So Nott took out his army and
moved against the enemy—expecting to find them flushed with success
and eager for a general action. But when they came upon the ground, it
was found that the enemy had moved off. Their videttes alone were to be
seen on the peaks of the hills.
But there was still work to be done. From some fortified villages in
the neighbourhood of the field of action it was said that shots had
been fired. The General marched upon them. In an attitude of abject
submission the villagers came out and prayed for quarter. Nott granted
the boon. But a company of the 40th Queen’s was sent in to search the
houses, where it was believed some plunder would be found. From the
matchlocks of some Ghazees shots were fired as our soldiers entered
the place. The result of the misdeed was terrible. The place was
given up to carnage. The women and children were spared; but the men
were indiscriminately butchered.[287] Not less than a hundred of the
villagers were massacred for the offences of a few men.
Whilst the General was thus employed, the cavalry, which had sustained
so mortifying a defeat, were endeavouring, with the aid of the horse
artillery and some infantry details, to rescue the bodies of their
dead. The corpses were brought off; and then the entire force returned
to camp. That evening the two European officers[288] received Christian
burial. The wounded officers recovered.
“This was a bad beginning,” wrote Rawlinson to Outram, “but we have
amply redeemed it since.” On the 30th of August the Candahar division
was again engaged with the enemy; and with better success. On the
preceding day, Shumshoodeen Khan had sent round the heads of the
officers who had fallen in the action of the 28th,[289] and, greatly
exaggerating the victory he had gained, endeavoured to raise the people
against the infidels whom he had beaten so gloriously in the field. On
that day considerable reinforcements joined him. He was seen on the
hills to the right of Nott’s camp, with four or five thousand men, and
it was believed that he would attack our troops in the course of the
morrow’s march. The morrow came. Nott marched to Ghoaine. Shumshoodeen
Khan moved parallel to him, and took up his position again on the
hills to the right of the British camp. As every hour was increasing
his numbers, he desired to postpone the inevitable collision. On the
afternoon of the 30th he is said to have mustered not less than 10,000
men.[290]
Not far from the ground on which Nott halted on that morning, was a
fort held by the enemy which he determined to attack. But the day
was sultry. The troops were exhausted by their march. So the General
pitched his camp at once, and giving his troops a few hours to recruit
and refresh themselves, postponed the attack to the afternoon.
At three o’clock the General went out with the 40th Queen’s, the
16th and 38th Native Infantry Regiments, all his cavalry details,
Anderson’s troop of Horse Artillery, two guns of Blood’s battery, and
two eighteen-pounders. The ground between our camp and the fort was
difficult. Some time elapsed before the guns could be brought up to
breaching distance. And, when at last they opened upon the fort, they
made so little impression, that Shumshoodeen was persuaded by his
chiefs not to shrink any longer from a general action with a force
whose cavalry had been already beaten in the field, and whose artillery
now seemed so little formidable. So, scattering his horsemen on both
sides so as to outflank us, Shumshoodeen moved down with the main
body of his infantry and his guns; and, planting the latter on the
nearest height, opened a rapid and well-directed fire on the British
columns.[291] Then Nott drew off his troops from the attack of the
fort, and advanced in column to the right, flanked by Anderson’s guns
and Christie’s Horse, upon the main body of Shumshoodeen’s fighting
men. On this the enemy crowded upon the other flank, keeping up a smart
fire both from their guns and jezails; so Nott “changed front to the
left, deployed, threw out skirmishers, and advanced in line, supported
by the guns.”[292] For some time, the enemy seemed inclined to engage
us, and kept up a sharp fire from their guns and jezails; but when
our troops came to the charge, and pushed on with a loud and cheerful
hurrah, the Afghans turned and fled before us. One of their guns broke
down and was immediately captured. Christie, with his Horse, went off
in pursuit of the other, sabred the drivers, and carried off the piece.
Shumshoodeen’s tents, magazines, and stores were found scattered about
the plain. The chief himself fled to Ghuznee; and the tribes who had
joined his standard now dispersed to their homes.
Nott halted upon his ground during the following day, and on the 1st
of September resumed his march. On the 5th, he was before Ghuznee.
The day was spent in desultory fighting. Shumshoodeen, who had been
reinforced from Caubul by Sultan Jan, occupied with a strong body of
horse and foot some heights to the north-east of the fortress. The
gay attire and fine chargers of the chiefs made them conspicuous even
at a distance.[293] The gardens, the ravines, and water-courses were
filled with jezailchees; and the city seemed to be swarming with men.
Before encamping his force, Nott determined to clear the heights; and
gallantly the work was done. Our troops ascended in noble style, and
drove the enemy before them until every point was gained.[294] In the
mean time the camp had been pitched. Two infantry regiments and two
guns were left out to occupy the heights, and the remainder of the
troops were then withdrawn.
Scarcely, however, had the troops entered their camp, when the great
Ghuznee gun, the “Zubbur Jung,” began to open upon it. It was plain
that Nott had taken up a position too near to the enemy’s works.
Fourteen shots were thrown into our camp without doing any mischief;
but the warning was not thrown away. The tents were struck, and the
camp was moved to another position, in the vicinity of the village of
Roza.[295] The movement was not without danger;[296] but the enemy
wanted spirit to turn it to good account—and in their new position our
troops were secure.[297]
Before sunset the firing had ceased. Sanders, the engineer, a man
of rare talent, now began to make his arrangements for the siege of
Ghuznee. It was not believed that the defence would be conducted with
much vigour. The fort was very poorly manned. It was obvious that
Shumshoodeen had trusted more to external operations. The tribes who
had been summoned for the defence of the city had already begun to lose
heart. When they saw our engineers at work busily constructing their
batteries, they called upon Shumshoodeen to come within the walls, and
take his share of the dangers of the siege. Vainly he represented that
his cavalry were of greater service beyond the walls—vainly he set
forth that as there was no barley in the city his horses could not be
fed. They had made up their minds to evacuate the place; and when night
closed in upon them, they moved out quietly by the water-gate of the
city, and betook themselves to the hills. Seeing now that all was over,
Shumshoodeen mounted his horse, and with a small party of followers
fled to Caubul.
