... That tower of strength
Which stood four-square to all the winds that blew.
TENNYSON.
The episode with which this chapter is concerned is one that has often
occurred on the out-post line of civilisation, and which is peculiarly
frequent in the history of a people whose widespread Empire is fringed
with savage tribes. A small band of soldiers or settlers, armed with the
resources of science, and strengthened by the cohesion of mutual
trust, are assailed in some isolated post, by thousands of warlike and
merciless enemies. Usually the courage and equipment of the garrison
enable them to hold out until a relieving force arrives, as at Rorke's
Drift, Fort Chitral, Chakdara or Gulistan. But sometimes the defenders
are overwhelmed, and, as at Saraghari or Khartoum, none are left to tell
the tale. There is something strangely terrible in the spectacle of men,
who fight--not for political or patriotic reasons, not for the sake of
duty or glory--but for dear life itself; not because they want to, but
because they have to. They hold the dykes of social progress against a
rising deluge of barbarism, which threatens every moment to overflow the
banks and drown them all. The situation is one which will make a coward
valorous, and affords to brave men opportunities for the most sublime
forms of heroism and devotion.
Chakdara holds the passage of the Swat River--a rapid, broad, and at
most seasons of the year an unfordable torrent. It is built on a rocky
knoll that rises abruptly from the plain about a hundred yards from
the mountains. Sketches and photographs usually show only the knoll
and buildings on it, and any one looking at them will be struck by the
picturesque and impregnable aspect of the little fort, without observing
that its proportions are dwarfed, and its defences commanded, by
the frowning cliffs, under which it stands. In its construction the
principles of defilade have been completely ignored. Standing on the
mountain ridge, occupied by the signal tower, it is possible to look or
fire right into the fort. Every open space is commanded. Every parapet
is exposed. Against an enemy unprovided with artillery, however,
it could be held indefinitely; but the fact that all interior
communications are open to fire, makes its defence painful to the
garrison, and might, by gradually weakening their numbers, lead to its
capture.
The narrow, swinging, wire bridge across the Swat is nearly 500 yards
long. At the southern end it is closed by a massive iron door, loopholed
for musketry, and flanked by two stone towers, in one of which a Maxim
gun is mounted. On the further side is the fort itself, which consists
of the fortified knoll, a strong stone horn-work, an enclosure for
horses, protected by a loopholed wall and much tangled barbed wire, and
the signal tower, a detached post 200 yards up the cliff.
The garrison of the place consisted at the time of the outbreak of
twenty sowars of the 11th Bengal Lancers and two strong companies of the
45th Sikhs, in all about 200 men, under the command of Lieutenant H.B.
Rattray. [The actual strength was as follows: 11th Bengal Lancers, 20
sabres; 45th Sikhs, 180 rifles; 2 British telegraphists; 1 Hospital
Havildar; 1 Provost Naick (24th Punjaub Infantry); 1 Jemadar (Dir
Levies). British officers--45th Sikhs, Lieutenants Rattray and Wheatley;
Surgeon-Captain V. Hugo; Political Agent, Lieutenant Minchin.] As the
rumours of an impending rising grew stronger and stronger, and the end
of July approached, this officer practised his men in taking stations
in the event of an alarm, and made such preparations as he thought
necessary for eventualities. On the 23rd he received an official warning
from the D.A.A.G. [Deputy-Assistant-Adjutant-General. Surely
this astounding title, with that of the
Deputy-Assistant-Quarter-Master-General, might be replaced with
advantage by the more sensible and appropriate terms "Brigade Adjutant"
and "Brigade Quartermaster"!], Major Herbert, that a tribal rising was
"possible but not probable." Every precaution was henceforth taken in
the fort. On the 26th, a Sepoy, who was out sketching, hurried in with
the news that a large body of tribesmen were advancing down the valley,
and that he himself had been robbed of his compass, his field-glasses
and some money.
But, in spite of the disturbed and threatening situation, the British
officers of the Malakand garrison, though they took all military
precautions for the defence of their posts, did not abandon their
practice of riding freely about the valley, armed only with revolvers.
Nor did they cease from their amusements. On the evening of the 26th,
Lieutenant Rattray went over to Khar as usual to play polo. Just as the
game was ended, he received a letter, brought in haste by two sowars,
from Lieutenant Wheatley, the other subaltern at Chakdara, warning him
that a great number of Pathans with flags were advancing on the fort.
