ASSASSINATION.
No special correspondent had ever, or has ever, penetrated beyond the
Indus and into the wilds of Kohistan, to saturate the English papers
with narratives of the terrible scenes which we are about to describe
in some of these pages.
Leaving the cantonments by the centre gate which faced the hills of
Siah Sung, Denzil, Waller, and the officers who had joined them,
Captains Mackenzie, Lawrence, and Trevor, now rode to where a group
of others surrounded one on horseback, who proved to be the Envoy,
who had with him a Hindoo syce, or groom, leading a marvellously
beautiful Arab horse, which he meant to present in our Queen's name
to the Sirdir. With all his avowed confidence in the latter, he had
requested that, in case of any unforeseen emergency arising, the 51th
Native Infantry, the Shah's 6th regiment and two field pieces should
be in readiness for instant service; but so greatly was General
Elphinstone debilitated, alike in mind and body, that no order to
this effect was issued; so the men remained idle in their bungalows,
though it was known that the cowardly Shah Sujah, who had eight
hundred ladies, the flower of all his country, shut up with him in
the Bala Hissar, was so apprehensive of the result of the meeting,
that he coolly sent orders through his Kadun Kahia (or Mother of the
Maids) placed in authority over them, that they should, if the rebels
under Ackbar got into the city, be each and all prepared to take a
deadly poison within an hour.
"Look alive, Denzil--waken up; here is the representative of Her
Britannic Majesty in this pleasant part of the world," said Waller to
his abstracted friend, while laughing and saluting, he approached Sir
William Macnaghten, Baronet, who, for his great political services,
had just been appointed Governor of Bombay, and who was in full
diplomatic uniform, elaborately laced with silver embroidery, and had
several jewelled orders glittering on his breast.
Like many men whom a perilous adventure or a sudden fate menaces, he
was in excellent spirits this morning, and was by no means disposed
to listen to the warnings of the solemn-visaged Wuzeer, who was
relating all that he and Denzil had overheard in the Mosque of Baber.
Captain Mackenzie also stated that there was certainly a plot laid by
Ackbar for his destruction; but Macnaghten would listen to neither
advice nor remonstrance.
"I must meet him," said he, "and already he and the chiefs are on the
ground to consult about whether we shall remain here in peace or
retire beyond the Indus; and you will see how I shall snub even such
a fellow as Ackbar Khan," he added, lifting his cocked hat and bowing
gracefully to the ladies who were gathering in numbers above the
rampart of the Siah Sung gate, and all were busy with their
opera-glasses, looking towards the east bank of the Cabul river,
where, about a quarter of a mile distant, were clustered a group of
Afghan horsemen, their brightly coloured flowing dresses and
burnished weapons making a brilliant show in the sunshine.
In common with Captain Lawrence and Captain Trevor of the 3rd Light
Cavalry, Waller begged the Envoy to consider well these repeated
warnings, but the latter only laughed and said,
"Bold as he is--and even in this wild country there is none perhaps
bolder--Ackbar dare not molest me."
"Be not over confident, Sir William: remember his remorseless
character, and the homicides he has committed."
"I have my pistols."
"So have we all; but consider your wife--consider Lady Macnaghten, if
you perish as Sir Alexander Burnes perished!"
Macnaghten's lip quivered slightly, and he glanced to where the row
of fair English faces, the flutter of ribbons, veils, and gay
bonnets, were all visible above the dark slope of the cantonment
wall; but he concealed his rising emotion or anxiety by an angry
outburst.
"I do not ask _you_, Captain Waller, to accompany me; Mackenzie,
Lawrence, and Trevor are enough to be in front of the lines, if you
think the risk so great."
Waller's open and ruddy countenance lowered and grew pale.
"Risk, Sir William!" said he, greatly ruffled, "of course there is
risk, otherwise I should not be here as a volunteer."
"Nor I," added Denzil, glancing towards a certain blue crape bonnet,
and detecting Audley's cocked hat very close thereby.
"Nor I," exclaimed the black-whiskered Polwhele, who had hitherto
been intent on the points of the Arab courser.
