GREEK EXPLORATION--ALEXANDER--THE KABUL VALLEY TO THE INDUS
Alexander passed the next winter at the city of his own founding,
Alexandreia, in the Koh Daman to the north of Kabul. And from thence
in two divisions he started for the Indus, sending the main body of
his troops by the most direct route, with Taxila (the capital of the
Upper Punjab) for its objective, and himself with lighter brigades
specially organized to subdue certain tribes on the northern flank of
the route who certainly would imperil the security of his line of
communication if left alone. This was his invariable custom, and it
was greatly owing to the completeness with which these flanking
expeditions were carried out that he was able to keep open his
connection with Greece. There have been discussions as to the route
which he followed. Hyphæstion, in command of the main body,
undoubtedly followed the main route which would take him most directly
to the plains of the Punjab, which route is sufficiently well
indicated in these days as the "Khaibar." We hear very little
about his march eastwards.
[Illustration: SKETCH MAP OF ALEXANDER'S ROUTE]
In the days preceding the use of fire-arms the march of a body of
troops through defiles such as the Khurd Kabul or the Jagdallak was
comparatively simple. So far from such defiles serving as traps
wherein to catch an enemy unawares and destroy him from the cliffs and
hills on either side, these same cliffs and hills served rather as a
protection. The mere rolling down of stones would not do much
mischief, even if they could be rolled down effectively, which is not
usually the case; and in hand-to-hand encounters the tribespeople were
no match for the armoured Greeks. Alexander's operations would
preserve his force from molestation on its northern flank, and the
rugged ridges and spread of desolate hill-slopes presented by the
Safed Koh and other ranges on the south has never afforded suitable
ground for the collection of fighting bodies of men in any great
strength. General Stewart marched his force from Kabul to Peshawur in
1880 with his southern flank similarly unprotected with the same
successful result, his movements being so timed as to give no
opportunity for a gathering of the Ghilzai clans. On the northern
flank of the Khaibar route, however, there had been large tribal
settlements from the very beginning of things, and it was most
important that these outliers should feel the weight of Alexander's
mailed fist if the road between Kabul and the Indus were ever to be
made secure. He accordingly directed his attention to a more northerly
route to India which would bring him into contact with the Aspasians,
Gauraians, and Assakenians.
We need not follow the ethnologists who identify these people with
certain tribes now existing with analogous names. There may very
possibly be remnants of them still, but they are not to be identified.
They obviously occupied the open cultivable valleys and alluvial
spaces which are interspersed amongst the mountains of the Kabul River
basin, the Kohistan and Kafiristan of modern maps. The Gauraians
certainly were the people of the Panjkora valley, and there is no
difficulty in assigning to the Aspasians the first great fertile tract
of open valley which would be encountered on the way eastwards. This
is Laghman (or Lamghan) with its noble reach of the Kabul River
meeting a snow-fed affluent, the Alingar, from the Kafir hills. There
is, indeed, no geographical alternative. Similarly with even a cursory
knowledge of the actual geographical conformation of the country, it
is impossible to imagine that Alexander would choose any other route
from Alexandreia towards Laghman than that which carries him past
Kabul. The Koh Daman (the skirts of the hills) which intervene between
Alexandreia (or Bagram) and Kabul is one of the gardens of
Afghanistan. There one may wander in the sweet springtide amidst the
curves and folds of an undulating land, neither hill nor plain, with
the scent of the flowering willow in the air, and the rankness of a
spring growth of flower and grass bordering narrow runlets and
irrigation channels; an unwinking blue above and a varied carpet
beneath, whilst the song of the labourer rises from fields and
orchards. Westward are the craggy outlines of Paghman (a noble
offshoot of the Hindu Kush hiding the loveliness of the Ghorband
valley behind it), down whose scarred and wrinkled ribs slide
waterfalls and streams to gladden the plain. Piled up on steep and
broken banks from the very foot of the mountains are scattered
white-walled villages, and it is here that you may find later in the
year the best fruit in Afghanistan.
In November a gentle haze rests in soft indecision upon the
dust-coloured landscape--heavier and bluer over the low-lying fields
from which all vegetation has been lifted, lighter and edged with
filmy skirts where it rises from the sun-warmed brow of the hills. It
is a different world from the world of spring--all utterly
sad-coloured and dust-laden; but it is then that the troops and
strings of fruit-laden donkeys take their leisurely way towards the
city, where are open shops facing the narrow shadowed streets with
golden bulwarks of fruit piled from floor to roof. A narrow band of
rugged hills shuts off this lovely plain on the east from the only
valley route which could possibly present itself to an inexperienced
eye as an outlet from the Charikar region to the Kabul River bed, ere
it is lost in the dark defiles leading to the Laghman valley. The
hills are red in the waning light, and when the snow first lays its
lacework shroud over them in network patches they are inexpressibly
beautiful. But they are also inexpressibly rough and impracticable,
and the valley beyond is but a walled-in boulder-strewn trough, which
no general in his senses would select for a military high-road.
Alexander certainly did not march that way; he went to where Kabul is,
and there, at the city of Nikaia, he made sacrifice to the goddess
Athena. If Nikaia was not the modern Kabul it must have been very near
it. Does not Nonnus tell us that it was a stone city near a lake?
There is but one lake in the Kabul valley, and it is that at Wazirabad
close to the city. It is usual to regard Nonnus as a most
untrustworthy authority, but here for once he seems to have wandered
into the straight and narrow path of truth. So far there can be no
reasonable doubt about the direction of this great Pioneer's
explorations in Afghanistan. Beyond this, once again, we prefer to
trust to the known geographical distribution of hill and valley, and
the opportunities presented by physical features of the country,
rather than to any doubtful resemblance between ancient and modern
place, or tribal, names, for determining the successive actions of the
expedition. After the summons to Taxiles, chief of Taxila (itself the
chief city of the Upper Punjab), and the satisfactory reply thereto,
there was nothing to disturb the even course of Alexander's onward
movements but the activity of the mountain tribespeople who flanked
the line of route.
