At ten o'clock at night, on the 1st of December, the troops
detailed for the attack mustered in the camp. The assembly took
place without sound of bugle, and even the necessary words of
command were given in a low tone. Through the still night air the
Afghans on the hills, little more than two miles away, would have
heard the stir. It was a very dark night, although the stars shone
clear.
"Where can we be going?" William Gale asked the soldier next to
him. "We are going right away from the pass, instead of towards
it."
"So we are!" the soldier replied. "I am blest if I know what we are
up to, and it's so precious dark that I can scarcely see the file
before me. I hope we ain't going to fight in the dark, anyhow. What
would be the good of being a marksman, when you cannot see the end
of your own rifle, let alone the man you are firing at?"
"Oh! We can't be going to attack in the dark," Will said. "I expect
we have got a long march before us; and are going to work round,
somehow, and take them in rear."
"Well, I hope whoever is acting as guide can see better in the
darkness than I can; else we are safe to lose our way, and may find
ourselves anywhere, in the morning.
"Confound it!" The exclamation was elicited by the speaker
stumbling over a boulder, and nearly going on to his head.
"Silence in the ranks, there!" an officer said, close by.
Each regiment was followed by its ammunition mules, and hospital
doolies--the latter being covered stretchers, or palkies, carried
by natives. Besides these were dandies--or chairs--slung upon
mules. This greatly added to the difficulty of a night march for,
even in the daytime, the presence of baggage animals in a column,
upon a narrow road, greatly hinders the troops and, at night, the
delays occasioned by them are naturally very much greater.
For the first three and a half miles the column marched away from
the enemy upon the Khotal, and the surprise of the soldiers
increased at every step they took. At the end of that time they
arrived at the village of Peiwar. Here they turned to the left and,
after crossing several ravines, and stony water courses, arrived on
a cultivated terrace; and kept along this till they reached a very
stiff nullah, twenty feet deep.
The night was bitterly cold, the bank of the nullah was extremely
slippery, and the boulders in the water course below coated with
ice. The difficulty of getting the loaded animals across, in the
darkness, was therefore very great. The passage of the various
water courses caused great delays; and it was difficult to keep the
column together, in the dark. At each passage, the rear was
immensely delayed while the leading troops were passing; and these
again had to be halted, while those behind them struggled over the
difficulties. The men suffered much from cold, as the pace was so
slow that they could not warm themselves; and the mounted officers
specially suffered, in their hands and feet.
At midnight the ravine leading up to the Spingawi Pass was reached;
but so dark was it that the 2nd Punjaubees, separated by a few
yards from the regiment in front of them, marched straight on
instead of turning up it; and the 22nd Pioneers, and the four
artillery guns carried on elephants--being behind them--naturally
went astray, also. Brigadier General Thelwall, who commanded the
column, was at the head of his brigade; and was, for some time,
unaware of the absence of two of his regiments but, after halting
and finding that they did not come up, sent back a mounted officer
who, after a two-mile ride, came up with the missing troops, and
guided them back to the point where they had left the route.
From the foot of the ravine to the top of the pass is six miles in
distance and, dark as it was in the open, it was still more so in
the ravine, shadowed by the steep hills on either side. As the
ascent continued the road became worse; the boulders being larger,
and the holes and dried-up pools deeper. The darkness, and the
prevailing white color of the stones, prevented the difference of
level being observed; and many of the men had heavy falls, as the
steep sides of these pools were often from two to four feet deep.
After marching for a mile and a half up the ravine, the report of a
rifle was heard in the ranks of the 29th Punjaubees--who were
leading the column--followed instantly by another discharge.
Colonel Gordon--commanding the regiment--halted; and he and the
general tried, in vain, to discover who had fired. No one could, or
would, identify them; and this seemed clearly to prove that the
rifles had been fired as a signal to the enemy, for they had not
been loaded before the column started. The Punjaubee regiments
contained many hill tribesmen--men closely connected, by ties of
blood and religion, with the enemy whom they were marching to
attack.
A non-commissioned officer and several of the men, who were just
about the spot where the guns had been fired, were placed under
arrest and sent back. It was afterwards found that two of their
rifles had been discharged; and the men who fired, and their
non-commissioned officer were tried by court martial for treachery,
and were hung. After these men had been sent back, the 5th
Ghoorkas, the company of Rangers, and two companies of the 72nd
passed the 23rd Punjaubees, and took their places at the head of
the column. In the course of the march a good many other men of the
23rd left the column, in the dark, and made their way back to camp.
It turned out, afterwards, that the Afghan sentries at the top of
the pass heard the reports, and woke up the commander of the post;
who, hearing no further cause of alarm, took no action in the
matter. Had the traitors waited until the column was within a mile
of the top of the pass, the Afghans would assuredly have taken the
alarm but, firing at a distance of four and a half miles, they
failed in the desired effect.
