1878
The Kuram valley--Conflicting news of the enemy
--An apparently impregnable position--Spingawi route decided on
--Disposition of the force--A night attack
--Advantages of a night attack--Devotion of my orderlies
--Threatening the enemy's rear--The Peiwar Kotal
By the 15th November my column[1] (consisting of 1,345 British and
3,990 Native soldiers, with 13 guns) was concentrated at Thal, and on
the 20th--the limit of time given to the Amir--no reply having been
vouchsafed to the Viceroy's ultimatum, orders were issued to the three
columns to advance the next day.[2]
The Kuram valley, from which my force received its designation, is
about 60 miles long, and from 3 to 10 miles wide. On every side rise
high and magnificently-wooded mountains, those on the north and east
being the most lofty and precipitous, while on the north-west projects
the spur which runs down from Sika Bam, the highest peak of the Sufed
Koh range, upwards of 14,000 feet high. This spur forms the boundary
between Kuram and Afghanistan, and is crossed by the Peiwar Kotal. A
river, which varies from 100 to 500 yards in width, flows through the
valley, and the road, or, rather, track, which existed in 1878, ran
for the most part along its rocky bed. In the winter months the depth
of the water nowhere exceeded three feet, except after heavy rain, and
although the stream was rather swift, it could usually be forded
with very little risk. The valley itself had a bleak and deserted
appearance, save in the immediate vicinity of the few and
widely-scattered villages, around which were clustered fruit trees and
patches of cultivation.
For six weeks the thoughts of every one in the force had been turned
towards Kuram, consequently there was considerable excitement when at
3 a.m. on the 21st November the leading troops crossed the river into
Afghan territory and encamped eight miles from Thal. The next morning
we marched fifteen miles farther up the valley to Hazir Pir, where we
halted for one day to improve the road (in some places impracticable
for guns and transport) and to allow of the rear part of the column
closing up. As we proceeded on our way, the headmen from the different
villages came out to welcome us, and on arriving at Hazir Pir we found
a plentiful repast awaiting us spread under the shade of some trees.
Knives and forks were evidently considered unnecessary adjuncts by our
entertainers, so I unhesitatingly took my first lesson in eating roast
kid and pillaued chicken without their aid.
On the 24th we marched to the Darwazai defile, and the next day
proceeded through it to Kuram, forty-eight miles from Thal. We found
the fort evacuated by the Afghans, who had left behind one 6-pounder
gun.
Notwithstanding the proffers of assistance I had received, I could get
no reliable information as to the whereabouts of the enemy; from one
account I was led to believe that they were in full retreat, from
another that they were being strongly reinforced. So, to find out the
truth, I reconnoitred as far as the cantonment of Habib Kila, fifteen
miles ahead, and there ascertained that the Afghan army, consisting
(it was said) of 18,000 men and eleven guns, had left the place only
a short time before, and was then moving into position on the Peiwar
Kotal.
Depot hospitals were formed at Kuram, and all our surplus stores and
baggage were left there with the following garrison: Two guns of F/A,
Royal Horse Artillery, half of G/3, R.A., the squadron 10th Hussars,
one squadron 12th Bengal Cavalry, and the company of Bengal Sappers
and Miners, besides all the sick and weakly men of the column.
At 5 a.m. on the 28th the remainder of the force, with the exception
of the troops who had been dropped at the several halting-places to
keep open our line of communication, marched towards the Peiwar.
The stars were still shining when we started, but it was very dark,
and we were chilled to the bone by a breeze blowing straight off the
snows of the Sufed Koh; towards sunrise it died away, and was followed
by oppressive heat and clouds of dust. Our progress was slow, for the
banks of the numerous nullas which intersect the valleys had to be
ramped before the guns and baggage could pass over them.
On reaching Habib Kila, intelligence was again brought that the Amir's
troops were in disorderly retreat, and had abandoned their guns at the
foot of the pass. I at once pushed a reconnaissance in force up the
south-eastern slopes of the mountain under the command of Colonel
Gordon,[3] of the 29th Punjab Infantry, who discovered that, so far
from the enemy having abandoned their guns, they had taken up an
extremely strong position on the pass, from which they fired on the
reconnaissance party as it advanced, wounding one British, one Native
officer[4] and nine men.