He at once galloped back at full speed, passing close to one large
gathering of tribesmen, who for some reason of their own took no notice
of him, and so reached the fort in safety, and just in time. Formidable
masses of men were then closing in on it. He telegraphed to the staff
officer at the Malakand reporting the impending attack. Immediately
afterwards the wire was cut by the enemy and the little garrison got
under arms.
A havildar of the Khan of Dir's Levies had promised the political
agent to give warning of any actual assault, by lighting a fire on the
opposite hills. At 10.15 a solitary flame shot up. It was the signal.
The alarm was sounded. The garrison went to their posts. For a space
there was silence, and then out of the darkness began a fusillade, which
did not stop until the 2nd of August. Immediately the figures of the
tribesmen, as they advanced to the attack on the western face of the
fort, became visible. The defenders opened fire with effect. The
enemy pressed on vigorously. Their losses were severe. At length they
retreated repulsed.
A second attack was immediately delivered against the north-east corner
and again beaten off by the garrison. At 4 A.M. a third assault was made
upon the cavalry enclosure. The tribesmen, carrying scaling ladders,
advanced with great determination. They were received with a deadly
fire. They then drew off, and the first night of the siege was
terminated by desultory firing. The garrison remained at their posts all
night, and when it became day the enemy were seen to have retired, to
the hills to the north-west, whence they maintained a ceaseless fire.
Although the defenders were protected by their stone walls, many had
strange escapes from the bullets, which fell incessantly into the
interior.
Meanwhile, in spite of the vigorous attack that was being made on the
Malakand, it had been decided to send some assistance to the little band
at Chakdara. Captain Wright and forty sowars of the 11th Bengal Lancers
with Captain Baker of the 2nd Bombay Grenadiers and transport officer
at the Malakand, started at dawn on the 27th, by the road from the north
camp. Before they had gone very far they came under the fire of the
enemy on the hills. These did not dare to venture into the plain, but
availed themselves of the broken nature of the country. As the squadron
reached the road leading to the polo ground, Captain Wright received
information that the enemy were collected on the plain and immediately
the pace was quickened in the hopes of a charge being possible. But the
tribesmen ran to the hills at the sight of the Lancers, and maintained
a constant, though luckily, an ill-aimed fire. At length the village
of Batkhela was reached, and beyond it the Amandara Pass came in sight.
This is a gap in a long spur, which runs from the southern side of the
valley to the rapid river in the middle. As the river was then in full
flood and unfordable, the only road to Chakdara lay over or through the
spur. But the pass was held by the enemy.
Captain Wright had by this time realised, what probably no one at the
Malakand then knew, that the enemy's numbers were enormous. The whole
way from Malakand to Amandara--every ridge and hill was crowned with
their banners. Wherever the ground protected them from the horsemen
they gathered thickly. Cemeteries [Cemeteries are frequent and prominent
features of Frontier landscapes. Some of them are of great extent: all
of remarkable sanctity.], nullahs and villages swarmed with men. Their
figures could be seen in all directions. Far beyond the Amandara Pass
bands of tribesmen, of varying strengths, could be observed hurrying
with their standards to the attack. But these formidable signs, far from
deterring the cavalry soldier, only added, by displaying how great was
the need of Chakdara, to his determination to force his way through at
all costs.
Under a dropping fire from the cemetery on the right of the road, a
brief consultation was held. The Amandara defile was occupied on both
sides by the enemy. With the loss of perhaps a dozen men the squadron
might gallop through. But this meant leaving all who fell, to perish
miserably, by torture and mutilation. To attempt to pick up the wounded,
would lead to the annihilation of the squadron. Any alternative was
preferable, though if there were no other way, the dash would have to be
made, and the wounded left. A Sowar now said there was a path round the
rock by the bank of the river. Captain Wright determined to take it.
The path was bad. After about half the spur had been passed, it ended
abruptly in a steep white rock. It was, in fact, a path leading to a
point where the natives were in the habit of floating across the river
upon "mussucks" (inflated skins). To go back now was to fail. Without
hesitation, the horsemen turned to the right up the hill and among the
rocks, trusting to get through somehow. After passing over ground which
would be difficult to move across on foot, they saw a gorge to their
left which appeared as if it would lead to the open plain, on the other
side of the ridge. Down this gorge forty horses huddled together, with
no room to pick their way, were scrambling and jumping from rock to
rock, apparently as conscious as their riders that their lives depended
on their cleverness--when, suddenly, the enemy appeared.