The engineers worked busily throughout the night; but as the batteries
took shape under their hands, the stillness within the walls of Ghuznee
aroused their suspicions. So at early dawn, with a party of some twenty
men, North, the engineer, went down to reconnoitre; and finding the
water-gate open, and the city apparently abandoned, sent intelligence
to the party on the hill, and the 16th Regiment, which had remained
out to protect the working parties, was marched down to occupy the
place. They found it almost deserted. A few Hindoos and some Sepoys of
the unfortunate 27th Regiment were the only occupants of Ghuznee.[A]
And when, at early dawn, the officers of Nott’s camp looked through
their telescopes towards the citadel, they plainly saw our Sepoys on
the ramparts. Soon the British flag was waving from the highest tower,
and Shumshoodeen’s artillery, worked by his enemies, was roaring out
a royal salute in honour of their triumph. The General and his staff
rode out from camp to inspect the place, and to make arrangements for
its destruction. They found the city a mass of ruins; and in the houses
which had been occupied by the officers of Palmer’s garrison, many
sorrowful mementoes of the sufferings they had endured, written or
scratched on the walls. The citadel was in good repair, and every one
who inspected it marvelled how it happened that Palmer had yielded it
up, and trusted himself and his men to the honour of his treacherous
opponents.[298]
And now began the work of destruction. The artillery officers burst
the enemy’s guns, and the engineers ran mines and exploded them, under
different parts of the works. After this the town and citadel were
fired. The wood-work soon ignited, and all through the night the flames
of the burning fortress lit up the over-hanging sky.[299]
But there was something else now to be done. At the village of Roza,
in the vicinity of Ghuznee, is the tomb of Sultan Mahmoud. A peculiar
odour of sanctity is exhaled from that shrine. The priests, in whose
guardianship it is held, have their traditions concerning it, in which
the spurious greatly prevails. Its boasted antiquity is not supported
by any credible evidence; and when Major Rawlinson carried to the
examination of the inscriptions on the tomb all that profound knowledge
and acute penetration which have since attained for him, in the Eastern
and in the Western world, so wide a celebrity as the first of Oriental
antiquaries, he had at once detected unmistakeable proofs of their
belonging to a more recent period than the Moollahs had claimed for
them.[300] Still the shrine was a venerable one, and by the priesthood
of Afghanistan held in no common esteem. The famous sandal-wood gates
of Somnauth, which Mahmoud had carried off from their home in Guzerat,
were deposited at the conqueror’s tomb. Such at least had long been the
popular faith; and among the priesthood and the people of Afghanistan,
no one doubted that the trophies were genuine. It was reserved for
European scepticism to cast discredit upon the reality of the sacred
relics.
But, whether genuine or spurious, upon these gates Lord Ellenborough
had fixed his desires. What he knew about them, where he had read
of them, or by whom his attention was drawn to them, History
cannot determine. It is sufficient that on the 4th of July, when
the Governor-General wrote to General Nott, authorising him to
“retire” to the provinces of India, by the route of Ghuznee, Caubul,
and Jellalabad, he inserted in this memorable letter a paragraph
instructing the General to despoil the tomb of Sultan Mahmoud. “You
will bring away,” he wrote, “from the tomb of Mahmoud of Ghuznee, his
club, which hangs over it, and you will bring away the gates of his
tomb, which are the gates of the Temple of Somnauth.” So, on the 8th
of September, under Sanders’s superintendence, the gates of Mahmoud’s
tomb were carried off, as tenderly as they could perform the duty,
by a party of English soldiers. The Moollahs wept bitterly. But the
shrine was not otherwise profaned; and the excitement which the
spoliation created scarcely extended beyond the holy circle of the
priesthood.[301]
Onward went Nott with his trophies. On the 12th he was before
Sydeabad, where Woodburn and his men had been decoyed and massacred.
This fort was at once destroyed; and another was fired by the
camp-followers.[302] On the following day the enemy crowned the hills
on both flanks; but not until the 14th did they appear in sufficient
numbers, or assume such an attitude, as to bring on a collision with
our advancing troops. On that day, near Mydan, Nott attacked them on
the heights. It seemed that Shumshoodeen and Sultan Jan had determined
to make a last stand for the defence of the capital; but having
hitherto gained so little advantage by meeting us in the open country,
had resolved to try the effect of opposing us at the gorge of the hills
stretching towards Mydan. Here they had thrown up breastworks. Nott,
however, precipitated the engagement, and carried the contest to the
heights.[303] All arms were now engaged. The day was a busy one. It
was one of doubtful victory on either side. The heights were carried;
but they were not held. And when night fell upon the contending hosts,
and the moon again lit up the scene, it seemed that the work was not
yet done. A busy night was looked for as the sequel of a busy day. But
suddenly the exertions of the enemy slackened. News of the defeat of
Akbar Khan at Tezeen had reached the camp of the chiefs. They seemed to
have changed their tactics, and to have moved off to Urghundeh—a place
a few miles nearer to the capital.
The position which Shumshoodeen had intended to take up, at the gorge
of the Mydan Pass, was found, when Nott advanced on the following
day, to have been abandoned. But the day was a busy one. The tribes
were up along the line of march and harassed us severely with their
jezails. The breaking down of one of our guns crippled our movements
and gave some temporary advantage to the enemy. All arms of our force
distinguished themselves. The practice of the guns was excellent.
The infantry clomb the heights with their wonted gallantry; and the
cavalry did good service. The result was all that could be wished, and
to the Afghans the day was a disastrous one. The Mydanees, who had
been actively engaged in the Caubul insurrection, and some of whom
had now accompanied Sultan Jan in his march to the southward, and had
been engaged, under his standard, with the British troops at Ghuznee,
now sent a deputation to the General claiming his protection. Nott
dismissed them with an indignant rebuke. Little protection was there
in store for them. The Sepoys and camp-followers began to fire their
forts, and at sunset six-and-twenty of them might have been counted
lighting up the evening sky.
The march was now nearly at an end. Passing Urghundeh on the 16th of
September—the place where, in the autumn of 1839, Dost Mahomed had
planted his guns, and determined to make a last stand against Sir John
Keane’s advancing army—Nott’s division neared Caubul. On the 17th, it
had encamped at a distance of some four or five miles from the city.
But the Jellalabad army had anticipated its arrival. Caubul was already
in possession of the British. Pollock had planted the British ensign
upon the heights of the Balla Hissar.
CHAPTER III.
[September-October: 1842.]
The Re-occupation of Caubul—Installation of Futteh Jung—The
Recovery of the Prisoners—Their Arrival in Camp—The Expedition into
the Kohistan—Destruction of the Great Bazaar—Depredations in the
City—Accession of Shahpoor—Departure of the British Army.
On the 15th of September, Pollock’s force had encamped on the Caubul
race-course. It had encountered no opposition along the line of road
from Bootkhak, and it was plain now that there was no enemy to be
encountered at the capital. Akbar Khan had fled to Ghorebund, ready,
if need be, to take flight across the Hindoo-Koosh. The other hostile
chiefs were supposed to be in the Kohistan. Everything at Caubul
betokened the panic engendered by the approach of our retributory arms.
On the day after his arrival, Pollock prepared formally to take
possession of the Balla Hissar. A detachment of horse and foot, with a
troop of horse artillery, was told off, to give effect to the ceremony.
The British flag was to be hoisted on the highest point of the citadel,
and the British guns were to roar forth a royal salute in honour of the
re-occupation of the capital of Afghanistan.
All this was done—but, on that September morning, there occurred
coincidentally with it another event much controverted and much
misunderstood. The wretched Prince Futteh Jung, who, two weeks before,
had carried his tattered clothes and his bewildered brain to General
Pollock’s camp at Gundamuck, had now returned under the General’s
protection, to start again as a candidate for the throne from which he
had been driven by the Barukzye Sirdar. It was not the policy of the
British Government openly to interfere for the establishment of any
government in Afghanistan, or to identify itself with any particular
party or Prince. But both Pollock and Macgregor were of opinion, that
so long as the British were to remain at Caubul, it would be desirable
that a government of some kind should be established, if only to enable
our armies more surely to obtain their supplies. Some sort of indirect
assistance and protection was therefore extended to the Prince. The
friendly chiefs were encouraged to give in their allegiance to him;
and he was suffered to turn to his own uses the ceremony of the
re-occupation of the Balla Hissar. He asked and obtained permission to
accompany the British detachment; because, he said, treachery was to be
apprehended, if he proceeded to the palace without the support of his
father’s allies.