As the Afghans seemed inclined to press Gordon, two guns were brought
into action, and, to cover his retirement, I sent out the 5th Gurkhas,
under Lieutenant-Colonel Fitz-Hugh, who skilfully effected this object
with the loss of only one Gurkha wounded.
Gordon brought me back the valuable piece of information that no
further advance in that direction was possible, save in single
file--valuable because, had I attempted a front attack, the sacrifice
of life must have been enormous, even if the attack had proved
successful, the possibility of which I still greatly doubt.
Our tents not having arrived, the force prepared to bivouac; but our
position proving untenable, from being within range of the Afghan
shells, we moved a mile to the rear. Strong piquets were posted on
the neighbouring heights, and the night passed without further
interruption.
We halted the two following days. Men and cattle were exhausted from
their fatiguing marches, and supplies had to be brought up before
we could advance further; besides, I required time to look about
me before making up my mind how the Peiwar Kotal could most
advantageously be attacked.
It was, indeed, a formidable position--a great deal more formidable
than I had expected--on the summit of a mountain rising abruptly 2,000
feet above us, and only approachable by a narrow, steep, and rugged
path, flanked on either side by precipitous spurs jutting out like
huge bastions, from which an overwhelming fire could be brought to
bear on the assailants. The mountain on the enemy's right did not look
much more promising for moving troops, and I could only hope that a
way might be found on their left by which their flank could be turned.
The country, however, in that direction was screened from view by
spurs covered with dense forests of deodar.
I confess to a feeling very nearly akin to despair when I gazed at
the apparently impregnable position towering above us, occupied, as I
could discern through my telescope, by crowds of soldiers and a large
number of guns.
My Chief Engineer, Colonel Perkins,[5] made a reconnaissance, which
only too surely confirmed Gordon's opinion; and he further ascertained
that a deep ravine lay between the ground occupied by our piquets on
the north and the kotal, so that an attack on the enemy's immediate
left seemed as hopeless as on his right, or to his front.
On the afternoon of the 29th I sent my Quartermaster-General, Major
Collett, with his assistant, Captain Carr, and a small escort, to the
top of a hill, which lay to the right rear of our camp, from which
they were able to get a fairly good view of the surrounding country.
Collett reported that, so far as he could judge, it seemed likely
that, as I had hoped, the enemy's left might be turned by a route over
what was known as the Spingawi Kotal, where it had been ascertained
that some Afghan troops were posted. This was encouraging, but before
I could finally decide on adopting this line of attack, it was
expedient to find out whether it was practicable for troops, and
whether the kotal itself was held in great strength. Accordingly,
early next morning, Collett was again despatched to make a closer
reconnaissance of the Spingawi approaches.
While all this was going on, I did everything I could think of to
prevent what was in my mind being suspected by the enemy or, indeed,
by my own troops. Each day more than once, accompanied by an imposing
number of officers and a considerable escort, I climbed the lofty spur
by which a direct attack would have to be covered, and everyone in
camp was made to believe that an attack in this direction was being
prepared for. I was particularly careful to have this idea impressed
on the Turis and the Afghan camel-drivers, by whom the enemy were
pretty sure to be informed of what was going on; and also on the
Mahomedan sepoys, whom I suspected of being half-hearted. I confided
my real plan to only three people, my two senior staff-officers,
Galbraith and Collett, and my A.D.C., Pretyman, for I knew, from the
nature of the country, that, under the most favourable circumstances,
the way must be difficult and circuitous, and its passage must occupy
several hours; and that if the Afghans got wind of the contemplated
movement, and should attack my small force while on the march and
divided, defeat if not annihilation would be inevitable, for the
surrounding tribes would be certain to join against us if once they
believed us to be in difficulties.