"Come on then, gentlemen--the more the merrier, and a little time
must solve all."
The Wuzeer sadly shook his head, and saying,
"As Darrah said of the hypocrite Aurungzebe, 'Of all my brothers most
do I fear the teller of beads,' so say I of Ackbar;" and almost
rending his beard as he went, this loyal minister of a most unpopular
king retired into one of the forts to wait the event, while the Envoy
laughingly spurred his horse and with his companions rode towards the
group of Afghan Chiefs, around and in the rear of whom their armed
followers were every moment increasing in number and excitement, as
fresh horsemen accoutred with spear and shield, matchlock and sabre,
came galloping from the gates of the city, uttering menacing and
tumultuous cries, which could not fail to make the hearts of the
ladies in the fortified camp to throb with apprehension.
The Envoy, with his little Staff, after crossing the canal by the
bridge near an old and abandoned fort, advanced more leisurely
towards where Mohammed Ackbar Khan, and many other great Chiefs,
among whom were Shireen Khan of the Kussilbashes, on his towering
camel, and Ameen Oollah Khan, were posted a little way in front of an
armed, dark-visaged, and stormy-looking throng.
The last-named individual, Chief of Loghur, perhaps equalled Ackbar
in cruelty; and it may be sufficient to illustrate his character to
state, that in order to get rid of an elder brother who stood between
him and the inheritance, he caused him to be seized and buried up to
the chin in densely packed earth. Around his neck was then looped a
rope, the end of which was haltered to a wild horse, which was driven
round him in a circle, until the unhappy victim's head was torn from
his shoulders, as a testimony of how Ameen Oollah Khan protested
against the law of primogeniture.*
* Lieutenant Eyre's Narrative.
Conspicuous among all by his stature and deportment, the Prince
Ackbar was magnificently attired in a camise of shawl pattern, all
scarlet and gold; his plumed cap was of blue and gold brocade, with a
fall and fringe that drooped on his right shoulder. He was armed
only with his sabre, a poniard, and a pair of magnificent pistols,
which Sir William Macnaghten had presented to him on a former
occasion; but Ameen Oollah Khan, Shireen, the Kussilbash, the other
chiefs, and all their followers, especially the Ghilzies, were
accoutred to the teeth, with the arms usually borne by Afghan
horsemen--a heavy matchlock with a long bayonet, a sabre, a
blunderbuss, three long pistols, a dagger, four or five knives, a
shield on the back, and a comical complication of bullet-bags,
powder-flasks, priming-horns, and other things dangling at their
girdles; and warlike, ferocious, and formidable-looking fellows they
were, save their firearms, unchanged in aspect and in nature as their
forefathers who dwelt on the mountains of Ghore, in the days when the
Scots and English were breaking each other's heads on the field of
Northallerton.
It was a strange scene, and picturesque in all its details.
On one side a few fair-faced English officers in full uniform, with
glass in eye and cigarette in mouth, cool, quiet, and secretly rather
disposed to "chaff the niggers"--men of that type of whom Bob Waller
might be taken as the representative, frank, fearless, and
light-hearted, with his honest blue eyes and those long, fair
whiskers which Mabel Trecarrel thought so adorable--quite as much so
as he deemed her tresses of ruddy, golden auburn; on the other, a
horde of those hardy warriors from the hills of Kohistan--men whose
ideas were beyond the middle ages of the world's history, with their
hearts full of proud disdain, rancorous hate, and all the malignant
treachery that adversity of race, religious fanaticism, and profound
ignorance can inspire, and yet suavely dissembling for the time.
"Permit me, Khan, to present you with this horse, in the name of Her
Majesty the Queen of England, with her wishes that you may long be
spared to ride him," said Sir William Macnaghten, with a profound
salaam, after he and his companions drew close to the carpet on which
Ackbar awaited them. He then alighted from his horse and seated
himself, together with Captains Trevor, Lawrence, and Mackenzie, upon
a piece of carpet, among the chiefs and sirdars; but, luckily for
themselves, Waller, Denzil, and the rest remained in their saddles,
at a little distance. The Sirdir coldly and haughtily thanked the
Envoy for his new gift, the points of which he praised with all a
horseman's perception. It cost Sir William 3000 rupees, and had
belonged to Captain Grant, the Assistant Adjutant-General. Then with
an eye to any confusion that might ensue during the Conference, he
ordered the Hindoo syce to lead it off at once towards the city, and
a sly, cruel gleam came into his black eyes, as this was done. After
a few solemn salutations in oriental fashion and phraseology, Ackbar
Khan said--
"Bismillah! let us talk."