The valley of Laghman must always have been a populous valley. From
the north the snow-capped peaks of Kafiristan look down upon it, and
from among the forest-clad valleys at the foot of these peaks two
important river systems take their rise, the Alingar and the Alishang,
which, uniting, join the Kabul River in the flat plain, where villages
now crowd in and dispute each acre of productive soil. It is difficult
to reach the Laghman valley from the west. The defiles of the Kabul
River are here impassable, but they can be turned by mountain routes,
and Alexander's force, which included the Hyspaspists, who were
comparatively lightly armed, with the archers, the "companion" cavalry
and the lancers, was evidently picked for mountain warfare. The
heavier brigades were with Hyphæstion who struck out by the
straightest route for Peukelaotis, which has been identified with an
ancient site about 17 miles to the north-east of Peshawur on the
eastern bank of the Swat River, and was then the capital of the
ancient Gandhara. We are told that Alexander's route was rugged and
hilly, and lay along the course of the river called Khoes. Rugged and
hilly it certainly was, but the Khoes presents a difficulty. He could
not actually follow the course of the Kabul River (Kophen) from the
Kabul plain because of the defiles, but he could have followed that
river below Butkak to the western entrance of the Laghman valley where
it unites with the Alingar, or Kao, River. It is impossible to admit
that he reached the Kao River after crossing the Kohistan and
Kafiristan, and then descended that river to its junction with the
Kabul. No cavalry could have performed such a feat. Geographical
conditions compel us to assume that he followed the Kabul River, which
is sometimes called Kao above the junction of the Kao River.
It is far more impossible to identify the actual sites of Alexander's
first military engagements than it is to say, for instance, at this
period of history, where Cæsar landed in Great Britain, as we have no
means of making exhaustive local inquiries; but subsequent history
clearly indicates that his next step after settling the Laghman tribes
was to push on to the valley of the Choaspes, or Kunar. It was in the
Kunar valley that he found and defeated the chief of the Aspasians.
The Kunar River is by far the most important of the northern
tributaries of the Kabul. It rises under the Pamirs and is otherwise
known as the Chitral River. The Kunar valley is amongst the most
lovely of the many lovely valleys of Afghanistan. Flanked by the
snowy-capped mountains of Kashmund on the west, and the long level
water parting which divides it from Bajaor and the Panjkora drainage
on the east, it appears, as one enters it from Jalalabad, to be hemmed
in and constricted. The gates of it are indeed somewhat narrow, but it
widens out northward, where the ridges of the lofty Kashmund tail off
into low altitudes of sweeping foothills a few miles above the
entrance, and here offer opportunity for an easy pass across the
divide from the west into the valley. This is a link in the oldest and
probably the best trodden route from Kabul to the Punjab, and it has
no part with the Khaibar. It links together these northern valleys of
Laghman, Kunar, and Lundai (_i.e._ the Panjkora and Swat united) by a
road north of the Kabul, finally passing southwards into the plains
chequered by the river network above Peshawur.
The lower Kunar valley in the early autumn is passing beautiful. Down
the tawny plain and backed by purple hills the river winds its way,
reflecting the azure sky with pure turquoise colour--the opaque blue
of silted water--blinking and winking with tiny sun shafts, and
running emerald green at the edges. Sharp perpendicular columns of
black break the landscape in ordered groups. These are the cypresses
which still adorn in stately rows the archaic gardens of townlets
which once were townships. The clustering villages are thick in some
parts--so thick that they jostle each other continuously. There is
nothing of the drab Punjab about these villages. They are
white-walled and outwardly clean, and in at least one ancient garden
there is a fair imitation of a Kashmir pavilion set at the end of a
white eye-blinding pathway, leading straight and stiff between rows of
cypress, and blotched in spring with inky splashes of fallen
mulberries. The scent of orange blossoms was around when we were
there, luscious and overpowering. It was the oppressive atmosphere of
the typical, sensuous East, and the free, fresh air from the river
outside the mud walls of that jealously-guarded estate was greatly
refreshing when we climbed out of the gardens. All this part of the
river must have been attractive to settlers even in Alexander's time,
and it requires no effort of imagination to suppose that it was here
that his second series of actions took place. Higher up the river the
valley closes, until, long before Chitral is reached, it narrows
exceedingly. Here, in the north, the northern winds rage down the
funnel with bitter fury and make life burdensome. The villages take to
the hill-slopes or cluster in patches on the flat terraces at their
foot. The revetted wall of small hillside fields outline the spurs in
continuous bands of pasture, and at intervals quaint colonies of huts
cling to the hills and seem ready to slither down into the wild rush
of the river below. Such as a whole is the Kunar valley, which,
centuries after Alexander had passed across it, was occupied by Kafir
tribes who may have succeeded the Aspasian peoples, or who may indeed
represent them. All the wild mountain districts west of the Kunar are
held by Kafirs still, and there is nothing remarkable in the fact
(which we shall see later on) that just to the east of the Kunar
valley Alexander found a people claiming the same origin there that
the Kafirs of Kashmund and Bashgol claim now.
It was during the fighting in the Kunar valley that we hear so much of
that brilliant young leader Ptolemy, the son of Lagos, who was then
shaping his career for a Royal destiny in Egypt. With all the
thrilling incidents of the actual combat we have no space to deal, and
much as they would serve to lighten the prosaic tale of the progress
of Alexander's explorations, we must reluctantly leave them to Arrian
and the Greek historians. We are told that after the Kunar valley
action Alexander crossed the mountains and came to a city at their
base called Arigaion. Assuming that he crossed the Kunar watershed by
the Spinasuka Pass, which leads direct from Pashat (the present
capital of Kunar) into Bajaor, he would be close to Nawagai, the
present chief town of Bajaor. Arigaion would therefore be not far from
Nawagai. The place was burnt down; but recognizing the strategic
importance of the position, he left Krateros to fortify it and make it
the residence not only of such tribespeople as chose to return to
their houses, but also of such of his own soldiers as were unfit for
further service. This seems to have been his invariable custom, and
accounts for the traditions of Greek origin which we still find so
common in the north-western borderland of India. The story of this
part of his expedition reads almost as if it were journalistic. Then,
as now, the tribesmen took to the hills. Then, as now, their position
and approximate numbers could be ascertained by their camp-fires at
night. Ptolemy was intelligence officer and conducted the
reconnaissance, and on his report the plan of attack was arranged.