The advance was resumed, up the bed of the stream, for another mile
and a half. About three in the morning the main water course was
quitted, the road now entering a ravine to the left; up which,
three miles further on, was the summit of the pass. The column
continued its weary way up the ravine, slowly stumbling along in
the dark.
One incident occurred, in this part of the road, showing the
necessity, in night marching, for the regiments to keep close to
each other. In one place a fir-covered island lay in the middle of
the ravine, the torrent's bed lying on either side of it. When the
two companies of the 72nd Highlanders--who had been following close
to that of the Rangers--came to the spot, they were surprised to
find that the troops in front had suddenly vanished. No explanation
could be given as to the cause of this disappearance, so the
company were halted until the mystery was solved.
The leading regiment had taken the passage to the right of the
island, while the 72nd had gone to the left; the separation of the
roads being unnoticed, in the dark. Had the roads diverged, instead
of reuniting, much inconvenience might have been caused by the
delay in collecting the separated portions of the force.
At last the foot of the Khotal was reached, where the track left
the ravine and turned up the spur. The two guides--natives of the
country, who had led the head of the column to this point--refused
to go any further and, as the column was now at the point where the
fighting might begin, they were allowed to depart.
It was about six o'clock when the Ghoorkas began to climb the spur.
The morning had broken; but it was still dark, and the path was
almost invisible in the shadow of the trees. The Ghoorkas--their
rifles loaded now--made their way quietly up the hill. Presently
the challenge of the sentry was heard, followed by two shots.
It was a relief to the men, after ten hours of weary stumbling
along in the cold and darkness, to know that they were, at length,
face to face with their foe. Cold and fatigue were at once
forgotten and, with eyes strained through the darkness, and rifles
ready for use, every man pressed forward. Fifty yards up the hill,
behind the sentry who had fired, was the first stockade of the
enemy; formed by several large trees, which had been felled so as
to completely block up the road, presenting an obstacle of about
eight feet high to the attacking force.
The Afghan pickets lining the stockade poured a volley into the
Ghoorkas who, led by Major Fitzhugh and Captain Cook, made a rush
at the place. For a few minutes there was a fierce fight at the
trees but, as fresh assailants momentarily poured up, the
obstruction was scaled; and the Afghans retired on a second
stockade, eighty yards back. Here another stand was made but, the
spur being a little wider, the Ghoorkas were able to work round
and, taking the defense in flank, soon drove the Afghans back.
Beyond this point the ground was clear of trees; and the road ran,
in short zigzags, up the steep hill to the breastwork which lined
the edge of the top zigzag. A mountain gun, at this point, swept
the approach to the position; while the hill at its back was now
covered with Afghans, who opened a heavy fire upon the troops as,
in the dim morning light, they issued from the trees.
By the time that the Ghoorkas and the Rangers had cleared the
second stockade, the wing of the 72nd Highlanders--ascending by the
right flank--had made their way up to the front; and the whole now
advanced together. As quickly as possible they pushed up the hill,
under the heavy fire of the enemy. The latter fought well, and a
number of them were killed before retiring. At the defense erected
at the top of the zigzag, so obstinately did the Afghans in front
hold their ground that their comrades, behind, were enabled to
remove their mountain gun.
To the right of the enemy's position was a knoll, and the 72nd at
once took possession of this; and two mountain guns were brought up
to their assistance. The Afghans were seen, in great numbers, in
the broken ground ahead. The Ghoorkas and the little body of
Rangers pushed on against them. Presently the enemy gathered, and
made a rush down upon them; and a desperate hand-to-hand fight took
place, for a few minutes. The men were scattered among the trees,
and each fought for himself.
William Gale had just reloaded his rifle when he saw Captain
Herbert--who commanded his company--fall to the ground, and three
Afghans spring forward to finish him. With a bound, Will reached
the side of the officer. Two of the Afghans had already discharged
their pieces. The third leveled and fired. So close was he that the
flash almost burnt the soldier's face, and he felt a sharp pain, as
if a hot iron had passed across his cheek. In an instant, he shot
his assailant dead; and then, with bayonet, stood at bay as the
other two Afghans rushed upon him.
Illustration: Captain Herbert saved.
They had drawn their tulwars, and slashed fiercely at him; but he
kept them off with his bayonet until a Ghoorka, running up, cut
down one of them with his kookerie--a heavy, sword-like knife which
the Ghoorkas carry, and which they always employ in preference to
the bayonet, in fighting at close quarters. The remaining Afghan at
once took to flight. The 29th Punjaubees had now come into action;
and the Afghans, disheartened at the loss of their position, fell
back and withdrew into the woods which cover the plateau.
