POLITICAL COMPLICATIONS--END OF THE WAR
The preceding remarks will be sufficient to give a general idea of
the difficulties, both military and political, which had ensued on
our crossing the border. The situation was undoubtedly grave. Major
James, the commissioner, wrote, that it was a truly formidable and
dangerous combination, and that immediate action was necessary to
save the Government from a war involving us not only with all the
tribes on the border, but also in all probability with Afghanistan.
The Lieutenant-Governor of the Punjab, Sir Robert Montgomery, had
doubtless long and anxiously considered the untoward aspect of affairs;
and at length, when the telegrams arrived announcing the severe
actions just described, he looked upon the matter as so serious, that
he was actually prepared to order an immediate withdrawal of the
whole force to the plains; and in this view he was supported by some
members of the Viceroy's Council; in fact an order to that effect
was sent to the Commander-in-Chief. What Sir Hugh Rose thought of
the proposition is plain enough. In the first place he remonstrated
against the withdrawal, pointing out the danger of such a policy
and the loss of prestige which would result. In the next he ordered
large reinforcements to proceed by forced marches to the frontier,
so that the great northern road from Lahore to Peshawur was crowded
with cavalry, artillery, and infantry, all hurrying upwards. At the
beginning of December there were five-and-twenty thousand men north of
the Jhelum.
Soon after my arrival at Lahore in November, I had written to my old
friend Sir William Denison at Madras, giving him a short description
of the state of affairs.[61] On November 20 Lord Elgin died, and
Sir William, as the senior governor present in India, was summoned
by telegraph to Calcutta, and assumed temporarily the functions of
Viceroy. His reply to my letter is dated Calcutta, December 7, and is
interesting as giving his views on the situation.
It is as follows:--
'My dear Adye,--Thanks for your letter. I got the whole of the papers
relating to the business in the North-west on my way up the river,
and spent my time in reading them and making notes. It is hardly
worth while to say anything about the commencement of the affair
beyond this, that if any move was to have been made at all, the
plan proposed by Sir H. Rose was clearly that which should have been
adopted. With reference, however, to the future, I trust I have been
in time to check further evil.... I found an order had been sent to
the Commander-in-Chief, telling him that their wish was that the
force should be withdrawn, thrusting upon the Commander-in-Chief the
responsibility of deciding not only the mode of doing this, and the
time, but also that of determining whether such a move would peril our
reputation. The first step I took was to press for a modification of
the order. I pointed out that it was unfair to the Commander-in-Chief;
and that, as we had a sufficient force, it would be decidedly impolitic
to withdraw, until we had accomplished the design for which we had made
our inroad into the country. After a good deal of talk, I carried with
me the majority of the council, and it was decided to bring the Bonairs
to terms before withdrawing the troops. To leave without doing this
would almost insure another campaign in the spring, and this would be
expensive and useless. I trust that our orders may arrive in time to
prevent any hasty move to the rear.'[62]
[Illustration: GOING TO THE WAR. CROSSING THE INDUS AT ATTOCK, NOVEMBER
1863]
Many days, however, before I received Sir William's letter,
circumstances had occurred at Lahore which led to my making a long and
rapid journey of several hundred miles northwards, and joining the
force in the mountains during the remainder of the war.
On November 19 Sir Hugh spoke to me of his difficulties and of the
suggested retreat, which seemed both impolitic and unnecessary.
The letters and telegrams received from the front were, however,
necessarily somewhat short and hasty, and did not give full details
of the position; and I offered my services as a staff officer, to pay
a rapid visit to Chamberlain, hear his views, take a personal survey
of the country, and then return. The Commander-in-Chief accepted my
offer, and also selected Major Roberts,[63] who knew the people and
the language, to accompany me. He was a delightful companion. On the
evening of the 20th we left Lahore on the mail cart, placing the driver
behind, and ourselves driving each stage alternately. We galloped up
the trunk road all night, and all the next day, crossing the Ravee, the
Chenab, and the Jhelum, and were nearly done up from want of sleep,
when we fortunately drove into the camp of a battery of Horse Artillery
and obtained a few hours' rest. Before daylight we were off again,
passed through Rawul-Pindee, and in the afternoon crossed the Indus
by a bridge of boats close under the old Mogul fortress of Attock;
and at sunset on the second day our long drive of nearly 300 miles
came to an end at Nowshera, on the Cabul river, where the officers
of a battery under Captain Nairne, R.A.,[64] hospitably received us.