I had heard that the smallness of the column was being freely
commented on and discussed; indeed, people in Kuram did not care to
disguise their belief that we were hastening to our destruction. Even
the women taunted us. When they saw the little Gurkhas for the first
time, they exclaimed: 'Is it possible that these beardless boys think
they can fight Afghan warriors?' They little suspected that the brave
spirits which animated those small forms made them more than a match
for the most stalwart Afghan. There was no hiding from ourselves,
however, that the force was terribly inadequate for the work to be
done. But done it must be. A retirement was not to be thought of, and
delay would only add to our difficulties, as the Afghans were daily
being reinforced from Kabul, and we heard of still further additions
of both Artillery and Infantry being on their way.
Collett returned soon after noon on the 30th; he had done admirably
and brought me most useful information, the result of which was that
I determined to adopt the Spingawi route. The nights were long, and I
calculated that by starting at 10 p.m., and allowing for unforeseen
delays, we should reach the foot of the pass while it was still dark.
Fresh efforts were now made to distract the enemy's attention from the
real point of attack. In addition to the reconnoitring parties which
were ostentatiously moved towards the Peiwar, batteries were marked
out at points commanding the kotal, and a great display was made of
the arrival of the two Horse and three Field Artillery guns, which
I had left at Kuram till the last moment on account of scarcity of
forage at the front, and of the two squadrons of Bengal Cavalry, which
for the same reason I had sent back to Habib Kila. Even with these
additions the total strength of the force in camp, including British
officers, amounted to only 889 Europeans and 2,415 Natives, with 13
guns.
[Illustration: THE ATTACK ON THE PEIWAR KOTAL.
_From a painting by Vereker Hamilton._]
These attempts to mislead the enemy were entirely successful, for
the Afghans shelled the working parties in the batteries, and placed
additional guns in position on the south side of the pass, showing
distinctly that they were preparing for a front attack, while in our
camp also it was generally believed that this was the movement which
would be carried out the next morning.
When it became sufficiently dark to conceal our proceedings, all the
commanding and staff officers assembled in my tent, and I disclosed
to them my scheme for the attack, impressing upon them that success
depended upon our being able to surprise the enemy, and begging of
them not even to whisper the word 'Spingawi' to each other.
I had had sufficient time since I took over the command to test the
capabilities of the officers and regiments upon whom I had to depend,
so that I had now no difficulty in disposing the troops in the manner
most likely to ensure success.
For the turning movement I selected:
4 guns F/A, R.H.A.,
The wing 72nd Highlanders,
No 1 Mountain Battery (4 guns),
2nd and 29th Punjab Infantry,
5th Gurkhas,
23rd Pioneers--
Total strength 2,263 men with 8 guns;
and I determined to command the attack myself, with Brigadier-General
Thelwall as second in command.
For the feint and for the defence of our camp I left under the command
of Brigadier-General Cobbe:
2 guns F/A, R.H.A.,
3 guns G/3, R.A.,
2nd Battalion 8th Foot,[6]
12th Bengal Cavalry,
5th Punjab Infantry.
In all, a little more than 1,000 men with 5 guns.
At 10 p.m. on Sunday, the 1st December, the little column fell in,
in absolute silence, and began its hazardous march. Tents were left
standing and camp-fires burning; and so noiselessly were orders
carried out that our departure remained unsuspected even by those of
our own people who were left in camp.
The track (for there was no road) led for two miles due east, and
then, turning sharp to the north, entered a wide gorge and ran along
the bed of a mountain stream. The moonlight lit up the cliffs on the
eastern side of the ravine, but made the darkness only the more dense
in the shadow of the steep hills on the west, underneath which our
path lay, over piles of stones and heaps of glacier débris. A bitterly
cold wind rushed down the gorge, extremely trying to all, lightly clad
as we were in anticipation of the climb before us. Onward and upwards
we slowly toiled, stumbling over great boulders of rock, dropping
into old water-channels, splashing through icy streams, and halting
frequently to allow the troops in the rear to close up.
In spite of the danger incurred, I was obliged every now and then to
strike a match and look at my watch to see how the time was going. I
had calculated that, by starting as early as ten o'clock, there would
be an hour or two to spare for rest. The distance, however, proved
rather greater than was expected and the road much rougher, but these
facts were, to my mind, not sufficient to account for the slowness of
our progress, and I proceeded to the head of the column, anxious to
discover the true cause of the delay.