At half-past seven o'clock the whole force--except the elephant
guns--had reached the plateau; and General Roberts was able to
flash the news, of the successful capture of the enemy's first
position, to Brigadier General Cobbe, who was in command of the
force which was to operate direct against the Peiwar-Khotal. A rest
was given the troops after their long march and, at half-past nine,
they again fell in for the attack upon the pine-covered slopes in
the direction of the Peiwar-Khotal. How strong were the enemy who
might be lurking there, they knew not. But it was certain that he
would fight obstinately and, in so dense a forest, much of the
advantage gained by drill and discipline is lost.
A change was made in the order of the advance. The troops who had
before led the advance, and had done the fighting, were now placed
in the rear; and the 23rd Pioneers led the way, followed by the 2nd
and 29th Punjaubees. The column crossed the plateau without
opposition, and began the ascent towards the enemy's position in
the woods. Considerable caution was needed, as no one had any
knowledge of the country, and all were ignorant of the position and
numbers of the enemy; who might, for aught they knew, be massing in
great numbers for an attack upon the front, or one of the flanks.
The line of skirmishers entered the pine wood near the rocky
hillside, and a rolling fire of musketry soon told that they were
engaged, from end to end of the line. It was slow work; for fallen
trees, rocks, and bushes everywhere hampered the advance. Still the
skirmishing line--reinforced from behind--pushed forward steadily
and, presently, cleared the Afghans off the hillside.
When the troops reached the top, they found a valley in front of
them and, from the woods on the opposite side, so heavy a musketry
fire was kept up that it was evident the Afghans intended to make a
desperate stand here. The valley--or rather ravine--was a narrow
one: fifty yards wide, at its foot; and scarce three times as much,
from brow to brow. The enemy--hidden among the trees--could not be
made out, except by their continual fire. They did not content
themselves, however, with the mere defense of their side of the
hill but, from time to time, large numbers charged down, and tried
to force their way up that held by the British. Each time, however,
when they attempted this, the Punjaubees drove them back with
slaughter.
It was clear that the Afghans were in great numbers, for their line
extended for a mile and a half along the hillside. Major Anderson
of the 23rd Pioneers, after repulsing one of these attacks, led
four companies to the assault of the Afghan position, and drove the
enemy back for some little distance; but Major Anderson fell, and
the party retired. Colonel Curry--who commanded the regiment--again
led the men forward and, for a time, a hand-to-hand fight took
place. For two hours the rifle contest continued, without
cessation. The storm of bullets was tremendous, but no very great
execution was done, on either side, both parties lying behind the
shelter of trees.
So far, no advantage had been gained by the British; and General
Roberts felt that, with the force under his command, it would be
rash to attempt to carry so strong a position, held by a greatly
superior force.
In the meantime, the attack upon the Peiwar-Khotal from the valley
had commenced. Before daylight Brigadier General Cobbe, with the
5th Punjaub Infantry and the 8th Regiment, left camp; his object
being to cooperate with the flank attack. The 8th Regiment moved
directly towards the pass, while the 5th Punjaubees climbed one of
the principal spurs between the Peiwar and Spingawi Khotals.
The ascent was extremely difficult, and it took the troops six
hours to reach the summit. During the last portion of the ascent,
they came under the fire of the enemy. When near the summit, Major
Macqueen of the 5th Punjaubees saw, through an opening in the pine
wood, the Afghan camp, with their baggage animals; which were
placed, for shelter, in the glade behind the Peiwar-Khotal. Two
mountain guns were at once brought up, and a fire opened upon the
Afghan camp. In a few minutes the tents caught fire, the animals
stampeded in all directions; and the enemy in front, seized with a
panic, began rapidly to retreat.
The Afghan troops facing General Roberts' column, when they found
their comrades on their right retreating, began to draw off, and
the fire sensibly diminished. The movement was accelerated by the
four elephant guns--which had, at length, come up--opening fire
into the pine-wood forest. As the fire slackened, a reconnaissance
of the hill was made by General Roberts and his staff; but the
result showed that the mountain was so covered with pines, and
brushwood, that it formed an almost impenetrable barrier to the
advance of troops--for the growth was so thick that it was
impossible to say in which direction any movement should be made.
The experience gained, in the last six hours of hard fighting, had
shown how difficult it was to keep command over troops scattered
along a front of half a mile long, in the forest, where nothing
could be seen beyond a radius of a few yards.