This was probably the most considerable action fought by Alexander in
the hills north of India. The conflict was sharp but decisive, and the
Aspasians, who had taken up their position on a hill, were utterly
routed. According to Ptolemy 40,000 prisoners and 230,000 oxen were
taken, and the fact that the pick of the oxen were sent to Macedonia
to improve the breed there shows how complete was the line of
communication between Greece and Upper India. The next tribe to be
dealt with were the Assakenians, and to reach them it was necessary to
cross the Gauraios, or Panjkora, which was deep, swift as to current,
and full of boulders. As we find no mention in Arrian's history of the
passage of the Suastos (Swat River) following on that of the Gauraios,
we must conclude that Alexander crossed the Panjkora _below_ its
junction with the Swat, where the river being much enclosed by hills
would certainly afford a most difficult passage. There are other
reasons which tend to confirm this view.
The next important action which took place was the siege and capture
of the city called Massaga, which was only taken after four days'
severe fighting, during which Alexander was wounded in the foot by an
arrow. M'Crindle[1] quotes the various names given in Sanscrit and
Latin literature, and agrees with Rennel in adopting the site of
Mashanagar, mentioned by the Emperor Baber in his memoirs as lying two
marches from Bajaor on the river Swat, as representing Massaga. M.
Court heard from the Yasufzais of Swat that there was a place called
by the double name of Mashkine and Massanagar 24 miles from Bajaor. It
is not to be found now, but there is in the survey maps a place on the
Swat River about that distance from Nawagai (the chief town in Bajaor)
called Matkanai, close to the Malakand Pass, and this is no doubt the
place referred to. It is very difficult even in these days to get a
really authoritative spelling for place-names beyond, or even within,
the British Indian border; and as these surveys were made during the
progress of the Tirah expedition when the whole country was armed,
such information as could be obtained was often unusually sketchy. If
this is the site of Massaga it would be directly on the line of
Alexander's route from Nawagai eastwards, as he rounded the spurs of
the Koh-i-Mor which he left to the north of him, and struck the
Panjkora some miles below its junction with the Swat. There can be
little doubt that it was near this spot that the historic siege took
place. His next objective were two cities called Ora and Bazira, which
were obviously close together and interdependent. Cunningham places
the position of Bazira, at the town of Rustam (on the Kalapani River),
which is itself built on a very extensive old mound and represents the
former site of a town called Bazar. Rustam stands midway between the
Swat and Indus, and must always have been an important trade centre
between the rich valley of Swat and the towns of the Indus. Ora may
possibly be represented by the modern Bazar which is close by.
Geographically this is the most probable solution of the problem of
Alexander's movements, there being direct connection with the Swat
valley through Rustam which is not to be found farther north.
Alexander would have to cross the Malakand from the Swat valley to the
Indus plains, but would encounter no further obstacles if he moved on
this route. Bazira made a fair show of resistance, but the usual Greek
tactics of drawing the enemy out into the plains was resorted to by
Koenos with a certain amount of success; and when Ora fell before
Alexander, the full military strength of Bazira dispersed and fled for
refuge to the rock Aornos.
So far we have followed this Greek expedition into regions which are
beyond the limits of modern Afghanistan, but the new geographical
detail acquired during the most recent of our frontier campaigns
enables new arguments to be adduced in favour of old theories (or the
reverse), and this departure from the strict political boundaries of
our subject leads us to regions which are at any rate historically and
strategically connected with it. With Aornos, however, our excursion
into Indian fields will terminate. Round about Aornos historical
controversy has ebbed and flowed for nearly a century, and it is not
my intention to add much to the literature which already concerns
itself with that doubtful locality. I believe, however, that it will
be some time yet before the last word is said about Aornos. Of all the
positions assigned to that marvellous feat of arms performed by the
Greek force, that which was advanced by the late General Sir James
Abbott in 1854 is the most attractive--so attractive, indeed, that it
is hard to surrender it. The discrepant accounts of the capture of the
famous "rock" given by Arrian (from the accounts of Ptolemy, one of
the chief actors in the scene), Curtius, Diodoros, and Strabo
obviously deal with a mountain position of considerable extent, where
was a flattish summit on which cavalry could act, and the base of it
was washed by the Indus. All, however, write as if it were an isolated
mountain with a definite circuit of, according to Arrian, 23 miles and
a height of 6200 feet (according to Diodoros of 12 miles and over 9000
feet). The "rock" was situated near the city of Embolina, which we
know to have been on the Indus and which is probably to be identified
more or less with the modern town of Amb. The mountain was
forest-covered, with good soil and water springs. It was precipitous
towards the Indus, yet "not so steep but that 220 horse and war
engines were taken up to the summit," all of which Sir James Abbott
finds compatible with the hill Mahaban which is close to Amb, and
answers all descriptions excepting that of isolation, for it is but a
lofty spur of the dividing ridge between the Chumla, an affluent of
the Buner River, and the lower Mada Khel hills, culminating in a peak
overlooking the Indus from a height of 7320 feet. The geographical
situation is precisely such as we should expect under the
circumstances. The tribespeople driven from Bazira (assuming Bazira to
be near Rustam) following the usual methods of the mountaineers of the
Indian frontier, would retreat to higher and more inaccessible
fastnesses in their rugged hills. There is but one way open from
Rustam towards the Indus offering them the chance of safety from
pursuit, and undoubtedly they followed that track. It leads up to the
great divide north of them and then descends into the Chumla valley
leading to that of Buner, and the hills which were to prove their
salvation might well be those flanking the Chumla on the south, rising
as they do to ever higher altitudes as they approach the Indus. This,
in fact, is Mahaban. By all the rules of Native strategy in Northern
India this is precisely the position which they would take up.
Aornos appears to have been a kind of generic name with the Greeks,
applied to mountain positions of a certain class, for we hear of
another Aornos in Central Asia, and the word translated "rock" seems
to mean anything from a mountain (as in the present case) to a
sand-bank (as in the case of the voyage of Nearkos). No isolated hill
such as would exactly fit in with Arrian's description exists in that
part of the Indus valley, and no physical changes such as alteration
in the course of the Indus, or such as might be effected by the
tectonic forces of Nature, are likely to have removed such a mountain.