All the chapters in the Koran, except nine, commence with this word,
which signifies, "In the name of the merciful God;" thus it is
incessantly used in conversation by the Arabs, and still more by the
somewhat canting Afghans.
He then proceeded to business at once, by asking the Envoy if he was
prepared to effect a proposition that had before been made, to the
effect that we should deliver up the Shah Sujah, with all his
household and family, male and female, to his--the Sirdir's--mercy;
that we should lay down our arms and colours, yielding also cannon
and horses, together with those two obnoxious sahibs, Sir Robert Sale
and Brigadier Shelton, as hostages--in fact, an unconditional
surrender--in virtue of which he should graciously pardon our
appearance in Afghanistan, our interference with its affairs, and
permit our whole force to retire with their lives, on the further
condition of swearing to return no more!
"Such proposals," said Sir William, endeavouring to preserve his
temper, "are too dishonourable for British troops to entertain. You
know not, Sirdir, the men you speak to, and if you persist----"
"Ah, if we persist, what then?"
"We shall simply appeal to arms."
"You Feringhees are proud," said Ackbar, scoffingly; "but Allah
punishes the proud and humbles them."
He breathed hard as he spoke, and the splendid jewels on his breast
heaved with each excited respiration as he strove to restrain his
fiery temper; but his dark eyes sparkled, and his teeth glistened
like those of a wild animal.
"I have to lament, Khan," resumed Sir William, "that relations of
friendship which have hitherto existed between your people and us
have been clouded; and I am ignorant wherefore it should be so.
Good-will towards the people of Afghanistan caused my mistress, the
Queen of England, to lend her aid----"
"In dethroning my father, Dost Mohammed Khan," interrupted Ackbar,
with sombre fury.
"In restoring Shah Sujah to the throne of his ancestors," continued
Macnaghten, heedless of the pointed interruption; "and now, Khan, I
beseech you to remember that I received your royal father's sword at
yonder gate of Cabul, when he rode in, a hunted fugitive, after his
escape from the Emir of Bokhara, and I saved his life, sending him
with all honour to Calcutta, when I might have slain him."
"I have not forgotten it, Kaffir, and would rather you had cut him to
pieces, than made him a dependent on your bounty."
Sir William took no heed either of the injurious epithet or the
prince's somewhat unfilial wish.
"The paths of the just are rugged like yonder hills of Kohistan; yet
the snowy peaks are nearer Allah than the plain around us," said
Ackbar, in true Afghan phraseology.
"I know that, Khan; but----"
"Peace! You Kaffirs pretend to know all things, whereas ye know
nothing. How can it be else, when ye know not the blessed Koran?
You can be grasping and cruel, however, and well know how to be so.
Was it not your secret intention to send Ameen Oollah Khan, Skireen
Khan, and even me, chained, as slaves to your Queen, a Kaffir woman,
in her little island, which, Abdallah the Hadji tells us, is a mere
spot of mud amid a misty sea?"
"It was a lie of the Ghilzie chiefs," replied Sir William, becoming
uneasy at the decidedly offensive tone so rapidly assumed by the Khan.
"There is but one God, and before Him none other did exist," resumed
the royal hypocrite; "He formed seven heavens, seven worlds, and
eighteen creations, and He sent his friend Mohammed as the Prophet to
mankind; and by every hair in that Prophet's beard I swear to see you
brought low--very low, and to exult over you."
"Perhaps so, Khan--you are younger than I," replied the other,
affecting to misunderstand the ominous threat.
"You will not accept our terms?"
"It is impossible; as I have said, they are too dishonourable."
