THE RECEPTION.
Position of Kabul. Its defences. Amîr’s opinion of the Founders
of his Capital. Entry into Kabul. Aspect of the Townsmen. Arrival
at the Arm Foundry. Visit of the Afghan Official. His appearance.
Absence of Amîr. To be received at the Palace by the Princes. The
approach to the Palace. The Amîr’s Pavilion. Page boys. The Princes
Habibullah and Nasrullah. The Reception. Internal arrangement of
Pavilion. The earthquake. Abrupt ending of the Reception. Other
buildings in the Palace.
[Sidenote: The Defences of Kabul.]
The city of Kabul, 5,780 feet above the sea, lies then at the foot of
the bare and rocky mountains forming the west boundary of the Kabul
valley, just at the triangular gorge made by the Kabul river. Through
this gorge runs the high road to Turkestan and Ghuzni. An ancient brick
wall, high, though somewhat ruined, with towers at intervals, leads up
on each side of the gorge to the summit of the Asmai and Shere Derwaza
mountains, along the latter to the Bala Hissar spur, where it joins the
fort. From the Asmai a line of hills extends west to the Paghman range.
Formerly the wall was taken across the gorge, bridging the Kabul river.
Remains of it are to be seen on a small island in the middle. The city,
therefore, was well protected on the western side--the side of danger
from invasion of the Tartars: it is comparatively unprotected on the
east, except by the Bala Hissar fort; for in those days little danger
of invasion was apprehended from India.
The city extends a mile and a-half from east to west, and one mile from
north to south. Hemmed in as it is by the mountains, there is no way
of extending it, except in a northerly direction towards the Sherpur
cantonment. It is here midway between the city and Sherpur on the north
side of the river that the Amîr has built his palace.
His Highness speaks derisively of the founders of his capital,
“Dewanas,” he calls them, “Fools to build a city of mud huts cramped
into a corner among the mountains.” One of his ambitions has been to
build a new Kabul in the fertile Chahardeh valley to the west of the
Shere Derwaza and Asmai mountains, between them and the Paghman hills.
Amîr Shere Ali had also the intention of building a new Kabul, and
“Shere pur,” the “City of Shere Ali,” was begun. However, he got no
further than three sides of the wall round it.
The desire to build a new Kabul is not surprising when one has seen the
present city. The first thing that strikes you on entering it is the
general look of dilapidation and dirtiness. Closer acquaintance shows
you how inexpressibly unclean and unhealthy an ancient Oriental city
can become.
We rode through the narrow badly-paved streets, and through the
bazaars, which were crowded with turbanned Afghans and Hindus robed
in bright colours. They moved out of the way of our rather large
cavalcade, but very few showed any appearance of curiosity; and we rode
on to the garden or orchard in the gorge between the Shere Derwaza and
Asmai mountains, where, by the side of the Kabul river, the Amîr’s
European Arm foundry has been established. This is protected on one
side by the river, on the three other sides by high walls.
[Sidenote: Arrival at the Arm Foundry.]
The entrance was through a large double wooden gate, where some
soldiers were on guard. Inside there were built along the walls a
series of rooms where tin workers, brass workers, and others practised
their handicraft. In one of the larger of these rooms Mr. Pyne and
myself were located, and an adjoining one was prepared for the two
English engineers, Messrs. Stewart and Myddleton, who had accompanied
us.
In the centre of the ground three or four large buildings were in
course of erection. These had been commenced by Mr. Pyne during his
first short visit to Kabul. The walls were nearly completed. To finish
them were the corrugated iron roofs which Mr. Pyne had brought out
from England, and the machinery, some of which was lying around packed
in cases in two hundredweight pieces: the rest arrived on strings of
camels a few days or weeks after we did.
In our room we found a large table loaded with sweets, cakes,
kaimaghchai, or cream and tea, and various other eatables. We set
to, but were presently visited and salaamed by some score or so of
Hindustani mistris, whom Mr. Pyne had engaged and sent on from India.
There was a very fair carpet on the earth-beaten floor. Our beds,
bedding, and chairs we had brought with us. A soldier was posted on
guard at our door and another on the roof.
In the space inside the enclosure unoccupied by buildings, there grew
a great many mulberry trees, and outside the walls were large beds of
flowers, vines trailed over upright poles, and a fountain. This plot
of ground had once been the garden of a wealthy Afghan gentleman.