Abbott's identification has therefore been generally accepted for many
years, and it has remained for our latest authority to question it
seriously.
The latest investigator into the archæological interests of the Indian
trans-frontier is Dr. M. A. Stein, the Inspector-General of Education
in India. The marvellous results of his researches in Chinese
Turkistan have rendered his name famous all over the archæological
world, and it is to him that we owe an entirely new conception of the
civilization of Indo-China during the Buddhist period. Dr. Stein's
methods are thorough. He leaves nothing to speculation, and indulges
in no romance, whatever may be the temptation. He takes with him on
his archæological excursions a trained native surveyor of the Indian
survey, and he thus not only secures an exact illustration of his own
special area of investigation, but incidentally he adds immensely to
our topographical knowledge of little known regions. This is specially
necessary in those wild districts which are more immediately
contiguous to the Indian border, for it is seldom that the original
surveys of these districts can be anything more than topographical
sketches acquired, sometimes from a distance, sometimes on the spot,
but generally under all the disadvantages and disabilities of active
campaigning, when the limited area within which survey operations can
be carried on in safety is often very restricted. Thus we have very
presentable geographical maps of the regions of Alexander's exploits
in the north, but we have not had the opportunity of examining special
sites in detail, and there are doubtless certain irregularities in the
map compilation. This is very much the case as regards those hill
districts on the right bank of the Indus immediately adjoining the
Buner valley both north and south of it. Mahaban, the mountain which
in Abbott's opinion best represents what is to be gathered from
classical history of the general characteristics of Aornos, is south
of Buner, overlooking the lower valley close to the Indus River. Dr.
Stein formed the bold project of visiting Mahaban personally, and
taking a surveyor with him. It was a bold project, for there were many
difficulties both political and physical. The tribespeople
immediately connected with Mahaban are the Gaduns--a most unruly
people, constantly fighting amongst themselves; and it was only by
seizing on the exact psychological moment when for a brief space our
political representative had secured a lull in these fratricidal
feuds, that Stein was enabled to act. He actually reached Mahaban
under most trying conditions of wind and weather, and he made his
survey. Incidentally he effected some most remarkable Buddhist
identifications; but so far as the identification of Mahaban with
Aornos is concerned he came to the conclusion that such identification
could not possibly be maintained. This opinion is practically based on
the impossibility of fitting the details of the story of Aornos to the
physical features of Mahaban. It is unfortunate (but perhaps
inevitable) that even in those incidents and operations of Alexander's
expedition where his footsteps can be distinctly traced from point to
point, where geographical conformation absolutely debars us from
alternative selection of lines of action, the details of the story
never do fit the physical conditions which must have obtained in his
time.
As the history of Alexander is in the main a true history, there is
absolutely no justification for cutting out the thrilling incident of
Aornos from it. There was undoubtedly an Aornos somewhere near the
Indus, and there was a singularly interesting fight for its
possession, the story of which includes so many of the methods and
tactics familiar to every modern north-west frontiersman, that we
decline to believe it to be all invention. But the story was written a
century after Alexander's time, compiled from contemporary records it
is true, but leaving no margin for inquiry amongst survivors as to
details. If, instead of ancient history, we were to turn to the
century-old records of our own frontier expeditions and rewrite them
with no practical knowledge of the geography of the country, and no
witness of the actual scene to give us an _ex parte_ statement of what
happened (for no single participator in an action is ever able to give
a correct account of all the incidents of it), what should we expect?
Some furtive investigator might study the story of the ascent of the
famous frontier mountain, the Takht-i-Suliman (a veritable Aornos!),
during the expedition of 1882-83, and find it impossible to recognize
the account of its steep and narrow ascent, requiring men to climb on
their hands and knees, with the fact that a very considerable force
did finally ascend by comparatively easy slopes and almost dropped on
to the heads of the defenders. Such incidents require explanation to
render them intelligible, and at this distance of time it is only
possible to balance probabilities as regards Aornos.
Alexander's objective being India, eventually, and the Indus (of
India, not of the Himalayas) immediately, he would take the road
which led straightest from Massaga to the Indus; it is inconceivable
that he would deliberately involve himself and his army in the maze of
pathless mountains which enclose the head of Buner. He would certainly
take the road which leads from Malakand to the Indus, on which lies
Rustam. It has always been a great high-road. One of the most
interesting discoveries in connection with the Tirah campaign was the
old Buddhist road, well engineered and well graded, which leads from
Malakand to the plains of the Punjab--those northern plains which
abound with Buddhist relics. If we identify Bazar, or Rustam, with
Bazireh we may assume with certainty that a retreating tribe, driven
from any field of defeat on the straight high-road which links
Panjkora with the Indus, would inevitably retire to the nearest and
the highest mountain ridge that was within reach. This is certainly
the ridge terminating with Mahaban and flanking the Buner valley on
the south, a refuge in time of trouble for many a lawless people.
Probability, then, would seem to favour Mahaban, or some mountain
position near it. The modern name of this peak is Shah Kot, and it is
occupied by a mixed and irregular folk. Here Dr. Stein spent an
unhappy night in a whirling snow-storm, but he succeeded in examining
the mountain thoroughly. He decided that that position of Mahaban
could not possibly represent Aornos, for the following reasons:--The
hill-top is too narrow for military action; the ascent, instead of
being difficult, is easy from every side; and there is no spring of
water on the summit, which summit must have been a very considerable
plateau to admit of the action described; finally, there is no great
ravine, and therefore no opportunity for the erection of the mound
described by Arrian, which enabled the Greeks to fusilade the enemy's
camp with darts and stones. Can we reconcile these discrepancies with
the text of history?