I had chosen the 29th Punjab Infantry to lead the way, on account of
the high reputation of Colonel John Gordon, who commanded it, and
because of the excellent character the regiment had always borne;
but on overtaking it my suspicions were excited by the unnecessarily
straggling manner in which the men were marching, and to which I
called Gordon's attention. No sooner had I done so than a shot was
fired from one of the Pathan companies, followed in a few seconds by
another. The Sikh companies of the regiment immediately closed up, and
Gordon's Sikh orderly whispered in his ear that there was treachery
amongst the Pathans.
It was a moment of intense anxiety, for it was impossible to tell how
far we were from the Spingawi Kotal, or whether the shots could be
heard by the enemy; it was equally impossible to discover by whom the
shots had been fired without delaying the advance, and this I was
loath to risk. So, grieved though I was to take any steps likely to
discredit a regiment with such admirable traditions, I decided to
change the order of the march by bringing one company of the
72nd Highlanders and the 5th Gurkhas to the front, and I warned
Lieutenant-Colonel Brownlow, in command of the 72nd, to keep a watch
over the Pathans with his three remaining companies, for I felt
that our enterprise had already been sufficiently imperilled by the
Pathans, and that hesitation would be culpable; for, unless we
could reach the kotal while our approach was still concealed by
the darkness, the turning movement would in all probability end in
disaster.
On the Gurkhas coming up, I told Major Fitz-Hugh, who commanded them,
that the moment he reached the foot of the kotal, he must front form
company, fix bayonets, and charge up the slope without waiting for
further orders.
Soon afterwards, and just as the first streak of dawn proclaimed the
approach of day, the enemy became aware of our presence, and fired
into us, when instantly I heard Fitz-Hugh give the word to charge.
Brownlow, at the head of his Highlanders, dashed forward in support,
and two guns of the Mountain battery coming up at the moment, I
ordered its Commandant, Captain Kelso, to come into action as soon as
he could find a position.
I was struck by the smile of satisfied pride and pleasure with
which he received the order. He was delighted, no doubt, that the
opportunity had arrived to prove what the battery--to perfect which he
had spared neither time nor labour--could do; but it was the last time
that gallant soldier smiled, for a few seconds later he was shot dead.
The Gurkhas, forgetting their fatigue, rapidly climbed the steep side
of the mountain, and, swarming into the first entrenchment, quickly
cleared it of the enemy; then, guided by the flashes of the Afghan
rifles, they pressed on, and, being joined by the leading company of
the 72nd, took possession of a second and larger entrenchment 200
yards higher up. Without a perceptible pause, the Highlanders and
Gurkhas together rushed a third position, the most important of all,
as it commanded the head of the pass.
The Spingawi Kotal was won; but we were surrounded by woods, which
were crowded with Afghans, some 400 of whom made a dashing but
ineffectual attempt to carry off their guns, left behind in the first
scare of our sudden attack. These men were dressed so exactly like
some of our own Native soldiers that they were not recognized until
they got within 100 yards of the entrenchment, and they would
doubtless have succeeded in accomplishing their purpose--as the
Highlanders and Gurkhas were busy pursuing the fugitives--had not
Galbraith, whom I had sent with an order to the front, hurriedly
collected a certain number of stragglers and met the Afghans with such
a murderous fire that they broke and fled, leaving seventy dead in a
space of about fifty yards square.
As the rising sun lighted up the scene of the conflict, the advantages
of a night attack became more apparent. The pass lay across the
shoulder of a mountain (9,400 feet above the sea), and through a
magnificent pine forest. Its approaches were commanded by precipitous
heights, defended by breastworks of felled trees, which completely
screened the defenders, who were quite comfortably placed in wide
ditches, from which they could fire deadly volleys without being in
the least exposed themselves. Had we not been able to surprise the
enemy before the day dawned, I doubt whether, any of us could have
reached the first entrenchment. As it was, the regiment holding it
fled in such a hurry that a sheepskin coat and from sixty to a hundred
rounds of ammunition were left behind on the spot where each man had
lain.
We had gained our object so far, but we were still a considerable
distance from the body of the Afghan army on the Peiwar Kotal.