On the day after our arrival in Kabul it rained hard, but on the
following day we received a ceremonial visit from Jan Mahomed Khan,
the treasury officer, who was accompanied by a large retinue of
servants. This gentleman was of medium height and slightly built. He
had a rather dark skin, but a very pleasant face, and was charming
in his manner. His costume was brilliant. It consisted of a black
astrakhan hat of the globular Russian shape, a purple velvet tunic
embroidered with gold, a belt and sword, both highly ornamented with
beaten gold, trousers and patent leather boots. The sword was not of
the European shape. It was made with a slight curve, had no hand guard,
and slipped almost entirely into the scabbard. Mr. Pyne was acquainted
with this gentleman, having met him during his first visit to Kabul.
I, therefore, was introduced. After the usual compliments and polite
speeches, it was intimated to us that Prince Habibullah, the eldest son
of the Amîr, would receive us at the Palace that day.
We learnt that His Highness the Amîr himself was away in Turkestan,
where he had been fighting his rebellious cousin Ishak.
[Sidenote: The Approach to the Palace.]
After Jan Mahomed Khan had politely asked permission to depart, we got
ready to go to the Palace. Our horses were brought to the door, and we
rode, accompanied by our guard and an interpreter, to the Erg Palace.
This Palace is situated outside the town, about midway between it and
the Sherpur cantonment. We rode from the workshops some little distance
along the Kabul river, then skirted the Government buildings which are
built on the south and east sides of the Palace gardens, and arrived
at the east entrance, a big arched gateway in which, however, there
were no gates. Here we left our horses. Entering the gateway we walked
across the gardens, the guard unceremoniously clearing out of our way
the clerks, pages, and petitioners who were walking along the paths.
We saw in front of us the ramparts, moat, and bridges of the Palace.
The flame-shaped battlements of the walls, and the decorated gateway
set in a semicircular recess flanked by bastions, had a quaint Oriental
appearance.
On the wall over the gateway was a small cupola sheltering what
appeared to be a telescope, but may have been a machine gun. From this
tower issues at sunrise and sunset the wild native music of drums and
horns, which is the invariable “Salaam i subh” and “Salaam i shām” of
Oriental kings. Many a morning in after years was I woke up at daybreak
by the weird monotonous howl of the horns and the distant rattle of the
drums.
We crossed the bridge in front of us and entered the decorated gateway,
the wooden gates of which--massive and studded with iron--were open.
Inside was the guard-room, large and high, with passages leading off
from it, and the soldiers of the guard were grouped idly about.
The sentry on duty with fixed bayonet was lounging in a wooden shelter
near the gates. He jumped up as we entered. We walked across the
guard-room, out into the open, and found ourselves in another garden.
On either side of the path were grass lawns and trees. The paths
were fenced off by thin iron railings. All around the gardens were
buildings symmetrically arranged: two stories high on each side of the
gateway, and one story elsewhere. We walked along the centre path,
till we came to a long high wall, with loopholes extending across the
garden, and evidently concealing other buildings; turned to the left
till we came to a small heavy wooden door studded with iron, and with
the posts and jambs somewhat elaborately carved. There was no porch,
but fixed in front of the doorway, about six feet from it, was a high
heavy wooden screen. The object of this screen I could not see, unless
it were to obstruct the view when the door was opened. Near the door
was a wooden bench for the use of those who were waiting. Between the
door and the screen we found an officer in uniform, armed with a sabre,
and several soldiers in uniform, all armed with Martini-Henry carbines
and sword-bayonets. We waited a few minutes while the officer went in
to report our arrival.
We were admitted, and I saw, standing in the middle of a flower garden,
the Amîr’s pavilion. There were roses, wallflowers, stocks, and other
sweet-smelling flowers in the garden, and the walks between the
flower-beds were paved with marble. Directly opposite was the entrance
to the pavilion, and it struck me at once why the heavy screen had been
erected outside, opposite the gate of entry to the garden; for the door
of the pavilion being open it was possible to see into the interior,
and if the door into the garden were also opened it would be possible,
without the screen, for a man in a distant part of the outer gardens
to fire a rifle straight up to the royal couch. On either side of the
steps leading up to the entrance of the pavilion reposed a marble lion.
These I found had not been carved in Afghanistan, but were imported
from India. The pavilion struck one as an extraordinary piece of
architecture in an ornate style.
[Sidenote: The Princes Habibullah and Nasrullah.]
We went up the steps into the entry, where there were several page boys
waiting. They were not dressed as Orientals, but had on astrakhan hats,
velvet tunics of different colours, embroidered with gold, trousers,
and English boots. The lobby led into a circular or octagonal hall,
with a high domed roof, and, entering it, we found ourselves in the
presence of the Prince.