After the reduction of Bazira Alexander marched towards the Indus and
received the submission of Peukelaotis, which was then the capital of
what is now, roughly speaking, the Peshawur district. The site of this
ancient capital appears to be ascertained beyond doubt, and we must
regard it as fixed near Charsadda, about 17 miles north-east (not
north-west as M'Crindle has it) from Peshawur. From this place
Alexander marched to Embolina, which is said to be a city close
adjoining the rock of Aornos. On the route thither he is said by
Arrian to have taken "many other small towns seated upon that river,"
_i.e_. the Indus; two princes of that province, Cophæus and Assagetes,
accompanying him. This sufficiently indicates that his march must have
been up the right bank of the Indus, which would be the natural route
for him to follow. Arrived at Embolina, he arranged for a base of
supplies at that point, and then, with "Archers, Agrians, Cænus'
Troop" and the choicest, best armed, and most expeditious foot out of
the whole army, besides 200 auxiliary horse and 100 equestrian
archers, he marched towards the "rock" (8 miles distant), and on the
first day chose a place convenient for an encampment. The day after,
he pitched his tents much higher. The ancient Embolina may not be the
modern Amb, but Amb undoubtedly is an extremely probable site for such
a base of supplies to be formed, whether the final objective were
Mahaban or any place (as suggested by Stein) higher up the river. The
fact that there is a similarity in the names Amb and Embolina need not
militate against the adoption of the site of Amb as by far the most
probable that any sagacious military commander would select. A mere
resemblance between the ancient and modern names of places may, of
course, be most deceptive. On the other hand it is often a most
valuable indication, and one certainly not to be neglected.
Place-names last with traditional tenacity in the East, and obscured
as they certainly would be by Greek transliteration (after all, not
worse than British transliteration), they still offer a chance of
identifying old positions such as nothing else can offer excepting
accurate topographical description. Once again, if Embolina were not
Amb it certainly ought to have been.
Alexander's next movements from Embolina most clearly indicate that he
had to deal with a mountain position. There is no getting away from
it, nor from the fact that the road to it was passable for horsemen,
and therefore not insuperably difficult. At the same time he had to
move as slowly as any modern force would move, for he was traversing
the rough spurs of a hill which ran to 7800 feet in altitude. Further,
the mountain was high enough to render signalling by fire useful. The
"rock" was obviously either a mountain itself or it was perched on the
summit of a mountain. Ptolemy as usual had conducted the
reconnaissance. He established himself unobserved in a temporary
position on the crest, within reach of the enemy, who attempted to
dispossess him and failed; and it was he who (according to the story)
signalled to Alexander. Ptolemy had followed a route, with guides,
which proved rough and difficult, and Alexander's attempt to join him
next day was prevented by the fierce activity of the mountaineers, who
were plainly fighting from the mountain spurs. Then, it is said,
Alexander communicated with Ptolemy by night and arranged a combined
plan of attack. When it "was almost night" of the following day
Alexander succeeded in joining Ptolemy, but only after severe fighting
during the ascent. Then the combined forces attacked the "rock" and
failed. All this so far is plain unvarnished mountain warfare, and the
incidents follow each other as naturally as in any modern campaign. It
becomes clear that the "rock" was a position on the crest of a high
mountain, the ascent of which was rendered doubly difficult by fierce
opposition. But it was practicable. Nothing is said about cavalry
ascending. Why, then, did Alexander take cavalry? This question leads
to another. Why do our frontier generals always burden themselves with
cavalry on these frontier expeditions? They cannot act on the
mountain-sides, and they are useless for purposes of pursuit. The
answer is that they are most valuable for preserving the line of
communication. Without the cavalry Alexander had no overwhelming force
at his disposal, and it would not be very hazardous if we assumed that
the force which actually reached the crest of the mountain was a
comparatively small one--much of the original brigade being dispersed
on the route.
Dr. Stein found the ascent too easy to reconcile with history. This
might possibly be the effect of long weather action of the slopes of
mountains subject to severe snow-falls. Twenty-three centuries of wind
and weather have beaten on those scarred and broken slopes since
Alexander's day. Those twenty-three centuries have had such effect on
the physical outlines of land conformation elsewhere as absolutely to
obliterate the tracks over which the Greek force most undoubtedly
passed. What may have been the exact effect of them on Mahaban,
whether (as usual) they rounded off sharp edges, cut out new channels,
obliterated some water springs and gave rise to others, smoothing
down the ruggedness of spurs and shaping the drainage, we cannot say.
Only it is certain that the slopes of Mahaban--and its crest for that
matter--are not what they were twenty-three centuries ago. We shall
never recognize Aornos by its superficial features. Then, in the Greek
story, follows the episode of filling up the great ravine which yawned
between the Greek position and the "rock" on which the tribespeople
were massed, and the final abandonment of the latter when, after three
days' incessant toil, a mound had been raised from which it could be
assailed by the darts and missiles of the Greeks. Arrian tells the
story with a certain amount of detail. He states that a "huge rampart"
was raised "from the level of that part of the hill where their
entrenchment was" by means of "poles and stakes," the whole being
"perfected in three days." On the fourth day the Greeks began to build
a "mound opposite the rock," and Alexander decided to extend the
"Rampart" to the mound. It was then that the "Barbarians" decided to
surrender.
In the particular translation from which I have quoted (Rookes, 1829)
there is nothing said about the "great ravine" of which Stein writes
that it is clearly referred to by "all texts," and a very little
consideration will show that it could never have existed. No matter
what might have been the strength of Alexander's force it could only
have been numbered by hundreds and not by thousands, when it reached
the summit of the mountain. We might refer to the modern analogy of
the expedition to the summit of the Takht-i-Suliman, where it was
found quite impossible to maintain a few companies of infantry for
more than two or three days. Numbers engaged in action are
proverbially exaggerated, especially in the East; but the physical
impossibility of keeping a large force on the top of a mountain must
certainly be acknowledged. Even supposing there were a thousand men,
and that no guards were required, and no reliefs, and that the whole
force could apply themselves to filling up a "large ravine" with such
"stakes and poles" as they could carry or drag from the
mountain-slopes, it would take three months rather than three days to
fill up any ravine which could possibly be called "large." General
Abbott, as a scientific officer, was probably quite correct in his
estimate of the "Rampart" as some sort of a "trench of approach with a
parapet." There could not possibly have been a "great mound built of
stakes and poles for crossing a ravine." It may be noted that
Ptolemy's defensive work on his first arrival on the summit is called
(or translated) "Rampart," and yet we know that it could only have
been a palisade or an abattis. The story told by Arrian (and possibly
maltreated by translators) is doubtless full of inaccuracies and
exaggerations, but we decline to believe that it is pure invention.