As soon as the tribesmen, who were holding the pass, saw the squadron
trot off to their right towards the river, they realised that they
intended to make a desperate effort to get through to Chakdara. They
knew what the ground was like, and confident they would kill them all,
if they could get there soon enough, ran swiftly along the spur. It was
a race. The leading tribesmen arrived in time to fire on the cavalry,
while they were in the gorge. So close were they, that the officers
used their revolvers. But the Pathans were out of breath and shot badly.
Several horses were hit, including Captain Wright's, but though the
large thigh bone was penetrated, the gallant beast held on, and carried
his rider to Chakdara safely.
By the extraordinary activity of the horses the rocks were cleared
before the enemy could collect in any strength. But, to the dismay of
all, the gorge was found to lead, not to the plain, but to a branch of
the river. A broad, swift channel of water of unknown depth confronted
the cavalry. To go back was now, however, out of the question. They
plunged in. The 11th Bengal Lancers are perhaps better mounted than any
native cavalry regiment in India. Their strong horses just held their
own against the current. Several were nearly swept away. Captain
Wright was the last to cross. All this time the enemy were firing and
approaching. At length the passage was made and the squadron collected
on an island of flooded rice fields, in which the horses sank up to
their hocks. Beyond this ran another arm of the river about fifty yards
wide, and apparently almost as deep as the first. The bullets of the
enemy made "watery flashes" on all sides. After passing this second
torrent the squadron found themselves again on the same bank of
the river as the enemy. They were in swampy ground. Captain Wright
dismounted his men and returned the fire. Then he turned back himself,
and riding into the stream again, rescued the hospital assistant, whose
pony, smaller than the other horses, was being carried off its legs by
the force of the water. After this the march was resumed. The squadron
kept in the heavy ground, struggling along painfully. The enemy, running
along the edge of the rice fields, maintained a continual fire, kneeling
down to take good aim. A sowar threw up his hands and fell, shot through
the back. Several more horses were hit. Then another man reeled in his
saddle and collapsed on the ground. A halt was made. Dismounted fire was
opened upon the enemy. The wounded were picked up, and by slow degrees
Chakdara was approached, when the Bridgehead Maxim gun compelled the
tribesmen to draw off. [For the particulars of this affair I am indebted
to Captain Baker, 2nd Bombay Grenadiers, who shared its perils.]
Thus the garrison of the fort received a needed reinforcement. I have
given a somewhat long description of this gallant ride, because it shows
that there are few obstacles that can stop brave men and good horses.
Captain Wright now assumed command of Chakdara, but the direction of
the defense he still confided to Lieutenant Rattray, as fighting behind
walls is a phase of warfare with which the cavalry soldier is little
acquainted.
At 11.30, in the heat of the day the tribesmen attacked again. They
surrounded the north and east sides of the fort, and made strenuous
efforts to get in. They suffered heavy losses from the musketry of the
defence, and their dead lay scattered thickly on the approaches. Nor
were they removed till nightfall. Many Ghazis, mad with fanaticism,
pressed on carrying standards, heedless of the fire, until they fell
riddled with bullets under the very walls.
To communicate with the Malakand was now almost impossible. To
heliograph, it was necessary that the operator should be exposed to a
terrible fire. In the evening the signal tower was surrounded by men
in stone sungars, who kept up an incessant fusillade, and made all
exposure, even for an instant, perilous.
At midday, after the repulse of the main attack, the guard of the signal
tower was reinforced by six men, and food and water were also sent up.
This difficult operation was protected by the fire of both the Maxims,
and of all the garrison who could be spared from other points. Until the
1st of August, water was sent up daily to the signal tower in this
way. The distance was long and the road steep. The enemy's fire was
persistent. Looking at the ground it seems wonderful that supplies could
have been got through at all.
As night approached, the defenders prepared to meet a fresh attack.
Lieutenant Wheatley, observing the points behind which the enemy usually
assembled, trained the fort Maxim and the 9-pounder gun on them, while
daylight lasted. At 11 P.M. the tribesmen advanced with shouts, yells
and the beating of drums. The gun and the Maxims were fired, and it is
said that no fewer than seventy men perished by the single discharge.
At any rate the assault was delayed for an hour and a half. All day long
the garrison had remained at their posts. It was hoped they would
now get a little rest. But at 1 o'clock the attack was renewed on
the north-east corner. Again the enemy brought up scaling ladders and
charged with desperate ferocity. They were shot down.