His Highness was seated in an arm-chair, his brother, Sirdar Nasrullah
Khan, on his left, and several officers in a semicircle on his right.
The Prince Habibullah Khan is a broadly built somewhat stout man, and
appeared to be about twenty years of age. He is fair for an Oriental,
is shaven except for a slight moustache, has handsome features, and a
very pleasant smile. Sirdar Nasrullah Khan, who seemed about seventeen,
is of a different type. He is less broadly built than his elder
brother, and his features are more aquiline. Neither of the Princes are
tall. Habibullah Khan bears a strong resemblance to the Amîr, though he
has a smaller frame and a much milder expression than his Royal Father.
The Prince stammers slightly in his speech, and His Highness, the Amîr,
told me this affection first appeared after an attempt had been made
to poison the Prince when he was quite a child. The Princes and the
officers were dressed in European military uniforms, with astrakhan
hats, and though this was an Oriental court no one was seated on the
ground.
Contrary to Oriental etiquette we took off the turbans which we had
been wearing, for it seemed better to act according to Western ideas
of courtesy than to attempt to imitate the customs of Orientals, of
which we then knew very little. We bowed as we were introduced, and
the Prince, without rising, shook hands with us, politely enquiring if
we were well, and expressed a hope that we were not fatigued by the
journey to Kabul.
Chairs were placed for us in front of the Prince, at some little
distance, and to his left. Tea and cigarettes were brought. The Prince
spoke to us for some time, chiefly about the machinery and workshops.
He spoke in Persian, the interpreter translating.
There were four alcoves or rooms leading off from the central hall
of the pavilion, each about twelve feet square: one constituted the
lobby: in the opposite alcove, I learnt afterwards, the Amîr’s couch is
usually placed, and one led off from each side. The four rooms leading
from the central hall were not separated by doors, and over each was
a corresponding room upstairs, also looking into the central hall,
but protected by a wooden railing. The rooms were lighted by windows
opening into the garden; and the central hall by borrowed light from
the rooms. The hall, though high and domed, was not more than about
eighteen feet across, and against the four short walls that intervened
between the rooms, were placed respectively a piano with a gold
embroidered velvet cover; a carved wood cabinet; a marble table covered
with brass candlesticks and ornamental lamps of different patterns,
from England and Russia; and a dark carved wood escritoire with writing
materials on it.
As I sat facing the Prince with my back to the entry, I saw hanging on
the walls opposite me two framed chromo-lithographs--one representing
the English House of Commons and the other the House of Lords. A year
or two afterwards I became much better acquainted with this pavilion,
for I had to live there while I was attending His Highness during a
severe illness. The Amîr told me he designed it himself; I fancy he got
the idea from one of the churches in Tashkend, of which I have seen a
picture. It was small, he said, but was built as an experiment; he had
endeavoured to make it earthquake proof by bracing it with iron bands.
It cost him a great sum of money.
[Sidenote: The Earthquake.]
The Prince lit a cigarette, and just as he began smoking we heard a
most curious noise. The lamps and vases rattled violently, and I saw
the Prince’s face change. Pyne turned to me and said, “An earthquake!”
The rattling and shaking increased, the doors swung open, and our
chairs heaved. The Prince sat a moment while the noise and shaking grew
more and more severe, then suddenly he rose and walked rapidly out into
the gardens. The whole court, and we with them, followed hurriedly.
All thought the Palace would fall. With one exception it was the most
severe earthquake I ever experienced. The shock lasted four minutes,
and travelled from east to west. We returned again to the pavilion
for a short time, but presently were allowed to retire, so that the
reception ended somewhat abruptly.
As we were coming out I found there were two other enclosures in the
fort beside that containing the Amîr’s pavilion. Next to the Amîr’s
garden was the large enclosure of the Harem serai. It is not etiquette
to walk past the door of this if you can get to your destination any
other way. I had to enter this enclosure once, but that I will speak of
later.
Next to the Harem serai was a quadrangle containing the official
quarters of the Princes. Each Prince has also an establishment in the
city, where are his servants, and horses, and his harem. Besides these
enclosures there is the Treasury, the Amîr’s private Stores containing
valuables of all kinds, silks and diamonds, carpets, and wines: a row
of cook houses or kitchens: quarters for the court officials and pages;
and barracks for the garrison. The fort, though seemingly strong, and
no doubt useful in case of a sudden riot, is completely under the
control of the fort on the summit of the Asmai mountains.