There is nothing in it, so far, which absolutely militates against the
Mahaban of to-day (that refuge for Hindustani fanatics at one time,
and for the discontented tribesfolk of the whole countryside through
all time) being the Aornos of Arrian. No appearance of "precipices"
is, however, to be found in the survey of the summit which accompanied
Dr. Stein's report, and no opportunity for the defeated tribesmen to
fall into the river. The story runs that the defeated mountaineers
retreating from the victorious Greeks fell over the precipices in
their hot haste, and that many of them were drowned in the Indus. This
is indeed an incident which might be added as an effective addition to
any tall story of a fight which took place on hills in the immediate
neighbourhood of a river; but under no conceivable circumstances could
it be adjusted to the formation of the Mahaban hill, even if it were
admitted that armoured Greeks were any match in the hills for the
fleet-footed and light-clad Indians. Probably the incident is purely
decorative, but we need not therefore assume that the whole story is
fiction. It has been pointed out by Sir Bindon Blood, who commanded
the latest expedition to the Buner valley, that failing Mahaban there
is north of the Buner River, immediately overlooking the Indus, a peak
called Baio with precipitous flanks on the river side, which would fit
in with the tale of Aornos better even than Mahaban. The Buner River
joins the Indus through an impassable gorge steeply entrenched on
either side, and a mile or two above it is the peak of Baio. So far as
the Indus is concerned, that river presents no difficulties, for boats
can be hauled up it far beyond Baio--even to Thakot. Looking northward
or westward from above Kotkai one sees the river winding round the
foot of the lower spurs of the Black Mountain on its left or eastern
bank. Beyond is Baio on its right bank, towering (with a clumsy fort
on its summit) over the Indus and forming part of a continuous ridge,
beyond which again in the blue distance is the line of hills over
which is the Ambela Pass at the head of the Chumla valley. (It is
curious how the nomenclature hereabouts echoes faintly the Greek
Embolina.) Above Baio is the ford of Chakesar, from which runs an
old-time road westward to Manglaor, once the Buddhist capital of Swat.
It would be all within reach of either Indians or Greeks, so we need
not quite give up the thrilling tale of Aornos yet, even if Dr. Stein
defeats us on Mahaban.
Then follows the narrative of an excursion into the country of the
Assakenoi and the capture of the elephants, which had been taken for
safety into the hills. The scene of this short expedition must have
been near the Indus, and was probably the valley of the Chumla or
Buner immediately under Mahaban, to the north. There was in those
far-off days a different class of vegetation on the Indus banks to
any which exists at present. We know that a good deal of the Indus
plain below its debouchment from the hills was a reedy swamp in
Alexander's time, and it was certainly the haunt of the rhinoceros for
centuries subsequently, and consequently quite suitable for elephants,
and it is probable that for some little distance above its debouchment
the same sort of pasturage was obtainable. Most interesting perhaps of
all the incidents in Arrian's history is that which now follows. We
are told that "Alexander then entered that part of the country which
lies between the Kophen and the Indus, where Nysa is said to be
situate." Other authorities, however, Curtius (viii. 10), Strabo (xv.
697), and Justin (xii. 7), make him a visitor to Nysa before he
crossed the Choaspes and took Massaga. All this is very vague; the
river he crossed immediately before taking Massaga was certainly the
Gauraios or Panjkora.
There is a certain element of confusion in classical writings in
dealing with river names which we need not wait to investigate; nor is
it a matter of great importance whether Alexander retraced his steps
all the way to the country of Nysa (for no particular reason), or
whether he visited Nysa as he passed from the Kunar valley to the
Panjkora. The latter is far more probable, as Nysa (if we have
succeeded in identifying that interesting relic of pre-Alexandrian
Greek occupation) would be right in his path. Various authorities have
placed Nysa in different parts of the wide area indicated as lying
between the Kophen (Kabul) and the Indus, but none, before the Asmar
Boundary Commission surveyed the Kunar valley in the year 1894, had
the opportunity of studying the question _in loco_. Even then there
was no possibility of reaching the actual site which was indicated as
the site of Nysa; and when subsequently in 1898 geographical surveys
of Swat were pushed forward wherever it was possible for surveyors to
obtain a footing, they never approached that isolated band of hills at
the foot of which Nysa once lay. The result of inquiries instituted
during the progress of demarcating the boundary between Afghanistan
and the independent districts of the east from Asmar have been given
in the _R.G.S. Journal_, vol. vii., and no subsequent information has
been obtained which might lead me to modify the views therein
expressed, excepting perhaps in the doubtful point as to _when_, in
the course of his expedition, Alexander visited Nysa. In the first
engraved Atlas sheet of the Indian Survey dealing with the regions
east of the Kunar River, the name of Nysa, or Nyssa, is recorded as
one of the most important places in that neighbourhood, and it is
placed just south of the Koh-i-Mor, a spur, or extension, from the
eastern ridges of the Kunar valley. From what source of information
this addition to the map was made it is difficult to say, now that the
first compiler of those maps (General Walker) has passed away. But it
was undoubtedly a native source. Similarly the information obtained at
Asmar, that a large and scattered village named _Nusa_ was to be found
in that position, was also from a native (Yusufzai) source. No
possible cause can be suggested for this agreement between the two
native authorities, and it is unlikely that the name could have been
invented by both. At the same time Nysa, or Nusa, is not now generally
known to the borderland people near the Indian frontier, and it is
certainly no longer an important village. It is probably no more than
scattered and hidden ruins. Above it towers the three-peaked hill
called the Koh-i-Mor, whose outlines can be clearly distinguished from
Peshawur on any clear day, and on that hill grows the wild vine and
the ivy, even as they grow in glorious trailing and exuberant masses
on the scarped slopes of the Kafiristan hills to the west.