Until our arrival at Nowshera, we had not heard of the latest fight
at the Crag Picket, and that Chamberlain and Hope were severely
wounded. In the meantime horses had been laid out for our use across
the plains of Eusofzye; and, crossing the Cabul river, we galloped
about thirty miles, passing numerous detachments of Seiks and Pathans,
with elephants and camels, and on the evening of November 23 reached
the camp of Major Probyn,[65] in command of a native cavalry regiment
at the foot of the mountains. The weather was fine but cold, and
altogether the long journey was very enjoyable.
Sir Neville Chamberlain's force was about ten miles distant on the
heights of the Mahabun, whose ridges run up to 8,000 feet. Our
instructions were urgent, and we were very anxious to be off. Probyn,
however, whose troops were patrolling the frontier, pointed out that
the communications were uncertain, and that the road, such as it
was, was only opened occasionally by armed convoys taking up food
and munitions to the front. However, as delay was unadvisable, after
considering the matter, he said: 'You can, if you like, go up with the
"catch-em-alive-ohs."' I inquired who these interesting people were,
and his reply was that they were Afghans--in fact, the same people we
were fighting against; but he added that these were friendly and in our
pay, and would take care of us. He had them paraded for our inspection.
These 'catch-em-alive-ohs' were a rough, handsome, picturesque lot of
fellows, armed with old matchlocks, shields, and short knives, and
seemed very good-natured and friendly; so, in default of better, we
determined on accepting their escort, and away we went, accompanied by
the Reverend Mr. Cowie, afterwards Bishop of New Zealand. The mountain
was steep and rugged, and the route a mere goat path, so that our
progress was slow. After climbing for some miles, we suddenly observed
a large number of people on a high, distant ridge, but whether friends
or enemies was not so certain. The body of a native just killed was
lying in the path. At that moment a messenger ran up bringing me a
small note in pencil, and reading it hastily I made it out to be 'the
road is _now_ safe, push on as fast as you can.' This was satisfactory,
but on looking more carefully we found the message really was, 'the
road is _not_ safe, push on,' &c. This rather altered the conditions;
but fortunately the men we had observed on the heights were a party of
Goorkas, and the note was from the officer in command, who was looking
out for us, so that our journey soon came to an end, and we arrived
safely in camp.
The next morning I paid a visit to Chamberlain. We had been cadets
together many years before at Woolwich, but he left the Academy
before obtaining a commission, joining the Bengal army, and we had
never met since those early days. His wound, however, was severe and
his condition serious, so that I was unable to discuss the position
of affairs with him, as had been intended, and in a few days he was
carried down to the plains. I found a strong and unanimous feeling
amongst the officers against any withdrawal. Although the tribes were
in great force in the valley, with their standards flying, it was
evident that we only required reinforcements; and that a movement in
advance would soon scatter the brave but badly armed, undisciplined
hosts of our mountain foes. I lost no time in sending day by day,
detailed reports, sketches, and plans of the position to Sir Hugh Rose,
urging also the necessity for an early forward movement, and in reply
received an order by telegraph, to remain with the force until the
termination of the war.
The scenery all round us from our elevated camp was very varied, and
had many elements of grandeur. Looking back to the south through the
dark defiles of the pass, we could see the fertile plain of Eusofzye
stretching away to the Indus and Cabul rivers, whilst in front the
sheltered Chumla valley and the village of Umbeylah were lying beneath
us; and away in the distance to the north, high ranges of mountains,
capped by the snowy peaks of the Hindoo Koosh, closed in the horizon.