And so it happened, that when the British detachment moved from its
ground towards the Balla Hissar, the Prince, attended by some of his
principal adherents, fell in at the head of the procession. A portion
of the town was traversed by the detachment on its way to the citadel.
But, although the hideous sights of the last few days were still fresh
in the memory of the troops, they resisted all temptation to violence
and outrage. Not a man was hurt, or a house injured. In orderly
procession they streamed into the citadel. The road to the point at
which the colours were to be hoisted ran by the palace gates. As a
road for the passage of artillery, indeed, it terminated there. It
was necessary that the General should halt the guns and troops in the
vicinity of the palace. There was no point beyond, to which they could
proceed. The Prince and his attendants entered the royal abode; and the
British General, with some of his principal officers, were invited to
appear at his installation. Pollock sate on a chair on the right of the
throne, and M’Caskill on the left. Then was gone through the ceremony
of appointing officers of state; and the British allies of the new
King took their departure, and went about their own work. The General
and his Staff moved forward with the British colours, and planted them
on the highest conspicuous point of the Balla Hissar. As the colours
were raised the troops presented arms, the guns broke out into a royal
salute, the band struck up the National Anthem, and three hearty cheers
went up to announce that the vindication of our national honour was
complete.
So far was the restoration of Futteh Jung to the throne of his fathers
encouraged and aided by the British General. The Prince had been
suffered to hang on to the skirts of Circumstance, and to make the
most of a favourable coincidence. But so careful was Pollock not to
encourage in the breast of the Shah-zadah and his adherents any hope
of more direct assistance from the British Government, that Macgregor
was deputed to wait on Futteh Jung after the Durbar, and to enter into
a definite explanation of our views. He was emphatically told that
he was to look for no assistance, in men, money, or arms, from the
British Government; and that therefore it behoved him to turn his own
resources to the best account.[304] He was instructed, too, that the
British authorities were unwilling to interfere in any way in the
administration, and that it was necessary that he should immediately
proceed unbiassed to the election of a minister. The choice lay between
the Nizam-ood-dowlah and Gholam Mahomed Khan, Populzye. On the evening
of the 18th a council was held, and the decision of the Prince and the
chiefs was eventually in favour of the latter.
In the mean while, Pollock’s mind was heavy with thoughts of the
probable fate of the British prisoners. They had been carried off
towards the regions of the Hindoo-Koosh, and were, perhaps, even now
on the way to hopeless slavery in Toorkistan. Immediately on his
arrival at Caubul, the General had despatched his military secretary,
Sir Richmond Shakespear, with a party of 600 Kuzzilbash Horse,[305] to
overtake the prisoners and their escort. But there was a possibility of
this party being intercepted by the enemy. It was said that Sultan Jan
was hovering about with some such mischievous intent. At all events,
it was expedient to send a strong detachment of British troops to the
support of Shakespear and his Kuzzilbashes. The service was one which
any officer might have been proud to undertake. Pollock offered the
honour of the undertaking to Nott and the Candahar division. But the
offer was not accepted.
The two divisions of the British army were on opposite sides of
Caubul. The first communication that had taken place between them was
accomplished through the agency of Major Rawlinson. He had ridden in
Afghan costume from Nott’s camp at Urghundeh, and had joined Pollock’s
division on the morning of the 16th of September, shortly after the
British colours had been planted on the Balla Hissar. On the following
day Rawlinson returned to Nott’s camp. Mayne, who had done such good
service at Jellalabad, and who was now attached to Pollock’s staff,
rode with him, attended by a party of Irregular Horse. They bore a note
from Pollock, suggesting that a brigade from the Candahar division
should be detached towards Bameean, to assist the recovery of the
prisoners. The Candahar force were pitching their camp at Char-Deh,
when Rawlinson and Mayne reached them. Nott received the letter of his
brother-general in no very genial mood. He had already made up his
mind on the subject. Twice before had the officers of his own force
suggested to General Nott that the recovery of the prisoners would be
facilitated by the despatch of a detachment from his division.[306] But
he had always answered, that he believed the recovery of the prisoners
to be a matter of indifference to Government, and that he did not
consider it expedient to divide his force.
When, therefore, the proposal came to him in a more official shape from
his brother-general—upon whom, as the senior officer, had now devolved
the command of all the troops in Afghanistan—he received it as one
on which he had no consideration to bestow, and determined at once,
within the bounds of due subordination, to decline it. It would be well
if there were nothing else to record. Unhappily, the temper of the
Candahar General was such, that the officer—one of the bravest and,
for his years, the most distinguished in Afghanistan—who presented
himself in Nott’s camp, to bring back the General’s answer, met with
a welcome which may little have surprised, however much it may have
pained, the officers of Nott’s Staff, but which, upon one accustomed,
in Sale’s and Pollock’s camps, to the courtesies due to a soldier and
a gentleman, burst like a loaded shell. Chafing under the thought of
being recommended by his superior to do what his own better judgment
suggested to him that he ought to have done unprompted, the Candahar
General poured upon Mayne and his escort all the vials of his wrath.
What he said was heard by many, and is upon record. Mayne, stung by
the insult put upon him by the veteran commander, refused to continue
in his camp, and said he would await at the outlying picket the answer
which he was commissioned to carry back to Pollock’s tent.[307]
But when Nott entered his tent, and sat down to write a reply to his
brother-general, he did not wholly forget the duties of a soldier to
his superior in rank. He stated, in emphatic language, his reasons for
protesting against the adoption of the course suggested to him; but
at the same time declared his willingness to obey the orders of his
superior officer. What these reasons were must be set forth in his own
words:
Camp, September 17th, 1842.
MY DEAR GENERAL,
I have been favoured with your note of this date, in which you express
a wish that I should detach a brigade towards Bameean; before you
decide on sending it, I would beg to state as follows:—
1st. The troops under my command have just made a long and very
difficult march of upwards of 300 miles, and they have been
continually marching about for the last six months, and most certainly
require rest for a day or two—the same with my camels and other
cattle. I lost twenty-nine camels yesterday, and expect to-day’s
report will be double that number.
2nd. I am getting short of supplies for Europeans and natives, and I
can see but little probability of getting a quantity equal to my daily
consumption at this place. I have little or no money.
3rd. I have so many sick and wounded that I fear I shall have the
greatest inconvenience and difficulty in carrying them; and should
any unnecessary operations add to their number, they must be left to
perish. If I remain here many days I shall expect to lose half my
cattle, which will render retirement very difficult.
4th. I sincerely think that sending a small detachment will and must
be followed by deep disaster. No doubt Mahomed Akbar, Shumshoodeen,
and the other chiefs, are uniting their forces, and I hourly expect
to hear that Sir R. Shakespear is added to the number of British
prisoners. In my last affair with Shumshoodeen and Sultan Jan, they
had 12,000 men; and my information is that two days ago they set out
for Bameean.