Immediately in rear of the last of the three positions on the Spingawi
Kotal was a _murg_, or open grassy plateau, upon which I re-formed the
troops who had carried the assault. The 2nd Punjab Infantry, the 23rd
Pioneers, and the battery of Royal Horse Artillery were still behind;
but as the guns were being transported on elephants, I knew the
progress of this part of the force must be slow, and thinking it
unwise to allow the Afghans time to recover from their defeat, I
determined to push on with the troops at hand.
A field hospital was formed on the _murg_, and placed under a guard,
ammunition-pouches were re-filled, and off we started again, choosing
as our route the left of two hog-backed, thickly-wooded heights
running almost longitudinally in the direction of the Peiwar Kotal, in
the hope that from this route communication might be established with
our camp below. I was not disappointed, for very soon Captain Wynne,
in charge of the signalling, was able to inform Brigadier-General
Cobbe of our progress, and convey to him the order to co-operate with
me so far as his very limited numbers would permit.
Our advance was at first unopposed, but very slow, owing to the
density of the forest, which prevented our seeing any distance, and
made it difficult to keep the troops together.
At the end of two hours we arrived at the edge of a deep hollow, on
the further side of which, 150 yards off, the enemy were strongly
posted, and they at once opened fire upon us.
Fancy my dismay at this critical moment on discovering that the
Highlanders, Gurkhas, and the Mountain battery, had not come up! They
had evidently taken a wrong turn in the almost impenetrable forest,
and I found myself alone with the 29th Punjab Infantry. Knowing that
the missing troops could not be far off, I hoped that they would hear
the firing, which was each moment becoming heavier; but some time
passed, and there were no signs of their approach. I sent staff
officer after staff officer to search for them, until one only
remained, the Rev. J.W. Adams, who had begged to be allowed to
accompany me as Aide-de-camp for this occasion, and him I also
despatched in quest of the missing troops. After some time, which
seemed to me an age, he returned to report that no trace could he find
of them; so again I started him off in another direction. Feeling
the situation was becoming serious, and expecting that the Afghans,
encouraged by our inaction, would certainly attack us, I thought it
advisable to make a forward movement; but the attitude of the 29th
was not encouraging. I addressed them, and expressed a hope that they
would now by their behaviour wipe out the slur of disloyalty which
the firing of the signal shots had cast upon the regiment, upon which
Captain Channer,[7] who was just then in command, stepped forward, and
said he would answer for the Sikhs; but amongst the Pathans there
was an ominous silence, and Channer agreed with me that they did not
intend to fight. I therefore ordered Channer and his subaltern, Picot,
to advance cautiously down the slope with the Sikhs of the regiment,
following myself near enough to keep the party in sight. I had not
gone far, however, before I found that the enemy were much too
strongly placed to be attacked successfully by so few men; accordingly
I recalled Channer, and we returned to the position at the top of the
hill.
[Illustration: MY GURKHA ORDERLIES.
_From a water colour sketch by Colonel Woodthorpe, C.B., R.E._]
My orderlies[8] during this little episode displayed such touching
devotion that it is with feelings of the most profound admiration and
gratitude I call to mind their self-sacrificing courage. On this (as
on many other occasions) they kept close round me, determined that no
shot should reach me if they could prevent it; and on my being hit in
the hand by a spent bullet, and turning to look round in the direction
it came from, I beheld one of the Sikhs standing with his arms
stretched out trying to screen me from the enemy, which he could
easily do, for he was a grand specimen of a man, a head and shoulders
taller than myself.
To my great relief, on my return to the edge of the hollow, Adams met
me with the good tidings that he had found not only the lost troops,
but the Native Infantry of the rear portion of the column, and had
ascertained that the elephants with the guns were close at hand.
Their arrival was most opportune, for the enemy had been reinforced,
and, having discovered our numerical weakness, were becoming bolder;
they charged down the hill, and were now trying to force their way
up to our position, but our Mountain guns were quickly brought into
action, and under their cover another attempt was made to drive the
Afghans from their position. The 23rd Pioneers, under the command of
Colonel Currie, the two front companies led by Captain Anderson, moved
down the slope, and were soon lost to view in the thick wood at
the bottom of the dell; when they reappeared it was, to my great
disappointment, on the wrong side of the hollow: they had failed in
the attack, and Anderson and some men had been killed. The enemy's
position, it was found, could only be reached by a narrow causeway,
which was swept by direct and cross fires, and obstructed by trunks of
trees and a series of barricades.