Owing to the success which had been achieved on several occasions by
the tribes in capturing our outlying breastworks--due, perhaps, in some
cases, to want of vigilance on our part--strict instructions had been
given that our pickets were to hold their ground at all hazards; and on
one occasion a soldier coming on duty was heard to say to his comrade,
'Well, Jim, what's the orders at this post?' and Jim replied, 'Why, the
orders is, you're never to leave it till you're killed, and if you see
any other man leaving it, you're to kill him.'
Our life was a very open-air kind of existence, a sort of prolonged
picnic, and we lived partly in small tents and partly in caves, always
sleeping in our clothes; our dinners such as they were, being cooked
and laid out on the rocks. The Afghans perched themselves about, and
now and then made long shots at us with their matchlocks. One old
fellow took up his position every day on an elevated spot, on the other
side of the pass, at a distance, and watched the proceedings. Our men
frequently fired at him, but apparently without effect; so at last
they gave it up, and nicknamed him 'Oh! Willie, we have missed you.'
There was another peculiarity amongst the tribes which is, perhaps,
unusual in warfare. Some of our native troops, when on isolated pickets
at night, used to pass away the dreary hours by singing some of their
national airs; and the enemy, apparently not wishing to be left out,
would cheerily join in the chorus.
[Illustration: AFGHAN FRONTIER CAMPAIGN. STORMING THE CONICAL PEAK,
DECEMBER 1863]
At the end of November General Garvock[66] arrived, taking command
of the expedition; and during the next few days considerable
reinforcements marched up from the plains, including amongst others the
7th Fusiliers, the 93rd Highlanders, and Probyn's Horse, 400 strong.
Our total force was over 8,000 men, with 16 light guns, some carried
on elephants and the rest on mules. The men of the tribes, no doubt,
were quite aware of these accessions to our strength; and although
Guzzhan Khan, from the distant province of Dher, had joined them with
6,000 followers, they hesitated to attack our position, which was now
strongly entrenched and vigilantly guarded. Early in December a small
deputation of Bonair chiefs came into camp to confer with Major James,
the commissioner, with a view to peace; and after a parley withdrew
to consult the other tribes as to the terms we offered; which were
the destruction of Mulka, and that the fanatics should no longer be
harboured and protected by the Afghans. We could hardly demand less. It
was understood that there were considerable dissensions amongst the
native chiefs, and on the afternoon of December 14 a solitary messenger
returned, stating that our proposals were rejected. It was also known
that an attack by the combined tribes was imminent on the morrow.
The moment of action had at length arrived. General Garvock,
forestalling the intentions of the enemy, assembled a force of 5,000
men, including the 7th and 101st Fusiliers, at daylight near the Crag
picket, leaving the remainder to guard the camp, and at 8 A.M. led
off his troops along the ridges to the attack. About two miles beyond
the Crag stood the small village of Laloo, and a few hundred yards in
front of it, one of the great spurs running up from the Chumla valley,
terminated in a lofty peak dominating the whole ridge. On this natural
stronghold the men of the tribes had established themselves in great
force, flying their standards, and prepared to abide the last issues
of war. The ordinary difficulties of the ascent had been increased by
numerous 'sungas' (breastworks), so that it was a formidable position
to take by assault. Our skirmishers, who had easily driven in the
outlying mountaineers, then halted about 600 yards in front of and
looking up at the conical peak, and, supported by the mountain guns,
waited for the arrival of the main body.
These mountain batteries rendered great service during the war. Their
light ordnance, carriages, and ammunition being all carried on mule
back, they are thus independent of roads, can accompany infantry over
any ground, and come into action on the most restricted space. As the
several regiments came up they sought a momentary shelter in the broken
ground, and when all was ready, General Garvock sounded the 'advance.'