5th. After much experience in this country, my opinion is that, if the
system of sending out detachments should be adopted, disaster and ruin
will follow.
6th. After bringing to your notice, showing that my men require rest
for a day or two, that my camels are dying fast, and that my supplies
are nearly expended, should you order my force to be divided, I
have nothing to do but implicitly to obey your orders; but, my dear
General, I feel assured you will excuse me when I most respectfully
venture to protest against it under the circumstances above noted. I
could have wished to have stated this in person to you, but I have
been so very unwell for the last two months that I am sure you will
kindly excuse me.
Yours sincerely,
WM. NOTT.[308]
On the following day, Nott having excused himself on the plea of
ill health from visiting Pollock in his camp, Pollock, waiving the
distinction of his superior rank, called upon his brother-general.
The conversation which ensued related mainly to the question of
the despatch of the brigade in aid of the recovery of the British
prisoners. Nott had made up his mind on the subject. He was not to
be moved from his first position. There were few besides himself who
considered the arguments which he advanced to be of the overwhelming
and conclusive character which Nott himself believed them to be; and
it was, at all events, sufficiently clear, that as it was of primal
importance on such a service to lose the least possible amount of time,
it was desirable to detach a brigade from Nott’s camp, in preference
to one from Pollock’s, if only because the former was some ten miles
nearer to Bameean than the latter. Nott was inflexible. Government, he
said, “had thrown the prisoners overboard”—why then should he rescue
them? He would obey the orders of his superior officer, but only under
protest. So Pollock returned to camp, and delegated to another officer
the honourable service which Nott had emphatically declined. Sir Robert
Sale was not likely to decline it. Though his own heroic wife had not
been one of the captives, every feeling of the soldier and the man
would have responded to the appeal.
So Sale took out with him a brigade from the Jellalabad army, and
pushed on in pursuit of Shakespear and the Kuzzilbashes. But already
had the release of the prisoners been effected. They had accomplished
their own liberation. Sale met them with Shakespear and the Kuzzilbash
escort on their way to Pollock’s camp.
The story which they had to tell was this. On the afternoon of the
25th of August the prisoners,[309] who had already received a general
intimation that they were to be carried off to Bameean, but who had
still ventured to hope that some efforts might be made by the chiefs
in our interests to release them, were warned by Captain Troup, who
had just returned from an interview with the Sirdar, to prepare for the
journey towards the Hindoo-Koosh. Soon after sunset a guard of three
hundred men arrived to escort them. Their ponies, camels, and litters
were brought, and an hour or two before midnight they started upon
their dreary journey.
They were not suffered to sleep that night, nor the next; but were
painfully hurried on towards the inhospitable regions of the Indian
Caucasus. All the forts and villages by which they passed poured
forth their inhabitants to stare, with wondering curiosity, at the
Feringhee captives.[310] But none insulted them in their misfortunes.
Often, indeed, by the rude inhabitants of the country through which
they passed, were many looks, and words, and deeds of kindness freely
bestowed upon them. Onwards still, in upward direction, they went,
thousands of feet above the level of the sea. The days were painfully
sultry, and the nights were bitterly cold. The alternations of climate
told fearfully upon the constitutions of the European prisoners; and
their sick increased in numbers. The soldiers and camp-followers, for
whom no carriage was provided, dragged their infirm limbs wearily
over the barren wastes and up the steep ascents of the Hindoo-Koosh,
the officers giving up their horses to the ladies, for whom the camel
panniers were no longer secure, toiled wearily after them up the rugged
slopes.
On the 3rd of September they reached Bameean. Conducted to one wretched
fort and then to another, they remonstrated against the noisome
quarters to which it was proposed to consign them; and twice their
importunities prevailed. But at last, on the 9th of September, the
commandant of their escort ordered them to take up their abode in
another fort, scarcely less wretched than the others, and portioned out
among them some small and comfortless apartments, so dark that they
could scarcely see in them, and so filthy that they could write their
names in the soot that covered the roof. But their residence in this
place was but brief. They soon effected their escape.
The commander of the escort was one Saleh Mahomed. A soldier of
fortune, who had visited many countries and served under many masters,
he had been at one time a soubahdar in Captain Hopkins’s regiment of
infantry, and had deserted with his men to Dost Mahomed on the eve of
the contest at Bameean. A good-humoured, loquacious, boasting man, he
was never happier than when narrating his adventures to the English
officers under his charge. Among them there was not one who better
understood the Afghan character, or who had made more friends in the
country, than Captain Johnson; and now, in a short time, between him
and Saleh Mahomed an intimacy was established, which the former began
to turn to the best account.[311] He rode with the commandant, listened
to his stories; and soon began to throw out hints that a lakh of
rupees and a pension in Hindostan might be found for him, if, instead
of carrying off his prisoners to Bameean, he would conduct them in
safety to the British camp. To Pottinger, who had hitherto been the
chief negotiator on the part of the captives, Johnson would now have
confided the delicate duty of inducing the deserter again to desert;
but the task was declined, on the plea that the attempt was more likely
to succeed in the hands of the latter, who seemed to have inspired
a feeling of friendship in the breast of the commandant. Pottinger
disliked the man; and the man seemed to dislike him. So Johnson began,
with admirable tact and address, to work upon the cupidity of his
friend.
On the 29th of August, the suggestion was put forth, in a light and
jesting manner; and not until he had convinced himself that there would
be no danger in a more direct proposition, did Johnson suffer Saleh
Mahomed to feel that he was thoroughly in earnest. The Afghan was in
no hurry to commit himself. Days passed. The party reached Bameean;
and no allusion was made to the subject; till one day—the 11th of
September—Saleh Mahomed sent for Johnson, Pottinger, and Lawrence,
and in a private room of the fort, which had been appropriated to Lady
Sale, produced a letter which he had just received from Akbar Khan.
The Sirdar had instructed him to convey the prisoners to Kooloom, and
to make them all over to the Wullee of that place. It seemed then that
they were about to end their days in hopeless captivity among the
Oosbegs. But the despair which fell upon them was but short-lived.
Saleh Mahomed soon dispersed their fears by saying that one Syud
Moorteza Shah, a Cashmeree, who, during the Caubul insurrection, had
helped Johnson to collect grain from the villages, had arrived from
Caubul, and brought a message from Mohun Lai to the effect, that if
he would release the prisoners, General Pollock would ensure him a
life-pension of 1000 rupees a month, and make him a present of 20,000
rupees. “I know nothing of General Pollock,” then said Saleh Mahomed,
“but if you three gentlemen will swear by your Saviour to make good
to me what Syud Moorteza Shah states that he is authorised to offer,
I will deliver you over to your own people.” The offer was at once
accepted. With little delay an agreement was written out in Persian by
Syud Moorteeza Shah, and signed by Johnson, Pottinger, Lawrence, and
Mackenzie.[312] It was a perilous game—for Saleh Mahomed had twice
played the traitor before, and might assume the same character again.