We may repeat here what Arrian has to say about Nysa. "The city was
built by Dionysos or Bacchus when he conquered the Indians, but who
this Bacchus was, or at what time or from whence he conquered the
Indians is hard to determine. Whether he was that Theban who from
Thebes or he who from Tmolus, a mountain of Lydia, undertook that
famous expedition into India ... is very uncertain." So here we have a
clear reference to previous invasions of India from Greece, which were
regarded as historical in Arrian's time. However, as soon as
Alexander arrived at Nysa a deputation of Nysæans, headed by one
Akulphis, waited on him, and, after recovering from the astonishment
that his extraordinary appearance inspired, they presented a petition.
"The Nysæans entreat thee O King, for the reverence thou bearest to
Dionysos, their God, to leave their city untouched ... for Bacchus ...
built this city for an habitation for such of his soldiers as age or
accident had rendered unfit for military service.... He called this
city Nysa (Nuson) after the name of his nurse ... and the mountain
also, which is so near us, he would have denominated Meros (or the
thigh) alluding to his birth from that of Jupiter ... and as an
undoubted token that the place was founded by Bacchus, the ivy which
is to be found nowhere else throughout all India, flourishes in our
territories." Alexander was pleased to grant the petition, and ordered
that a hundred of the chief citizens should join his camp and
accompany him. It was then that Akulphis, with much native shrewdness,
suggested that if he really had the good of the city at heart he
should take two hundred of the worst citizens instead of one hundred
of the best--a suggestion which appealed at once to Alexander's good
sense, and the demand was withdrawn. Alexander then visited the
mountain and sacrificed to Bacchus, his troops meanwhile making
garlands of ivy "wherewith they crowned their heads, singing and
calling loudly upon the god, not only by the name of Dionysos, but by
all his other names." A sort of Bacchic orgy!
But who were the Nysæans, and what became of them? In Arrian's
_Indika_ he says: "The Assakenoi" (who inhabited the Swat valley east
of Nysa) "are not men of great stature like the Indians ... not so
brave nor yet so swarthy as most Indians. They were in old times
subject to the Assyrians; then after a period of Median rule submitted
to the Persians ... the Nysaioi, however, are not an Indian race, but
descendants of those who came to India with Dionysos"; he adds that
the mountain "in the lower slopes of which Nysa is built" is
designated Meros, and he clearly distinguishes between Assakenoi and
Nysaioi. M. de St. Martin says that the name Nysa is of Persian or
Median origin; but although we know that Assyrians, Persians, and
Medes all overran this part of India before Alexander, and all must
have left, as was the invariable custom of those days, representatives
of their nationality behind them who have divided with subsequent
Skyths the ethnographical origin of many of the Upper Indian valley
tribes of to-day, there seems no sound reason for disputing the origin
of this particular name.
Ptolemy barely mentions Nysa, but we learn something about the Nysæans
from fragments of the _Indika_ of Megasthenes, which have been
collected by Dr. Schwanbeck and translated by M'Crindle. We learn that
this pre-Alexandrian Greek Dionysos was a most beneficent conqueror.
He taught the Indians how to make wine and cultivate the fields; he
introduced the system of retiring to the slopes of Meros (the first
"hill station" in India) in the hot weather, where "the army recruited
by the cold breezes and the water which flowed fresh from the
fountains, recovered from sickness.... Having achieved altogether many
great and noble works, he was regarded as a deity, and obtained
immortal honours."
Again we read, in a fragment quoted by Strabo, that the reason of
calling the mountain above Nysa by the name of Meron was that "ivy
grows there, and also the vine, although its fruit does not come to
perfection, as the clusters, on account of the heaviness of the rains,
fall off the trees before ripening. They" (the Greeks) "further call
the Oxydrakai descendants of Dionysos, because the vine grew in their
country, and their processions were conducted with great pomp, and
their kings, on going forth to war, and on other occasions, marched in
Bacchic fashion with drums beating," etc.
Again we find, in a fragment quoted by Polyænus, that Dionysos, "in
his expedition against the Indians, in order that the cities might
receive him willingly, disguised the arms with which he had equipped
his troops, and made them wear soft raiment and fawn-skins. The spears
were wrapped round with ivy, and the thyrsus had a sharp point. He
gave the signal for battle by cymbals and drums instead of the
trumpet; and, by regaling the enemy with wine, diverted their thoughts
from war to dancing. These and all other Bacchic orgies were employed
in the system of warfare by which he subjugated the Indians and the
rest of Asia."
All these lively legends point to a very early subjugation of India by
a Western race (who may have been of Greek origin) before the
invasions of Assyrian, Mede, or Persian. It could not well have been
later than the sixth century B.C., and might have been earlier by many
centuries. The Nysæans, whose city Alexander spared, were the
descendants of those conquerors who, coming from the West, were
probably deterred by the heat of the plains of India from carrying
their conquests south of the Punjab. They settled on the cool and
well-watered slopes of those mountains which crown the uplands of Swat
and Bajaur, where they cultivated the vine for generations, and after
the course of centuries, through which they preserved the tradition of
their Western origin, they welcomed the Macedonian conqueror as a man
of their own faith and nation. It seems possible that they may have
extended their habitat as far eastward as the upper Swat valley and
the mountain region of the Indus, and at one time may have occupied
the site of the ancient capital of the Assakenoi, Massaga, which there
is reason to suppose stood near the position now occupied by the town
of Matakanai; but they were clearly no longer there in the days of
Alexander, and must be distinguished as a separate race altogether
from the Assakenoi. As the centuries rolled on, this district of Swat,
together with the valley of Dir, became a great headquarters of
Buddhism. It is from this part of the trans-frontier that some of the
most remarkable of those sculptures have been taken which exhibit so
strong a Greek and Roman influence in their design. They are the
undoubted relics of stupas, dagobas, and monasteries belonging to a
period of a Buddhist occupation of the country, which was established
after Alexander's time. Buddhism did not become a State religion till
the reign of Asoka, grandson of that Sandrakottos (Chandragupta) to
whom Megasthenes was sent as ambassador; and it is improbable that any
of these buildings existed in the time of the Greek invasion, or we
should certainly have heard of them.