Meanwhile every spare moment was devoted to improving the cover of the
garrison. Captain Baker applied himself to this task, and used every
expedient. Logs, sand bags, stones, boxes filled with earth were piled
upon the walls. It is due to these precautions that the loss of life was
no larger.
Continuous firing occupied the 28th, and at 5.30 P.M. the enemy again
assaulted. As in previous attacks, they at first advanced by twos and
threes, making little dashes over the open ground, for bits of natural
cover, and for the stone sungars they had built all round the fort under
cover of darkness. Some of these were within 200 yards of the wall. As
they advanced the fire became intense. Then the main rush was delivered.
In a great semi-circle round the face of the fort held by the
cavalry, and displaying nearly 200 standards whose gay colours were
representative of every tribe on the border, they charged right up to
the walls. Some of them actually got across the tangled barbed wire and
were destroyed in the enclosure. But all efforts were defeated by the
garrison, and towards morning the attack melted away, and only the usual
sharpshooters remained. Some of these displayed a singular recklessness.
One man climbed up into the barbed wire and fired three shots at the
defenders at close quarters before he was killed.
Thursday morning dawned on similar scenes. The garrison employed such
intervals as occurred in strengthening their defences and improving
their cover, particularly in the approaches to the Maxim and field
gun platforms. At 3 P.M. the enemy came out of Chakdara village, and,
carrying ladders to scale the walls, and bundles of grass to throw on
the barbed wire, made a formidable effort. They directed the attack
mainly against the signal station. This building is a strong, square,
stone tower. Its entrance is above six feet from the ground. All around
the top runs a machiconlis gallery, a kind of narrow balcony, with holes
in the floor to fire through. It is well provided with loopholes. At
4 o'clock it was closely assailed. The garrison of the fort aided the
tower guard by their fire. So bold were the enemy in their efforts, that
they rushed in under the musketry of the defence, and lighted a great
heap of grass about three yards from the doorway. The flames sprang
up. A howl of ferocious delight arose. But the tribesmen relapsed into
silence, when they saw that no real harm was done. At sunset the
fore sight of the fort Maxim was shot away, and the defenders were
temporarily deprived of the service of that powerful weapon. They soon
managed, however, to rig up a makeshift, which answered all practical
purposes. At 8 P.M. the enemy wearied of the struggle, and the firing
died away to desultory skirmishing. They toiled all night carrying away
their dead, but next morning over fifty bodies were still lying around
the signal tower. Their losses had been enormous.
The morning of the 30th brought no cessation of the fighting, but the
enemy, disheartened by their losses of the previous night, did not
attack until 7 P.M. At that hour they advanced and made a fresh effort.
They were again repulsed. Perhaps the reader is tired of the long
recital of the monotonous succession of assaults and repulses. What
must the garrison have been by the reality? Until this day--when they
snatched a few hours' sleep--they had been continually fighting and
watching for ninety-six hours. Like men in a leaking ship, who toil at
the pumps ceaselessly and find their fatigues increasing and the ship
sinking hour by hour, they cast anxious, weary eyes in the direction
whence help might be expected. But none came. And there are worse deaths
than by drowning.
Men fell asleep at the loopholes and at the service of the field gun.
Even during the progress of the attacks, insulted nature asserted
itself, and the soldiers drifted away from the roar of the musketry,
and the savage figures of the enemy, to the peaceful unconsciousness
of utter exhaustion. The officers, haggard but tireless, aroused them
frequently.
At other times the brave Sepoys would despair. The fort was ringed with
the enemy. The Malakand, too, was assailed. Perhaps it was the same
elsewhere. The whole British Raj seemed passing away in a single
cataclysm. The officers encouraged them. The Government of the
Queen-Empress would never desert them. If they could hold out, they
would be relieved. If not, they would be avenged. Trust in the young
white men who led them, and perhaps some dim half-idolatrous faith in a
mysterious Sovereign across the seas, whose soldiers they were, and
who would surely protect them, restored their fainting strength. The
fighting continued.