"Then, while the Khyberees guard the passes, we shall starve you in
yonder cantonments, till the horses gnaw each other's tails, and the
tent-pegs too, for very hunger; till the babe shall suck in vain for
milk at its dying mother's breast, and the jackals and pariah dogs
shall gorge themselves with the flesh of camels, of horses, and those
who are lower yet than even the beasts of the field--the accursed of
the Prophet!"
Ere Macnaghten could reply to this remarkable outburst, an officer
(Captain Lawrence) drew near, and called his attention to the great
number of armed men who had been gradually stealing in between them
and the gate of the cantonments, and suggested that they "should be
ordered to withdraw."
"No," exclaimed Ackbar, starting to his feet; "they are all in the
secret; _begeer! begeer!_" (seize--seize).
At these words, as if they had been a given signal, the Envoy,
Captains Trevor, Lawrence, and Mackenzie were seized by a crowd of
Afghans, and were so completely taken by surprise, that their swords,
pistols, and epaulets were torn from them before they could strike a
blow in their own defence.
With an expression of indescribable ferocity in his dark face, Ackbar
grasped Sir William with his own hand, and proceeded to drag him
violently and by main strength down a bank towards the Cabul river.
"Ah! Kaffir," said he, tauntingly, "you think to take my country, do
you?"
"For God's sake, beware!" exclaimed the unfortunate man, making all
the resistance that rage, just indignation, and fear of a sudden
death, such as that endured by his friend Burnes, would inspire; so
finding it impossible to carry him off, Ackbar shot him dead with one
of the beautiful pistols, a present from his victim; and ere the
corpse touched the ground it was impaled by a hundred swords and
bayonets. The head was then hewn off and upheld by the hair.
Captain Trevor, of the 3rd Bengal Cavalry, also fell, the victim of
innumerable wounds. Mackenzie and Lawrence were borne off towards
the city by one horde of fanatics, while another, led by Ameen Oollah
Khan, with juzails cocked and swords drawn, and with flashing eyes
and infuriated faces and gestures, uttering screams of
"Kaffirs--Feringhees--Sugs!" (infidels--Europeans--dogs), rushed upon
Waller, Denzil, Polwhele, and two other officers, who could hear the
shrill cries of dismay uttered by the ladies on the wall of the
cantonments, where now, when it was too late, old Elphinstone had
ordered the drums to beat to arms, and General Trecarrel brought the
cavalry, half-saddled, from their stables.
"Stick close to me, Devereaux," cried Waller, shortening his reins
and raising himself in his stirrups. He escaped two juzail balls,
and parried a most vicious poke of a lance made at him by Shireen
Khan; and then by one tremendous blow, which, however, fell
harmlessly on the thick folds of the loonghee or scarlet cap of that
personage, he tumbled him from his perch on the camel's hump. The
next blow he gave rid Denzil of Abdallah, the Arab Hadji, who,
shouting "Mohammed resoul Allah!" had actually sprung, with all the
fierce activity of a tree-tiger, upon his horse's crupper, and was
about to plunge an Afghan dagger--a formidable weapon, as it is
twenty-four inches in length, broader than a sword-blade, and sharp
as a razor--into his back or throat; it only grazed his neck,
however, when Waller's sword, with all the impetus that strength of
arm and speed of horse could give it, was through and through the
body of the savage fanatic.
"There is another nigger sent to the other end of nowhere," cried
Waller. "Dash right through them, gentlemen; we must cut for our
lives!"
Riding close together and abreast, the five officers, making a charge
right through the mob (who were chiefly Ghilzees, and who, in their
blind fury, wrath, and confusion, wounded and shot each other),
succeeded by hard riding in reaching the cantonments, the gates of
which were instantly closed and barricaded.
Polwhele left his sword in one man's body, so firmly was it wedged in
the spinal column. Waller's sword was only one of the rubbishy
regulation blades of Sheffield, a poor weapon when opposed to the
keenly tempered sabres of those Afghan warriors, yet towering over
them all, his bulk, strength, and stature had availed him greatly; he
had shot two, and cut down three. Denzil, though half stunned by
confusion at the suddenness of the whole affair, and by the explosion
of a matchlock close to his face, struck about manfully, and must
have sent at least one Mussulman on his way to the dark-eyed girls of
paradise; for when he dismounted, breathless and excited, within the
gates, he found his sword and right hand both covered with blood.