At that signal 5,000 men rose from their cover, and with loud cheers
and volleys of musketry, rushed to the assault; the regiments of
Pathans, Seiks, and Goorkas vieing with the English soldiers as to
who should first reach the enemy. From behind every rock and shrub
at the foot of the peak small parties of mountaineers jumped up, and
fled as the advancing columns approached. It took but a few minutes
to cross the open ground, and then the steep ascent began, our men
having to climb from rock to rock, and their formation necessarily
becoming much broken. Foremost among the many could be distinguished
the scarlet uniforms of the 101st Fusiliers, who, led by Colonel
Salisbury, steadily swarmed up the mountain and captured the defences
in succession at the point of the bayonet, the enemy's standards
dropping as their outworks fell; whilst here and there the prostrate
figures of our men scattered about the rocks, proved that the hill-men
were striking hard to the last. Nothing, however, could withstand the
impetuosity of the assault, and ere many minutes had elapsed the
conical peak from foot to summit was in the possession of British
soldiers. I had the misfortune during the assault to fall over a large
rock, seriously injuring my right knee and tearing the ligaments,
becoming for the moment incapable of climbing; but by the help of a
mule, lent from one of the batteries, managed to reach the crest of
the mountain. Our panting troops still pushed on, captured the village
of Laloo, and the mountaineers were then driven headlong in thousands,
down the steep glades, through the pine forests to the Chumla valley,
many hundred feet below.
This was the first general defeat the enemy had experienced, and they
were not left long to recover from its effects. At daylight the next
morning our troops were again in movement; one brigade marching down
direct on Umbeylah, accompanied by Probyn's cavalry, who, however, had
to lead their horses down the precipitous slopes until they reached
the valley. In the meantime the other brigade descended from Laloo
and deployed at the foot. The tribes, although at first they seemed
inclined to make a stand, gradually fell back. The brigade from Laloo
followed them up, passed the village of Umbeylah, and approached the
hills leading to Bonair. The enemy, who had been lying concealed in the
ravines and broken ground, suddenly rushed out, sword in hand, wildly
attacked one of our Seik regiments, and for the moment even penetrated
its ranks. The Seiks, however, were rallied by their officers, and
supported by the 7th Fusiliers, and the enemy in a few minutes were
driven back with great loss. In the meantime three field guns, under
Captain Griffin, R.A., which had been brought down on elephants, got
into action and shelled the crowded heights, the tribes withdrawing out
of range. Our losses during the two days were: one officer killed,[67]
four wounded, and there were 172 casualties amongst the men. As
all tents and baggage had been left on the mountain, we bivouacked
for the night outside Umbeylah, which was set on fire. The weather
unfortunately was wet and cold, so that lying in the open wrapped up
in a blanket was not luxurious; and, to add to my discomfort, all at
once I felt what seemed to be a snake crawling about my legs. Having
with difficulty obtained a lighted match, I suddenly threw aside the
blanket, when a huge black rat darted out, but, as I found the next
morning, had eaten large holes in my only pair of trousers, so that I
presented altogether a somewhat damp and dilapidated appearance. These,
however, were but minor incidents in a very interesting campaign.
The effect of our vigorous movements on the 15th and 16th was immediate
and decisive. The men of Bajour and Dher, who had come so far and
were so eager for war, now fled to their native fastnesses. The Akoond
and his followers were no more to be seen; and the chiefs of Bonair,
relieved from the presence of overbearing allies, came into camp the
next day to discuss terms of peace. Under ordinary circumstances a
force of sufficient strength would no doubt have been sent forward
to drive away the original offenders, and to destroy their chief
village--Mulka. But the Punjab Government were anxious to limit
the scope of the expedition, and to withdraw from the mountains.