It was evident to me that under these circumstances the enemy could
not be cleared out of their entrenchment by direct attack without
entailing heavy loss, which I could ill afford and was most anxious to
avoid. I therefore reconnoitred both flanks to find, if possible, a
way round the hill. On our left front was a sheer precipice; on the
right, however, I discovered, to my infinite satisfaction, that we
could not only avoid the hill which had defeated us, but could get
almost in rear of the Peiwar Kotal itself, and threaten the enemy's
retreat from that position.
At this juncture I was further cheered by the arrival of
Lieutenant-Colonel Perkins and Major McQueen, who, with the 5th Punjab
Infantry, had worked their way up the steep mountain-side, in the hope
of getting near to the Peiwar Kotal and co-operating with me. They
were, however, checked by the deep ravine I have before described,
and, guided by the sound of firing, pushed higher up the hill. They
brought me word that the Artillery left in camp had opened fire on the
kotal soon after daybreak, and had succeeded in silencing two of the
enemy's guns; that our Infantry had crept up within 1,400 yards of the
kotal, but were met by such a destructive fire that they could not
advance further; that Brigadier-General Cobbe had been severely
wounded, and that Colonel Barry Drew had assumed the command. Perkins
also gave me the useful information that he had observed on his way up
a spur from which the kotal position could be fired upon at a distance
of 1,100 yards. To this spot I ordered Lieutenant Sherries, who had
succeeded poor Kelso in command of the Mountain battery, to take his
guns, and I asked Perkins to return and tell Drew to press on to the
kotal, in the hope that Sherries's fire and the turning movement I was
about, to make would cause the enemy to retreat.
I sent the 29th Punjab Infantry back to the Spingawi to protect the
wounded. I left the 2nd Punjab Infantry in the position we had up till
now been occupying, and I took McQueen's regiment with me.
A few rounds from the Mountain battery, and the fact that their rear
was threatened and their retreat about to be cut off, soon produced
signs of wavering amongst the Afghans. Their Artillery fire slackened,
their Infantry broke, and about 2 p.m. Drew and Hugh Gough found it
possible to make a move towards the Peiwar Kotal. Gough was the first
to reach the crest, closely followed by Lieutenant Brabazon, his
orderly officer, and a fine plucky Dogra named Birbul. They were soon
joined by some hundreds of Turi levies collected by Waterfield and by
the 8th Foot. Another body of levies under Major Palmer,[9] who
had done good service by making a feint on the right of the Afghan
position, arrived about the same time. Plunder was of course the sole
object of the Turis, but their co-operation at the moment was useful,
and helped to swell our small numbers. The enemy having evacuated
their stronghold and retreated by the Alikhel road, abandoning in
their headlong flight guns, waggons, and baggage, were pursued by Hugh
Gough, whose Cavalry had by this time come up.
[Illustration: MY SIKH ORDERLIES.
_From a water colour sketch by Colonel Woodthorpe, C.B., R.E._]
The Peiwar Kotal was not visible from the route we had taken, but just
before daylight had quite gone I could make out with the aid of my
telescope a large body of Afghans moving towards the Shutargardan,
which made me feel quite satisfied that the enemy's position was in
our possession.
Night overtook us before we could reach the kotal, and as everyone was
thoroughly tired out, having been hard at work since 10 p.m. the night
before, with but little food, I thought it better to bivouac where we
were, on the southern slope of the Sika Ram mountain. It was hardly
a pleasant experience lying on the ground without even cloaks at an
elevation of 9,000 feet, and with the thermometer marking twenty
degrees of frost; but spite of cold and hunger, thoroughly content
with the day's work, and with my mind at rest, I slept as soundly as I
had ever done in the most luxurious quarters, and I think others did
the same. At any rate, no one that I could hear of suffered from that
night's exposure.
We continued our march at daybreak, and reached the kotal in an hour.