But the prize was too great and too tempting for them to hesitate even
to risk their lives; so they flung themselves without hesitation into
the hazardous plot.
Cheerfully did the prisoners now bind themselves to provide from
their own resources, all according to their means, the money that
was required to carry out the grand object of their liberation.
The signatures of all the officers and ladies were obtained to the
bond.[313] Saleh Mahomed proved to be staunch and true. The conspiracy
was wholly successful; and the conspirators soon grew bold in their
success. The rebellion of Saleh Mahomed and his European allies
was openly proclaimed to all the chiefs and people of Bameean and
the surrounding country. A flag was hoisted on the fort which they
occupied. They deposed the governor of the place, and appointed a
more friendly chief in his stead. They levied contributions upon a
party of Lohanee merchants, who were passing that way; and so supplied
themselves with funds. And, to crown all, Major Pottinger began to
issue proclamations, calling upon all the neighbouring chiefs to come
in and make their salaam; he granted remissions of revenue; and all the
decent clothes in the possession of the party were collected to bestow
as _Khelats_.
But, in spite of the boldness of their outward bearing at this time,
they were not without some apprehensions that their dominion might
soon be broken down, and the lords of to-day reduced again to captives
and slaves to-morrow. Some of the confederate chiefs might ere long
appear at Bameean and overwhelm the rebellion of Saleh Mahomed. So the
new rulers began to strengthen their position, and make preparations
to stand a siege. They had promised their guards—in all some 250
men—four months’ pay, as a gratuity, on reaching Caubul; and there
was every reason to rely on their fidelity.[314] Commanded by
European officers, it was believed that they would make a good show
of resistance. So Pottinger and his companions began to clear out
the loopholes of the forts—to dig wells—to lay in provisions—and
otherwise to provide against the probability of a siege. They were
busily employed in this manner on the 15th of September, when a
horseman was observed approaching from the Caubul side of the valley.
Eager for intelligence from the capital, they left their work and
gathered round him. He brought glad tidings. Akbar Khan had been
defeated by General Pollock at Tezeen, and had fled no one knew
whither. The aspect of affairs was now changed, indeed. The common
voice of the prisoners—prisoners no longer—declared in favour of
an immediate return to Caubul. It was decided that, on the following
morning, they should set out for Pollock’s camp.
At eight o’clock on the morning of the 16th they started on their
journey. Sleeping that night, in the clear moonlight, on hard stony
beds, they were awakened by the arrival of a friendly chief who brought
a letter from Sir Richmond Shakespear, stating that he was on his way
to Bameean, with a party of 600 Kuzzilbash horse. This was cheering
intelligence. At daybreak they were again astir, pushing on with
increased rapidity, in a whirl of excitement, unconscious of hunger or
fatigue. Their trials were now nearly at an end. They had heart enough
to do and to suffer anything.
About three hours after noon on the 17th of September, a cloud of
dust was observed to rise from the summit of a mountain-pass in their
front. Presently a few straggling horsemen made their appearance,
and, in a little time, the English officers could plainly see a body
of cavalry winding down the pass. Great now was the excitement in our
little party. The horsemen who were now approaching might be Shakespear
and the Kuzzilbashes, or they might be a body of the enemy. It was
well at least to prepare for their reception. Saleh Mahomed’s drums
were beaten; all stragglers were called in; every man stood to his
arms; a line was formed;[315] the muskets were loaded; and Saleh
Mahomed seemed all eagerness to give the enemy a warm reception. But
there was no enemy to be defeated. An English officer soon appeared
galloping a-head of the horsemen. Shakespear had arrived with his
Kuzzilbashes. He was soon in the midst of the prisoners, offering them
his congratulations, receiving their thanks, and endeavouring to answer
their thick-coming questions.
At daybreak on the following morning they pushed on again. Some better
horses had been obtained from the Kuzzilbashes; and now they moved
forward with increasing rapidity. On the 20th, as two or three of the
officers riding on a-head of the party were nearing Urghundeh, which
was to be their halting-place, another cloud of dust was observed
rising over the hills; and soon the welcome tidings reached them that
a large body of British cavalry and infantry was approaching. This was
the column which Pollock had sent out in support of the Kuzzilbash
Horse—the column that Sale commanded. In a little time the happy
veteran had embraced his wife and daughter; and the men of the 13th
had offered their delighted congratulations to the loved ones of their
old commander. A royal salute was fired. The prisoners were safe in
Sale’s camp. Their anxieties were at an end. The good Providence that
had so long watched over the prisoner and the captive now crowned its
mercies by delivering them into the hands of their friends. Dressed
as they were in Afghan costume, their faces bronzed by much exposure,
and rugged with beards and moustachios of many months’ growth, it was
not easy to recognise the liberated officers who now pushed forward
to receive the congratulations of their friends. On that day they
skirted the ground on which the Candahar force was posted, and out
went officers, and soldiers, and camp-followers, eager and curious, to
gaze at the released captives, and half-inclined to fall upon their
guards.[316] On the 21st of September they passed through the city, on
their way to Pollock’s camp. They found the shops closed; the streets
deserted; and they paused, as they went along, before some melancholy
memorials of the great outbreak which, a year before, had overwhelmed
us with misery and disgrace.[317]
Great was the joy which the recovery of the prisoners diffused
throughout the camps of Pollock and Nott; and great was the joy
which it diffused throughout the provinces of India. Rightly judged
Pollock that, if he returned to Hindostan without the brave men and
tender women who had endured for so many months the pains and perils
of captivity in a barbarous country, his countrymen would regard the
victory as incomplete. Let him fight what battles, destroy what forts,
and carry off what trophies he might, he would, without the liberation
of the prisoners, be only half-a-conqueror after all. Pollock knew
that his countrymen had not “thrown the prisoners overboard.” He
had rescued them now from the hands of the enemy; that object of the
war was obtained. There was little else, indeed, now to be done,
except to fix upon Caubul some lasting mark of the just retribution
of an outraged nation. It had been the declared wish of the Supreme
Government that the army should leave behind it some decisive proof of
its power, without impeaching its humanity; and now Pollock prepared to
carry, as best he could interpret them, those wishes into effect.
The interpretation, however, was not easy. Very different opinions
obtained among the leading officers in the British camp respecting
the amount of punishment which it now became the British General to
inflict upon the Afghan capital. It was a moot question, involving many
considerations, and not to be hastily solved; but there could have been
no question whether, at that time, justice and expediency did not alike
require that the inhabitants of Caubul and the neighbourhood should
be protected against unauthorised acts of depredation and violence.