But along with these Buddhist relics there have been lately unearthed
certain strange inscriptions, which have been submitted by their
discoverer, Major Deane,[2] to a congress of Orientalists, who can
only pronounce them to be in an unknown tongue. They have been found
in the Indus valley east of Swat, most of them being engraved on stone
slabs which have been built into towers, now in ruins. The towers are
comparatively modern, but it by no means follows that these
inscriptions are so. It is the common practice of Pathan builders to
preserve any engraved or sculptured relic that they may find, by
utilizing them as ornamental features in their buildings. It has
probably been a custom from time immemorial. In 1895 I observed
evidences of this propensity in the graveyard at Chagan Sarai, in the
Kunar valley, where many elaborately carved Buddhist fragments were
let into the sides of their roughly built "chabutras," or sepulchres,
with the obvious purpose of gaining effect thereby. No one would say
where those Buddhist fragments came from. The Kunar valley appears at
first sight to be absolutely free from Buddhist remains, although it
would naturally be selected as a most likely field for research. These
undeciphered inscriptions may possibly be found to be vastly more
ancient than the towers they adorned. It is, at any rate, a notable
fact about them that some of them "recall a Greek alphabet of archaic
type." So great an authority as M. Senart inclines to the opinion that
their authors must be referred to the Skythic or Mongolian invaders of
India; but he refers at the same time to a sculptured and inscribed
monument in the Louvre, of unknown origin, the characters on which
resemble those of the new script. "The subject of this sculpture seems
to be a Bacchic procession." What if it really is a Bacchic
procession, and the characters thereon inscribed prove to be an
archaic form of Greek--the forgotten forms of the Nysæan alphabet?
Whilst surveying in the Kunar valley along the Kafiristan borderland,
I made the acquaintance of two Kafirs of Kamdesh, who stayed some
little time in the Afghan camp, in which my own tent was pitched, and
who were objects of much interest to the members of the Boundary
Commission there assembled. They submitted gracefully enough to much
cross-examination, and amongst other things they sang a war-hymn to
their god Gish, and executed a religious dance. Gish is not supreme in
their mythology, but he is the god who receives by far the greatest
amount of attention, for the Kafir of the lower Bashgol is ever on the
raid, always on the watch for the chance of a Mahomedan life. It is,
indeed, curious that whilst tolerant enough to allow of the existence
of Mahomedan communities in their midst, they yet rank the life of a
Mussulman as the one great object of attainment; so that a Kafir's
social position is dependent on the activity he displays in searching
out the common enemy, and his very right to sing hymns of adoration to
his war-god is strictly limited by the number of lives he has taken.
The hymn which these Kafirs recited, or sang, was translated word by
word, with the aid of a Chitrali interpreter, by a Munshi, who has the
reputation of being a most careful interpreter, and the following is
almost a literal transcript, for which I am indebted to Dr. MacNab, of
the Q.O. Corps of Guides:--
O thou who from Gir-Nysa's (lofty heights) was born
Who from its sevenfold portals didst emerge,
On Katan Chirak thou hast set thine eyes,
Towards (the depths of) Sum Bughal dost go,
In Sum Baral assembled you have been.
Sanji from the heights you see; Sanji you consult?
The council sits. O mad one, whither goest thou?
Say, Sanji, why dost thou go forth?
The words within brackets are introduced, otherwise the translation is
literal. Gir-Nysa means the mountain of Nysa, Gir being a common
prefix denoting a peak or hill. Katan Chirak is explained to be an
ancient town in the Minjan valley of Badakshan, now in ruins; but it
was the first large place that the Kafirs captured, and is apparently
held to be symbolical of victory. This reference connects the Kamdesh
Kafirs with Badakshan, and shows these people to have been more
widespread than they are at present. Sum Bughal is a deep ravine
leading down to the plain of Sum Baral, where armies are assembled for
war. Sanji appears to be the oracle consulted before war is
undertaken. The chief interest of this verse (for I believe it is only
one verse of many, but it was all that our friends were entitled to
repeat) is the obvious reference in the first line to the mountain of
Bacchus, the Meros from which he was born, on the slopes of which
stood the ancient Nysa. It is, indeed, a Bacchic hymn (slightly
incoherent, perhaps, as is natural), and only wants the accessories of
vine-leaves and ivy to make it entirely classical.
That eminent linguistic authority, Dr. Grierson, thinks that the
language in which the hymn was recited is derived from what Sanscrit
writers said was the language of the Pisacas, a people whom they
dubbed "demons" and "eaters of raw flesh," and who may be represented
by the "Pashai" dwellers in Laghman and its vicinity to-day. Possibly
the name of the chief village of the Kunar valley Pashat may claim the
same origin, for Laghman and Kunar both spread their plains to the
foot of the mountains of Kafiristan.
The vine and the ivy are not far to seek. In making slow progress
through one of the deep "darras," or ravines, of the western Kunar
basin, leading to the snow-bound ridges that overlook Bashgol, I was
astonished at the free growth of the wild vine, and the thick masses
of ivy which here and there clung to the buttresses of the rugged
mountain spurs as ivy clings to less solid ruins in England. The
Kafirs have long been celebrated for their wine-making. Early in the
nineteenth century, when the adventurer Baber, on his way to found the
most magnificent dynasty that India has ever seen at Delhi, first
captured the ancient city of Bajaor, and then moved on to the valley
of Jandoul--now made historic by another adventurer, Umra Khan--he was
perpetually indulging in drinking-parties; and he used to ride in from
Jandoul to Bajaor to join his cronies in a real good Bacchic orgy more
frequently than was good for him. He has a good deal to say about the
Kafir wine in that inimitable Diary of his, and his appreciation of
it was not great. It was, however, much better than nothing, and he
drank a good deal of it. Through the kindness of the Sipah Salar, the
Amir's commander-in-chief, I have had the opportunity of tasting the
best brand of this classical liquor, and I agree with Baber--it is not
of a high class. It reminded me of badly corked and muddy Chablis,
which it much resembled in appearance.
[Illustration: GREEK RETREAT FROM INDIA]
FOOTNOTES:
[1] _Ancient India_, "Invasion by Alexander the Great." Appendix.
[2] The late Sir H. Deane.