The examination of the enemy's position was very interesting. It was
of enormous natural strength, the dispositions made for its defence
were most complete and judicious, and the impossibility of taking
it by other than a turning movement was proved beyond a doubt; it
extended from the Spingawi to some commanding heights nearly a mile
south of the Peiwar Kotal; thus having a front of about four miles
facing due east. From right to left the position ran along a lofty and
rugged range of mountains, clothed with dense pine-forests. Towards
the eastern side the range was precipitous, but descended on the west
by a succession of upland meadows to the valley of the Hariab; it was
crossed by only two roads, viz., the Peiwar and Spingawi Kotals; at a
few other points there were paths, but too narrow and precipitous for
the passage of troops.
The Peiwar Kotal is a narrow depression in the ridge, commanded on
each side by high pine-clad mountains. The approach to it from the
Kuram valley was up a steep, narrow, zigzag path, commanded throughout
its entire length from the adjacent heights, and difficult to ascend
on account of the extreme roughness of the road, which was covered
with large fragments of rocks and boulders. Every point of the ascent
was exposed to fire from both guns and rifles, securely placed behind
breastworks constructed of pine-logs and stones. At the top of
the path was a narrow plateau, which was again commanded from the
thickly-wooded heights on each side, rising to an elevation of 500
feet.
The Afghan Commander had been quite confident of success, and was
only waiting for reinforcements to attack our camp; but these
reinforcements did not arrive until the afternoon of the 1st December,
just too late for him to carry out his intention. He had under his
command eight Regular regiments of the Afghan army, and eighteen
guns; while these numbers were augmented by hordes of neighbouring
tribesmen, who were only too glad to respond to the cry of a _jahad_
against the infidel, firmly believing that as true believers their
cause would be victorious.
Our loss at the Peiwar was not great--2 officers and 18 men killed,
and 3 officers and 75 men wounded. The Afghans suffered much more
severely, besides leaving in our possession all their guns, with
quantities of ammunition and other warlike stores.
[Footnote 1: The details of the column are given in the Appendix.
(Appendix III.)]
[Footnote 2: On the 30th November a subordinate officer of the Kabul
Government reached Sir Samuel Browne's camp at Daka, and delivered the
following letter from the Amir to the address of the Viceroy:
'FROM HIS HIGHNESS THE AMIR OF KABUL TO THE VICEROY OF INDIA.
'KABUL, _19th November, 1878_.
'Be it known to your Excellency that I have received, and read
from beginning to end, the friendly letter which your Excellency
has sent, in reply to the letter I despatched by Nawab Ghulam
Hussein Khan. With regard to the expressions used by your
Excellency in the beginning of your letter, referring to the
friendly character of the Mission and the goodwill of the British
Government, I leave it to your Excellency, whose wisdom and
justice are universally admitted, to decide whether any reliance
can be placed upon goodwill, if it be evidenced by words only.
But if, on the other hand, goodwill really consists of deeds and
actions, then it has not been manifested by the various wishes
that have been expressed, and the proposals that have been made by
British officials during the last few years to officials of this
God-granted Government--proposals which, from their nature, it was
impossible for them to comply with.
'One of these proposals referred to my dutiful son, the
ill-starred wretch, Mahomed Yakub Khan, and was contained in a
letter addressed by the officials of the British Government to
the British Agent then residing in Kabul. It was written in that
letter that, "if the said Yakub Khan be released and set at
liberty, our friendship with the Afghan Government will be firmly
cemented, but that otherwise it will not."
'There are several other grounds of complaint of similar nature,
which contain no evidence of goodwill, but which, on the contrary,
were effective in increasing the aversion and apprehension already
entertained by the subjects of this God-granted Government.
'With regard to my refusal to receive the British Mission, your
Excellency has stated that it would appear from my conduct that I
was actuated by feelings of direct hostility towards the British
Government.
'I assure your Excellency that, on the contrary, the officials of
this God-granted Government, in repulsing the Mission, were not
influenced by any hostile or inimical feelings towards the British
Government, nor did they intend that any insult or affront should
be offered. But they were afraid that the independence of this
Government might be affected by the arrival of the Mission,
and that the friendship which has now existed between the two
Governments for several years might be annihilated.