In the exasperation of his mind at Rose Trecarrel, the tumult of the
time was a relief to Denzil's mind; and he was not sorry that she,
through her lorgnette, had seen him, sword in hand, among the Afghans.
On this conflict the poor ladies had gazed, with faces paled by
terror, and lips that were mute, save when a shriek escaped them
involuntarily as blood spirted upward in the air, as a man or horse
went down, yet they gazed with the strange fascination that the
ferocity of a conflict between men--more than all armed men--will
sometimes have for the gentlest woman, for it seemed a species of
wild phantasmagoria. But they wrung their hands and wept piteously;
for they saw the terrible butchery of Sir William Macnaughten and of
Captain Trevor, and could only tremble for the too-probable fate of
Captain Lawrence and Captain Mackenzie, who, in sight of the entire
troops in the cantonment, and in sight of all their friends, were
borne off captives amid a yelling horde, whose weapons, spear-heads,
crooked sabres, and polished horseshoes, flashed out brightly from
amid a cloud of dust that rolled away towards the Lahore Gate of the
now-hostile city of Cabul.
"Well, this is a shindy that will suffice to scare our blue devils
for awhile," said Polwhele, with a grim smile on his dark face.
"Denzil, my boy," said Waller, "you had a narrow squeak for your
life; that Arab wasp's dagger was pretty close."
"I have no words to thank you," replied Denzil, breathlessly, and
turning away somewhat bluntly from Audley Trevelyan, who frankly came
to shake his hand in token of congratulation; for their escape was
almost miraculous--without wounds, too.
Lady Sale was thanking Heaven that her husband was safe in
Jellalabad, and Mabel Trecarrel made a pretty plain _exposé_ of what
her emotions were on beholding Waller safe.
"Mr. Devereaux," said a voice that made his heart thrill--"Denzil,
thank God you have escaped! But, Heavens! your hands are all over
blood; it is horrible!"
There was infinite tenderness in the tone of Rose. It is the slavery
of great love to be ever very humble. The lad blessed her in his
heart; yet her honeyed accents, though they recalled the joy of
yesterday, could not remove the sting of that morning's mockery which
still was sore and rankling.
"Poor Trevor, and all the rest, God help them!" exclaimed General
Trecarrel, and many others, who had no hope now save in vengeance;
but, ere nightfall, Taj Mohammed stole into the cantonments with some
final tidings.
The body of Sir William, who was a brave, good, and highly
accomplished gentleman, had been ignominiously stripped and hung,
with all its gaping wounds, in the Char Chouk, or Great Bazaar, where
Denzil had so nearly lost his life; and the head was taken by a khan,
named Nawab Zuman, and, together with one of the hands, exhibited
with ferocious triumph to Captain Conolly, an officer who had
unfortunately fallen into their power, and whose brother, with Major
Stoddart, afterwards perished miserably under torture in the dungeons
of the Emir of Bokhara.
The other two officers were detained as prisoners by Ackbar Khan.
General Trecarrel, who had just come in from the Bala Hissar with an
escort of the 5th Cavalry, was furious, and wished the cantonment to
open with round shot, grape, and canister, on everything and
everybody within their range; but grave consideration was necessary
now--our little force was so isolated in that hostile land. At the
time these events were occurring, the remains of Sir Alexander
Barnes's body, cut in pieces, were still hanging on the trees of his
garden as food for the vultures, and Ackbar Khan was driving in the
Char Chouk, in the carriage of Sir William Macnaughten, whose head he
hung there in a _bhoosa_ bag (or forage-net) till it could be
transmitted by a _tchopper_, or mounted messenger, to the Emir of
Bokhara; and the poor ladies in the cantonments looked at each other
with blanched faces, as they heard of those terrible things.
So closed the night of the 23rd December over our troops in far-away
Cabul.