During the whole time of the siege the difficulty of maintaining
signalling communication with the Malakand was extreme. But for the
heroism of the signallers, it would have been insuperable. One man in
particular, Sepoy Prem Singh, used every day at the risk of his life to
come out through a porthole of the tower, establish his heliograph, and,
under a terrible fire from short range, flash urgent messages to
the main force. The extreme danger, the delicacy of the operation of
obtaining connection with a helio, the time consumed, the composure
required, these things combined to make the action as brave as any which
these or other pages record. [A proposal has recently been made, to give
the Victoria Cross to native soldiers who shall deserve it. It would
seem that the value of such a decoration must be enhanced by making it
open to all British subjects. The keener the competition, the greater
the honor of success. In sport, in courage, and in the sight of heaven,
all men meet on equal terms.] Early on Saturday morning a supply of
water was sent to the guard of the signal tower. It was the last they
got until 4.30 on Monday afternoon.
When the attack on the fort began, the enemy numbered perhaps 1500 men.
Since then they had been increasing every day, until on the 1st and
2nd, they are estimated to have been between 12,000 and 14,000 strong.
Matters now began to assume a still graver aspect. At 5 o'clock on the
evening of the 31st a renewed attack was made in tremendous force on
the east side of the fort. But it was beaten back with great loss by
the Maxims and the field gun. All night long the firing continued, and
Sunday morning displayed the enemy in far larger numbers than hitherto.
They now captured the Civil Hospital, a detached building, the walls
of which they loopholed, and from which they maintained a galling fire.
They also occupied the ridge, leading to the signal tower, thus cutting
off all communication with its guard. No water reached those unfortunate
men that day. The weather was intensely hot. The fire from the ridge
made all interior communication difficult and dangerous. The enemy
appeared armed to a great extent with Martini-Henry rifles and Sniders,
and their musketry was most harassing. The party in the tower kept
sending by signal pressing requests for water, which could not be
supplied. The situation became critical. I quote the simple words of
Lieutenant Rattray's official report:--
"Matters now looked so serious that we decided to send an urgent appeal
for help, but owing to the difficulty and danger of signalling we
could not send a long message, and made it as short as possible, merely
sending the two words, 'Help us.'"
Still the garrison displayed a determined aspect, and though the
tribesmen occupied the ridge, the Civil Hospital and an adjoining
nullah, none set foot within the defences.
At length the last day of the struggle came. At daybreak the enemy in
tremendous numbers came on to the assault, as if resolute to take the
place at any cost. They carried scaling ladders and bundles of grass.
The firing became intense. In spite of the cover of the garrison several
men were killed and wounded by the hail of bullets which was directed
against the fort, and which splashed and scarred the walls in every
direction.
Then suddenly, as matters were approaching a crisis, the cavalry of the
relieving column appeared over the Amandara ridge. The strong horsemen
mercilessly pursued and cut down all who opposed them. When they reached
the Bridgehead on the side of the river remote from the fort, the
enemy began to turn and run. The garrison had held out stubbornly
and desperately throughout the siege. Now that relief was at hand,
Lieutenant Rattray flung open the gate, and followed by half a dozen
men charged the Civil Hospital. Captain Baker and Lieutenant Wheatley
followed with a few more. The hospital was recaptured. The enemy
occupying it, some thirty in number, were bayoneted. It was a finish in
style. Returning, the sallying party found the cavalry--the 11th Bengal
Lancers--checked by a sungar full of tribesmen. This they charged in
flank, killing most of its occupants, and driving the rest after
their comrades in rout and ruin. The last man to leave the sungar shot
Lieutenant Rattray in the neck, but that officer, as distinguished for
physical prowess as for military conduct, cut him down. This ended the
fighting. It is not possible to think of a more fitting conclusion.
The casualties in the siege were as follows:--
Killed Wounded
11th B.L...... 1 1
45th Sikhs..... 4 10
Dir Levies..... 1 0
Followers..... 1 2
Total, all ranks--20
This was the loss; but every man in the fort had held death at arm's
length, for seven nights, and seven days.
It is a significant fact, that, though the cavalry horses were exposed
to the enemy's fire the whole time, hardly any were killed or wounded.
The tribesmen, feeling sure that the place was theirs, and hoping that
these fine beasts would fall unto their hands alive, had abstained from
shooting them.
As far as could be ascertained by careful official inquiries the enemy
lost over 2000 men in the attack upon Chakdara.
[The following statistics as to the expenditure of ammunition may be of
interest:--
Rounds.
28th July. Maxim...... 843
" Martini-Henry... 7170
29th July. Maxim...... 667
" Martini-Henry... 4020
30th July. Maxim...... 1200
" Martini-Henry... 5530
31st July. Maxim...... 180
" Martini-Henry... 2700
This is approximately twenty rounds per man per diem. The fire control
must have been excellent.]