'A paragraph in your Excellency's letter corroborates the
statement which they have made to this Government. The feelings
of apprehension which were aroused in the minds of the people of
Afghanistan by the mere announcement of the intention of the
British Government to send a Mission to Kabul, before the
Mission itself had actually started or arrived at Peshawar, have
subsequently been fully justified by the statement in your
Excellency's letter, that I should be held responsible for any
injury that might befall the tribes who acted as guides to the
Mission, and that I should be called upon to pay compensation to
them for any loss they might have suffered; and that if, at any
time, these tribes should meet with ill-treatment at my hands, the
British Government would at once take steps to protect them.
'Had these apprehensions proved groundless, and had the object
of the Mission been really friendly, and no force or threats of
violence used, the Mission would, as a matter of course, have been
allowed a free passage, as such Missions are customary and of
frequent occurrence between allied States. I am now sincerely
stating my own feelings when I say that this Government has
maintained, and always will maintain, the former friendship which
existed between the two Governments, and cherishes no feelings of
hostility and opposition towards the British Government.
'It is also incumbent upon the officials of the British Government
that, out of respect and consideration for the greatness and
eminence of their own Government, they should not consent to
inflict any injury upon their well-disposed neighbours, and to
impose the burden of grievous troubles upon the shoulders of
their sincere friends. But, on the contrary, they should exert
themselves to maintain the friendly feelings which have hitherto
existed towards this God-granted Government, in order that the
relations between the two Governments may remain on the same
footing as before; and if, in accordance with the custom of allied
States, the British Government should desire to send a purely
friendly and temporary Mission to this country, with a small
escort, not exceeding twenty or thirty men, similar to that which
attended the Russian Mission, this servant of God will not oppose
its progress.'
It was ascertained that this messenger had come to Basawal on the
22nd November, when, hearing of the capture of Ali Masjid by British
troops, he immediately returned to Kabul. The Amir's letter, though
dated the 19th November, was believed to have been re-written at Kabul
after the news of the fall of Ali Masjid. The text of this letter was
telegraphed to the Secretary of State on the 7th December; in reply
Lord Cranbrook pointed out that the letter evaded all the requirements
specified in the Viceroy's ultimatum, and could not have been accepted
even if it had reached him before the 20th November.]
[Footnote 3: Now General J. Gordon, C.B., Assistant Military
Secretary, Horse Guards.]
[Footnote 4: The Native officer was Subadar-Major Aziz Khan, a fine
old soldier who had seen hard work with his regiment during the
Mutiny, and in many a frontier expedition. He twice obtained the Order
of Merit for bravery in the field, and for his marked gallantry on one
occasion he had received a sword of honour and a _khilat_ (a dress of
honour or other present bestowed as a mark of distinction). Aziz Khan
was shot through the knee, and after a few days the wound became so
bad the Doctors told him that, unless he submitted to amputation, or
consented to take some stimulants in the shape of wine, he would die
of mortification. Aziz Khan, who was a strict and orthodox Mahomedan,
replied that, as both remedies were contrary to the precepts of the
religion by which he had guided his life, he would accept death rather
than disobey them. He died accordingly.]
[Footnote 5: Now General Sir Æneas Perkins, K.C.B.]
[Footnote 6: The strength of this battalion had now dwindled down to
348 men.]
[Footnote 7: Now Major-General Channer, V.C., C.B.]
[Footnote 8: I had six orderlies attached to me--two Sikhs, two
Gurkhas, and two Pathans. The Sikhs and Gurkhas never left me for a
day during the two years I was in Afghanistan. The Pathans behaved
equally well, but they fell sick, and had to be changed more than
once. Whenever I emerged from my tent, two or more of the orderlies
appeared and kept close by me. They had always good information as to
what was going on, and I could generally tell whether there was likely
to be trouble or not by the number in attendance; they put themselves
on duty, and decided how many were required. One of the Gurkhas is
since dead, but the other and the two Sikhs served with me afterwards
in Burma, and all three now hold the high position of Subadar in their
respective regiments.]
[Footnote 9: Now Major-General Sir Arthur Palmer, K.C.B.]
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