Against the plunderings of soldiers and camp-followers Pollock had
steadfastly set his face; but in the neighbourhood of Nott’s camp
much was done to destroy the confidence which Pollock was anxious to
re-establish, and to alarm and irritate the chiefs whom he desired to
conciliate.[318] After a few days the new minister and Khan Shereen
Khan, the chief of the Kuzzilbashes, determined to represent to
Pollock, in a joint letter, the grievances of which they thought they
were entitled to complain.[319]
The minister had been anxious to pay his respects to the gallant
commander of the Candahar division, and had waited upon him with a
letter from Macgregor; but Nott had peremptorily refused to give him
an audience. He believed it to be the desire of Lord Ellenborough that
no Afghan Government should be recognised by the British authorities,
and he was unwilling to favour any such recognition by receiving visits
of ceremony from the functionaries appointed by the government which
had been established at Caubul. As Pollock had not been equally nice
upon this point, the refusal of his brother-general to extend his
courtesies to the minister could only have embarrassed our supreme
authorities at Caubul, and attached suspicion to the sincerity of our
proceedings. But Nott, at this time, was in no mood of mind to extend
his courtesies either to Afghan or to British authorities. It was his
belief that even then the British army ought to have been on its way
to Jellalabad. He had with him a sufficiency of supplies to carry him
to the latter place; and was irritated at the thought that Pollock had
come up to Caubul without provisions to carry him back.[320] If he had
been in supreme authority at Caubul, he would have destroyed the Balla
Hissar and the city, and would have marched on with the least possible
delay to Jellalabad. He placed his sentiments on record regarding the
impolicy of the halt at Caubul—declared that he would be compelled
to make military requisitions to rescue his troops from starvation;
and denounced Futteh Jung and the new ministers as the enemies of the
British. Nothing, indeed, could dissuade Nott that every Afghan in the
country was not our bitter foe.
Pollock, however, was inclined to discriminate—to protect our friends
and to punish our enemies. Whilst supplies were coming in but slowly
to his camp, it seemed good to him that another blow should be struck
at the hostile chiefs. It was reported to him that Ameen-oollah Khan
was in the field at Istaliff, in the Kohistan, endeavouring to bring
together the scattered fragments of the broken Barukzye force. It was
believed to be the design of the chief to attack the British on their
retirement from Caubul; and it was expedient, therefore, at once to
break up his force, and to leave some mark of our just resentment on a
part of the country which had poured forth so many of the insurgents
who had risen against us in the preceding winter. A force taken from
the two divisions of the British army was therefore despatched, under
General M’Caskill, to Istaliff, to scatter the enemy there collected,
and to destroy the place. It was thought, moreover, that Ameen-oollah
Khan, dreading the advance of the retributory army, would endeavour to
conciliate the British General, by delivering up to him the person of
Mahomed Akbar Khan, if he could adroitly accomplish his seizure. The
Sirdar had sent his family and his property into Turkistan; and was
himself waiting the progress of events in the Ghorebund Pass, ready, it
was said, to follow his establishment across the hills, if the British
troops pushed forward to overtake him.
The hostile chiefs were all now at the last gasp—all eager to
conciliate the power that a few months before they had derided and
defied. Already had Ameen-oollah Khan begun to make overtures to the
British authorities—to declare that he had always at heart been their
friend; but that he had been compelled to secure his own safety by
siding with the Barukzyes. And now Akbar Khan with the same object,
sent into Pollock’s camp a peace-offering, in the shape of the last
remaining prisoner in his hands. Captain Bygrave was now restored to
his friends. It might have been a feeling of generosity—for generous
impulses sometimes welled up in the breast of the Sirdar; it might
have been a mere stroke of policy, having reference solely to his own
interests; or it might, and it probably was, a mixture of the two
influences that prevailed upon him; but he would not any longer make
war upon a single man, and upon one, too, whom he personally respected
and esteemed with the respect and esteem due to a man of such fine
qualities as Bygrave. So he sent the last remaining prisoner safely
into Pollock’s camp; and with him he sent a letter of conciliation,
and an agent commissioned to treat for him. He was eager to enter into
negotiations with the British. It was little likely that so weak a
Prince as Futteh Jung would be able to maintain his regal authority in
Afghanistan a day after the departure of the British; and it appeared
to him not wholly improbable that, wishing to leave behind them a
friendly power in Afghanistan, the British authorities might be induced
to enter into a convention with him before their final departure from
the country.
Even now was Futteh Jung himself beginning to acknowledge his utter
inability to maintain himself in the Balla Hissar after the striking of
Pollock’s camp. Pollock had refused to supply him with troops, money,
or arms; and the Prince himself had closed the door of reconciliation
with his old Barukzye enemies by destroying their houses and property.
Among the houses thus destroyed, it is deplorable to state, was the
house of Mahomed Zemaun Khan—the very house in which the good old
man, with real parental kindness, had so long and so faithfully
protected the British hostages. The houses of Oosman Khan, Jubbar
Khan, and others fell also. It was the policy of the Prince thus to
compromise his supporters, and to prevent an alliance between them and
the Barukzye party; but having done this, he felt that it was only
by destroying the hostile chiefs that he could, in any way, maintain
his position. He watched, therefore, with anxiety the issue of the
expedition into the Kohistan, and deferred his ultimate decision until
the return of M’Caskill’s force.
Aided by and relying on the wise counsels of Havelock, M’Caskill made
a rapid march upon Istaliff, and took the enemy by surprise. The town
is built, terrace above terrace, upon two ridges of the spur of the
Hindoo-Koosh, which forms the western boundary of the beautiful valley
of Kohistan. It was held in high repute as a maiden fortress by the
Afghans, who had now collected, in its fortified streets and squares,
their treasure and their women. Looking to it as to a place of refuge,
secure from the assaults of the invading Feringhees, they had scarcely
made any military dispositions. M’Caskill’s first intention had been
to attack the left face of the city; but the intelligence brought in
by a reconnoitering party, on the evening of his arrival, caused him
to change his plan of operations, and to conduct the assault on the
right. Soon after daybreak, therefore, on the following morning (the
29th of September), the camp was in motion towards the right of the
city. The enemy soon marked the movement; and, believing that our
columns were in retreat, poured in a sharp fire upon them. Growing
more and more audacious in this belief, the foremost Afghans pressed
closely upon our covering party, which, composed of Broadfoot’s sappers
under their intrepid chief, soon found themselves in fierce collision
with a large body of the enemy posted in a walled garden. There was a
sturdy hand-to-hand conflict. The little band of sappers pushed on,
and the Afghans retreated before them up the slopes in the direction
of the city, where they would have been overwhelmed. But the time had
now come for operations on a larger scale. Havelock and Mayne, who
had observed the dangerous position of the sappers, galloped to the
General, and urged the necessity of supporting Broadfoot. M’Caskill,
who had made his arrangements for the assault, now ordered the columns
to advance upon the city. Her Majesty’s 9th Foot and the 26th Native
Infantry, who had done such good service before, delighted to receive
the word to advance to the support of the sappers, tore across the
intervening space, in generous emulation, and rushed cheerily to the
encounter; whilst on the other side of the enemy’s position, the
light companies of Her Majesty’s 41st, and the 42nd and 43rd Sepoy
regiments of Bengal, stormed, with steady gallantry, the village and
vineyard to the left. The Afghan marksmen gave way before our attacking
columns; and as our men pursued them up the slopes, a great panic
seized the people. They thought no longer of defence. Their first
care was to save their property and their women. Ameen-oollah Khan
himself fled at the first onset. As our troops entered the town, the
face of the mountain beyond was covered with laden baggage-cattle,
whilst long lines of white-veiled women, striving to reach a place of
safety, streamed along the hill-side. The forbearance of our people
was equal to their gallantry. M’Caskill, respecting the honour of
the women, would not suffer a pursuit; but many fell into the hands
of our soldiers in the town, and were safely delivered over to the
keeping of the Kuzzilbashes.[321] Two guns and much booty were taken;
the town was partially fired; and then M’Caskill went on towards the
hills, meeting no opposition on the way, destroyed Charekur, where the
Goorkha regiment had been annihilated, and some other fortified places
which had been among the strongholds of the enemy; and then returned
triumphantly to Caubul.