Consequently a somewhat hazardous compromise ensued; Colonel Reynell
Taylor, the commissioner, proceeding with one native regiment, about
400 strong, accompanied by an escort of the Bonairs, to burn the
distant village. Roberts and myself, being anxious to visit a part of
the country hitherto unexplored, joined the party. The first day's
march, on December 20, was along the Chumla Valley to Kooria. We saw
little of our new friends the Bonairs, but the inhabitants were civil
and met our requirements as to food; the next morning we commenced our
long and toilsome march up the mountain to Mulka; which proved to be
a large, new, well-built village of wood, where we remained for the
night. The inhabitants had all fled. The following morning the whole
place was set on fire; the hill tribes of the Mahabun, armed and in
large numbers, however, watching us at a distance. The native officers
of our regiment represented that the tribes were greatly exasperated,
and might at any moment fire off their matchlocks and make a rush at
us. However, we kept well together, and as soon as the village had
been destroyed, steadily marched back to the valley, and rejoined the
main force under General Garvock. On Christmas day the British troops
left the mountains and once more stood on the plains of Eusofzye, the
Bonairs destroying the entrenchments and breaking up the roads as we
marched away.
Thus ended the frontier war of 1863. Intended at the outset as a mere
excursion against fanatical robbers, who had long infested the border,
it speedily grew into a considerable war, the Mohammedan tribes,
under the impression that their independence was in danger, combining
against us. The campaign was interesting in its military aspect, in
giving experience of the extreme difficulty and expense of carrying out
offensive operations in a country composed of mountain ranges, devoid
of communications, and inhabited by races of men whom we may consider
half civilised, but who, at all events, possess the virtues of courage,
independence, and love of their country, and physically are as active
and handsome a people as exists anywhere. From a political point of
view the north-west frontier of India is also full of interest. After
a century of conquest, with dominions now extending 1,600 miles from
Calcutta to Peshawur, we have at length arrived at a region which seems
marked out by nature as the boundary of our Empire. The conditions of
the north-west frontier no doubt involve difficult considerations,
but it seems to me clear that, whilst guarding against incursions,
our policy towards our somewhat turbulent neighbours should be one of
forbearance and conciliation, combined in some cases with subsidies.
As Sir Charles Wood, the Secretary of State for India, wrote in 1864:
'Our true course ought to be, not to interfere in their internal
concerns, but to cultivate friendly relations with them, and to
endeavour to convince them, by our forbearance and kindly conduct, that
their wisest plan is to be on good terms with us, in order that they
may derive those advantages from intercourse with us which are sure
to follow from the interchange of commodities and mutual benefits.'
It is a policy necessarily requiring patience and somewhat slow in
its effect, but will in due time bring its reward, and indeed it has
already done so of late years. Our trans-Indus districts, which were
formerly harried by the neighbouring tribes, are now comparatively safe
and prosperous; and many Afghans who have served in our ranks have
returned to their native villages with pensions, and with a kindly
feeling and remembrance of those under whom they have served. Before
leaving this subject, it may be well to point out that there is another
and a far larger question beyond that of the immediate frontier which
must be kept steadily in view by the British Government, and that is
our relations with the ruler of Afghanistan in connection with the
advance of Russia in Central Asia. I propose, however, to defer the
consideration of those important questions until a later period, when
the Afghan war of 1878-9 brought matters to a crisis.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 61: My letter was published _in extenso_ in _Varieties of
Viceregal Life_, by Sir W. Denison. 1870.]
[Footnote 62: Sir Hugh Rose, in writing to me from Lahore on the same
date as Sir William Denison (Dec. 7), said that the Governor General
had entirely approved of his not consenting, although hard pressed, to
give up the Umbeylah Pass and retreat to the plains.]
[Footnote 63: Now General Lord Roberts, G.C.B.]
[Footnote 64: Now General Nairne, C.B., Commander-in-Chief, Bombay.]
[Footnote 65: Now General Sir Dighton Probyn, V.C.]
[Footnote 66: The late Sir John Garvock.]
[Footnote 67: The names of the officers were, Lieutenant Alexander
killed; Major Wheeler, Captain Chamberlain, Lieutenants Nott and Marsh
wounded.]