The general, therefore, determined to desist from the attempt to
force his way direct to the top of the Peiwar-Khotal; and to march
to his left and so, by menacing the Afghan line of retreat, to
hasten the movement towards the rear which had evidently begun. The
men were, therefore, brought back to the plateau to the east of the
ravine. Here they were halted for a time, and the contents of their
haversacks furnished them with a meal.
At two o'clock they again drew up on the Spingawi plateau. The 2nd
Punjaub Infantry being left on the hill, to oppose the Afghans,
should they again advance in that direction; the rest of the column
entered the defile leading into the Hurriab valley, far in the rear
of the Peiwar-Khotal. As soon as the enemy--who were still opposing
the 2nd Punjaub Infantry--saw the head of the column enter the
defile, they were seized with a panic lest their retreat should be
cut off; and began to retreat with the greatest haste, as they had
to make their way across two mountain ridges, before they could
pass the spot towards which our troops were moving. The advance of
the column, however, was necessarily slow; as the woods and side
valleys had to be carefully examined, lest a flank attack should be
made upon them.
In two hours the head of the column emerged from the forest on to
the open slopes above the highest cultivated point in the Hurriab
valley. It was now four o'clock. The short December day was drawing
to a close. No enemy were in sight, for their line of retreat was
hidden in the bed of the stream, a couple of miles further on; and
no one knew where they were to be found. The troops were much
exhausted with the want of rest, and with their heavy work--for
they had now been marching, and fighting, for eighteen hours--and
they were glad to receive the order to bivouac; although they had
no tents, or food, and the cold--as might be expected on a winter
day, at an elevation of over 9000 feet above the sea--began to be
very severe.
A number of the nearest trees were felled by the pioneers, and huge
fires were soon alight. There was still some uneasiness, as no one
knew where the force under General Cobbe was, or whether the attack
on the Peiwar-Khotal had been successful or not.
While the 5th Punjaub Infantry had been mounting the spur, halfway
between the Peiwar and the Spingawi Khotal, the 8th Regiment had
moved directly upon the pass. The Afghans, who had expected an
attack, had remained under arms until three in the morning when,
hearing no sounds in our camp, they had been dismissed to rest.
Three guns of the Royal Artillery, and two of the Royal Horse
Artillery took up their post 800 yards in front of our camp; where
their fire, at the crest of the pass, would assist the advance of
the 8th. These, after two hours' march, found themselves at seven
in the morning on the last spur, which is separated from the
Peiwar-Khotal by a deep ravine. When it became daylight, a few
minutes later, the enemy caught sight of our artillery in the
valley, and at once opened fire. Although they had six field pieces
at the top of the hill, only three had been placed in position to
command the valley and the ascent; and the mountain battery, which
had arrived the afternoon before, was not brought to the front.
The three field pieces, and the mountain gun on the spur kept up a
continuous fire on our battery, of five guns. These were, however,
almost beyond their range, and but little damage was done. On our
side, the fire was chiefly directed against the mountain gun, at
the end of the spur; and at any bodies of men who showed
themselves. The artillery duel went on for four hours and, in the
meantime, the infantry were engaged sharply with the Afghans. These
had taken up their position in the woods, on the other side of the
ravine; and kept up a continuous fire upon the 8th. The distance,
however, was too great for much execution on either side,
especially as both parties were sheltered in the woods.
About ten o'clock the Afghans were seen gathering in strength, as
if to come down across the road leading up to the Khotal, to attack
the 8th in the rear. A squadron of the 18th Bengal Cavalry charged
up the valley, and the enemy retired up the hill again and, seeing
that they could not cross the road, without the chance of being cut
up by the cavalry, they did not try to repeat the experiment.
At eleven o'clock Brigadier General Cobbe was wounded in the leg,
and Colonel Barry-Drew succeeded him in the command; receiving the
orders which had been given to General Cobbe--that the Khotal was
not to be attacked, till there was some evidence that the flank
attack had shaken the enemy's defense, in front.
At twelve o'clock the guns, with the 2nd Punjaub Infantry, alarmed
the Afghans by their fire upon the camp and, although the Afghan
guns in front kept up their fire, the musketry fire decreased
considerably. Seeing this, Colonel Drew ordered the artillery to be
brought up nearer. When--after advancing 300 yards--they came to a
ravine crossing the road, the Afghans--who had come down the hill
to meet them--opened a heavy fire and, the road being narrow, only
the leading gun could come into action. However, the two companies
of the 8th--which were acting as an escort to the guns--advanced in
skirmishing order, and drove the Afghans up the hill.
The panic among the Afghans on the plateau having now spread to the
troops at the Khotal, their fire entirely ceased; and the 8th
Regiment descended the defile, and began to climb the path to the
Khotal. Not a hostile shot was fired and, at half-past two, they
reached the enemy's camp, which they found deserted.