On the 7th of October, M’Caskill’s force rejoined the British camp.
It was now necessary that immediate measures should be adopted for
the withdrawal of the British troops from the capital of Afghanistan.
Already had Pollock exceeded, but with a wise discretion, the time
which the Supreme Government would have accorded to him. But there
was yet work to be done. No lasting mark of our retributory visit to
Caubul had yet been left upon the accursed city. Pollock had been
unable to shape his measures before, for the nature of the retribution
to be inflicted was dependent upon the constitution of the new Afghan
Government; and it was long uncertain what government the British
General would leave behind him. Futteh Jung had been for some time
trembling at the thought of the prospect before him. If M’Caskill had
brought back Akbar Khan a prisoner, or had sent his head to the British
camp, the new King might have summoned resolution to maintain his seat
on the throne. But he could never forget the treatment he had received
from the Sirdar, or nerve himself again to meet the unscrupulous
Barukzye.[322] So now he peremptorily declined to wear the crown which
we would fain have kept a little longer on his head; and implored the
British General to afford him the protection of his camp, and convey
him to the provinces of India.
Willing to spare the city and the Balla Hissar for the sake of
a friendly government, Pollock had despatched Shakespear to the
Kuzzilbash camp, which was then in the Kohistan, to take counsel with
Khan Shereen Khan, and the other chiefs of the Persian party. It
seems that they had been sceptical of the intentions of the British
General to evacuate the country; but Shakespear now announced that the
departure of the army was at hand, and that it was necessary finally to
determine upon the nature of the new government. In this conjuncture,
the Kuzzilbashes, trembling for the safety of the city, and feeling
that there was little hope of their being reconciled to the Barukzye
party, laid their hands upon another puppet. There was a younger scion
of the Suddozye House then at Caubul—the Prince Shahpoor. His mother
was a high-born Populzye lady, and it was believed that his recognition
would tend to conciliate the Douranees. Postponing, however, the final
enunciation of their views until their return to Caubul, they now
proposed that the young Prince should be set up in the place of his
brother. At Caubul, a general meeting of the chiefs was held. The voice
of the assembly declared in favour of the elevation of Shahpoor. The
Prince himself, a high-spirited boy, willingly accepted the crown that
was offered to him, and a declaration to that effect, from the Wuzeer
and the Kuzzilbash chief, was then sent in to Pollock’s camp.
Determined to make a last effort to obtain substantial assistance
from the British authorities, the chiefs now waited upon Pollock, and
entreated him to leave some British troops behind him for the support
of the new monarch. Pollock resolutely refused the request. They then
asked him for money. This he also refused. Then came before them the
painful subject of the “mark” that was to be left on Caubul. The chiefs
pleaded for the city and for the Balla Hissar. Urgently they now set
forth the necessity of a Suddozye Prince maintaining the appearance of
royalty in the palace of his fathers—urgently they now set forth that
the Arabs and Hindostanees, who in the hour of extremest peril had
been so faithful to Futteh Jung, were all located in the Balla Hissar;
and that the blow would fall with the greatest severity on those who
were least deserving of punishment.[323] So Pollock consented to spare
the Balla Hissar.
But it was still necessary that some mark of the retributory visit of
the British should be left upon the offending city. Pollock, therefore,
determined to destroy the great Bazaar. There the mutilated remains
of the murdered Envoy had been exhibited to the insolent gaze of the
Afghans; and there it was deemed fit that the retributory blow should
fall. So, on the 9th of October, Abbott, the chief engineer, received
instructions from the General to destroy the Bazaar; but so anxious
was Pollock not to extend the work of destruction, that he strictly
enjoined the engineer to abstain from applying fire to the building,
and even from the employment of gunpowder, that other parts of the city
might not be damaged by his operations. At the same time, a strong
detachment of British troops, under Colonel Richmond—one of the
best and ablest officers of the force—was sent with the engineers,
to protect the town from injury and the inhabitants from plunder and
outrage.
But it was no easy task to destroy that great Bazaar simply by the work
of men’s hands. Abbott did his best to obey the instructions he had
received from the General; but he was baffled by the massiveness of the
buildings on which he had been sent to operate. It was necessary to
employ a more powerful agent. On his own responsibility, therefore, he
betook himself to the use of gunpowder. But the explosions damaged no
other buildings than those which had authoritatively been marked for
destruction. The operations against the great Bazaar lasted throughout
the 9th and 10th of October. Every effort was made to save the city
from further destruction; but all Richmond’s protective measures
were insufficient to control the impetuosity of the soldiers and
camp-followers who poured themselves into the town.
That many excesses were then committed is not to be denied. The
principal gates of the city were guarded; but there were many other
points of ingress, and our people streamed into the streets of
Caubul, applied the firebrand to the houses, and pillaged the shops.
Guilty and innocent alike fell under the heavy hand of the lawless
retribution which was now to descend upon the inhabitants of Caubul.
Many unoffending Hindoos, who, lulled into a sense of delusive security
by the outward re-establishment of a government, had returned to the
city and re-opened their shops, were now disastrously ruined.[324]
In the mad excitement of the hour, friend and foe were stricken down
by the same unsparing hand. Even the _Chundarwal_—where dwelt the
friendly Kuzzilbashes—narrowly escaped destruction. Such excesses
as were committed during the three last days of our occupation of
Caubul must ever be deplored, as all human weakness and wickedness
are to be deplored. But when we consider the amount of temptation
and provocation—when we remember that the comrades of our soldiers
and the brethren of our camp-followers had been foully butchered by
thousands in the passes of Afghanistan; that everywhere tokens of our
humiliation, and of the treachery and cruelty of the enemy, rose up
before our people, stinging them past all endurance, and exasperating
them beyond all control, we wonder less, that when the guilty city lay
at their feet, they should not wholly have reined in their passions,
than that, in such an hour, they should have given them so little head.
It was now time that the British army should depart. Nothing remained
to be done. Any longer continuance at Caubul would only have aggravated
the sufferings of the people and increased our own difficulties. So,
on the 11th of October, orders were issued for the commencement of
the march on the following day. The unhappy Prince, Futteh Jung, had
claimed and sought permission to accompany Pollock’s camp to India,
and to seek an asylum in the Company’s dominions. The old blind King,
Zemaun Shah, after all the vicissitudes of his eventful life, was
now about again to become an exile, and to end his days in the same
hospitable country. For the family of Shah Soojah protection also
had been sought, and not refused; and now all these fragments of the
great wreck of royalty—these miserable records of a most disastrous
enterprise—were committed to the charge of one who had largely
participated in its sufferings, but had happily escaped the ruin which
had overwhelmed his comrades and his chief.[325] On the evening of
the 11th of October they came out of the town, and found safety in
Pollock’s hospitable camp.[326] The British colours, which had floated
over the Balla Hissar, were now lowered; the regiment which had been
posted there was withdrawn; and every preparation was made for the
departure of the British army.
On the following morning the two divisions commenced their march.
Fearful that the Candahar division, if left in occupation of its
old ground, whilst the head-quarters of the army were proceeding
in advance, would commit many unauthorised excesses, Pollock had
determined that the whole force should move on the same day. There
was some inconvenience in this, for Nott’s division came up before
Pollock’s had crossed the Loghur river; but to the cause of humanity
it was, doubtless, great gain. The unfortunate Hindoos, who had been
rendered destitute by the destruction of Ghuznee and the spoliation of
Caubul, had crowded into the British camps, hoping to obtain, in their
utter misery, safe conduct to the provinces of India.[327] Pollock
took with him what trophies he could, but he had not carriage for all
the guns,[328] and even on the first day’s march he was compelled to
begin their destruction; whilst Nott, rejoicing in a letter from the
Governor-General, who was in ecstasies about the gates of Somnauth, and
in the notification of his appointment to the Residency of Lucknow,
went off with those venerable relics, and turned his face towards the
country, from which they had been traditionally ravished.
And on that day, as Pollock was leaving Caubul, and Nott was striking
his camp, the guns of the Balla Hissar roared forth a royal salute in
honour of the accession of Prince Shahpoor—the _Fatiha_ was read in
his name, and the chiefs tendered their allegiance. It was, perhaps, a
mere mockery; but it had saved the Balla Hissar.[329] So the new King
was paraded about the streets of Caubul—only to be dethroned again
before the British army had reached the provinces of India; and that
army turned its back upon Afghanistan, not as of old, in the agony of
humiliation and defeat, but in the flush of victory and triumph.
CHAPTER IV.
[October-December: 1842.]
Effect of the victories—Lord Ellenborough at Simlah—The Manifesto
of 1842—The Proclamation of the Gates—The Restoration of Dost
Mahomed—The Gathering at Ferozepore—Reception of the Troops—The
Courts-Martial.
Never was intelligence received in India with stronger and more
universal feelings of delight than the intelligence of the victories of
Pollock and Nott; and the happy recovery of the prisoners. There was
one general shout of triumphant congratulation, caught up from station
to station along the whole line of country from Sirhind to Tinnevelly.
Suspense and anxiety now died away in the European breast; and, in the
words of one of the ablest Indian statesmen, “it was a comfort again to
be able to look a native in the face.”[330]
To Lord Ellenborough the brilliant achievements of the two Generals
were a source of unbounded gratification. Everything that he could have
desired had been accomplished. Pollock and Nott, under his orders,
had “retired” so adroitly from Afghanistan, that everybody believed
they had advanced upon the capital of the country. The movement had
produced, or was producing, a grand moral effect all over Hindostan.
Again was there likely to be a season of universal repose. The
excitement which had stirred the hearts of the native community was now
passing away. All those vague hopes and longings which had sprung up,
at the contemplation of our disasters, in Native States of doubtful
friendliness and fidelity, were now stifled by the knowledge of our
success. The Governor-General had threatened to save India in spite
of every man in it who ought to give him support;[331] but it now
seemed as though, in reality, Pollock and Nott had achieved the work of
salvation in spite of the Governor-General himself.
But Lord Ellenborough was not less delighted than if the work had
been emphatically his own. He was at Simlah when the glad tidings of
the re-occupation of Caubul reached him. He was at Simlah, and in the
very house which had been the cradle of the great manifesto of 1838,
out of which had come all our disasters. He was at Simlah; and the
1st of October was temptingly at hand. On the 1st of October, four
years before, that manifesto had been issued. From Simlah, therefore,
now, on the first of October, another manifesto was to be made to
issue. The utter failure of Lord Auckland’s policy in Afghanistan was
to be proclaimed from the very room in which it had taken shape and
consistency.[332] From this very room was to go forth to all the
chiefs and people of India a proclamation, laying bare to the very core
the gigantic errors which had been baptised in the blood of thousands,
and shrouded in contumely and disgrace.
And thus ran the proclamation:
_Secret Department, Simlah, the 1st of October, 1842._
The Government of India directed its army to pass the Indus in order
to expel from Afghanistan a chief believed to be hostile to British
interests, and to replace upon his throne a sovereign represented to
be friendly to those interests, and popular with his former subjects.
The chief believed to be hostile became a prisoner, and the sovereign
represented to be popular was replaced upon his throne; but, after
events, which brought into question his fidelity to the government by
which he was restored, he lost by the hands of an assassin the throne
he had only held amidst insurrections, and his death was preceded and
followed by still existing anarchy.
Disasters unparalleled in their extent, unless by the errors in which
they originated, and by the treachery by which they were completed,
have, in one short campaign, been avenged upon every scene of past
misfortune; and repeated victories in the field, and the capture of
the cities and citadels of Ghuznee and Caubul, have again attached the
opinion of invincibility to the British arms.
The British arms in possession of Afghanistan will now be withdrawn to
the Sutlej.
The Governor-General will leave it to the Afghans themselves to create
a government amidst the anarchy which is the consequence of their
crimes.
To force a sovereign upon a reluctant people, would be as inconsistent
with the policy as it is with the principles of the British
Government, tending to place the arms and resources of that people
at the disposal of the first invader, and to impose the burden of
supporting a sovereign, without the prospect of benefit from his
alliance.
The Governor-General will willingly recognise any government approved
by the Afghans themselves, which shall appear desirous and capable of
maintaining friendly relations with neighbouring states.
Content with the limits nature appears to have assigned to its
empire the Government of India will devote all its efforts to the
establishment and maintenance of general peace, to the protection
of the sovereigns and chiefs its allies, and to the prosperity and
happiness of its own faithful subjects.
The rivers of the Punjaub and Indus, and the mountainous passes and
the barbarous tribes of Afghanistan, will be placed between the
British army and an enemy approaching from the West, if indeed such an
enemy there can be, and no longer between the army and its supplies.
The enormous expenditure required for the support of a large force, in
a false military position, at a distance from its own frontier and its
resources, will no longer arrest every measure for the improvement of
the country and of the people.
The combined army of England and of India, superior in equipment, in
discipline, in valour, and in the officers by whom it is commanded,
to any force which can be opposed to it in Asia, will stand in
unassailable strength upon its own soil, and for ever, under the
blessing of Providence, preserve the glorious empire it has won, in
security and in honour.
The Governor-General cannot fear the misconstruction of his motives
in thus frankly announcing to surrounding states the pacific and
conservative policy of his government.
Afghanistan and China have seen at once the forces at his disposal,
and the effect with which they can be applied.
Sincerely attached to peace for the sake of the benefits it confers
upon the people, the Governor-General is resolved that peace shall be
observed, and will put forth the whole power of the British Government
to coerce the state by which it shall be infringed.
By order of the Right Honourable the Governor-General of India.
T. H. MADDOCK,
Secretary to the Government of India, with
the Governor-General.