CHITRAL AND THE GORDONS AT DARGAI
(1895-1898)
Come gather, come gather, ye lads o’ the heather,
An’ down thro’ the glen in the pipers’ wake;
Baith gentles and commons, gie heed tae the summons,
An’ haste tae the muster make.
Macpherson’s comin’, Cameron’s comin’,
Campbell, MacNeill, an’ the men o’ the island;
An’ a’ tae enlist in the Gordons, the best,
An’ the brawest o’ lads in the Highlands.
_The Cock o’ the North._
We must now return to the year 1895, to follow one of those little wars
that flare up intermittently on the frontiers of our vast Empire, and
accompany the Gordons through the campaign that is best known for the
dramatic moment at Dargai. Minor campaigns such as these are not of the
first importance from the military point of view, nor should the name of
a great regiment be associated too closely with a single episode, but
they have this value, that they have enabled our soldiers to keep in
training for great and laborious campaigns such as the Boer War, already
looming dark upon the horizon of history.
The initial fighting at Chitral proved to be the beginning of a great
deal of guerilla warfare on the North-West frontier of India. Chitral
had become united to our Indian Empire in 1848; but the Government took
no particular part in controlling the country, the consequence being
that when Umra Khan, ruler of Bajour, decided to dispute our suzerainty,
war was proclaimed. Umra Khan acted with all promptitude, and at the
beginning was rewarded with some success, besieging an English garrison
in Fort Chitral in January 1895. On the 1st of April Sir Robert Low,
accompanied by a force of 15,000 men, amongst whom were the Gordon
Highlanders and the Seaforths, crossed the border country with all speed
and rushed the outposts of the enemy on the 3rd of April. It was a
hazardous expedition, and the troops in their haste were permitted to
carry very few stores or ammunition or tents. Major Bland Strange, in
his interesting narrative of the campaign, has written: “The bones of
the expedition, like those of the first ill-starred one to Cabul, were
also to whiten the passes. The desperate valour of the hillmen,
starvation, Afghan guile, and Russian intrigue were to smite us. But the
good organisation and reticent generalship of Low, the dash of Kelly,
the dogged defence by Robertson, and the steady courage of our troops
falsified pessimistic prophecy.”
There were two important passes in the enemy’s country held by the
Pathans, who were in a strong position behind defences along the slopes
of the hills some 3000 feet above the advancing troops. In order to
carry the position the slope must be rushed under the sniping fire of
the enemy.
The Sikhs set out on this perilous business, while the Gordons marched
up the centre of the Pass, and then, cutting away to the right, set
their faces to the hill-side. They provided an easy mark for the enemy,
but the advance was never checked, and when the ridge was reached a
hand-to-hand conflict took place. Once on top the Gordons and the
Scottish Borderers soon cleared the enemy out of the position. The
Gordons and the Gurkhas were then left to defend the famous Malakand
Pass, while General Low pushed on after the enemy. By dogged
perseverance and the efficiency of the artillery the British were
enabled to fight their way through to Chitral, and on April 20 marched
into the town. Umra Khan made for Afghanistan, and the campaign was
ended. A fort was built in case of further revolution, and that greatest
of all factors in civilisation—a road—was constructed to unite India
with this outlying post.
Naturally enough, the tribes who were in the neighbourhood of Chitral,
and whose country lay between it and India, were by no means pleased by
the occupation by British troops, nor did they take very kindly to the
road which meant to them their eventual subjection. For a considerable
time there were rumours of trouble, and in the end there broke out a
sudden rising of the people in the Waziri country. This was in 1897, and
so widespread was the trouble that it was not crushed until the Indian
Government had put under arms the most formidable force since the
Mutiny.
There are several factors in such tribal uprisings that carry with them
their ultimate defeat. First of all, there are always rumours of revolt
before it actually bursts into flame; secondly, the tribes find it
difficult to unite together, or even to rise at the same time—thus a
disciplined army can deal with one after another; thirdly, they have no
definite system of organisation, and—as in the case of the Afghans—are
little better than an army of snipers.
The Waziris rose first, then the Swatis under the Mad Mullah, and so on
to the Afridis and the Orakzais. Each of these tribes was capable of
putting a great many men in the field. It has been stated that the
Afridis alone could provide 30,000 men armed with modern rifles. Sir
William Lockhart with 34,000 men, including some 12,000 British troops,
amongst whom were the 1st Battalion of the Gordon Highlanders, was sent
against these Afridis. In accordance with the native custom of warfare,
the enemy took up a position at the summit of the now celebrated ridge
of Dargai, and there awaited the arrival of the British. To advance with
any safety, this pass must first of all be cleared.
The initial encounter was rather futile. The ridge was carried by storm,
and then, as the hillmen were in rapid flight, vacated again. On the
return of the British to camp, the Afridis, under the delusion that our
troops had taken fright and were in retreat, assembled again in their
thousands, and full of elation attacked them in the rear. The task of
guarding the safe return of the British troops was entrusted to the
Gordon Highlanders, who checked the rush of the enemy with consecutive
volleys. The fight went on throughout the night, and so on this day’s
fighting, though much had been gained, all had been thrown away. Dargai
had been taken, only to fall again into the hands of the enemy, and
before an advance could be made it must be retaken at the point of the
bayonet.
The withdrawal from Dargai has been bitterly blamed by critics, some of
them more carping than competent; but one thing is clear enough—the
Afridis were so encouraged by regaining the ridge that they were greatly
heartened for the next day’s fighting, and manned the heights in
expectation of victory.
Two days later the engagement was reopened, the British artillery
shelling the tribesmen’s most prominent defences, but little damage
could be done in a country so covered with rocks. The most it could
accomplish was to assist the infantry, and under the protection of the
guns the Gurkhas began the first assault. They rushed into the
bullet-swept zone that lay between the end of the pass and the ascent,
to be so harassed by the rain of fire that they were compelled to take
cover at the bottom of the slope, and there await support. The Dorsets
and the Derbys who gallantly went to their assistance, were also
compelled to take cover after a terrible punishing. The zone of fire was
concentrated on a narrow stretch of open country, which had to be
crossed before the actual ascent of the ridge began. That was the first
stage of the attack. Then the stiff climb followed, while at the top of
the ridge the Afridis waited under cover. The triumphant shouts of the
tribesmen could be heard at the initial success over the British arms,
and at this desperate situation, when three battalions were under cover,
unable to advance or retreat, the Gordons, with the Sikhs in support,
were called forward to carry the position. Colonel Mathias appealed to
his famous battalion, “Highlanders,” he cried, “the General says the
position must be taken at all costs. Men, the Gordons will storm that
Pass!” Colonel Gardyne has written that at those words “there was first
a tremendous hush—then the answering cheer assured Colonel Mathias that
his confidence was not misplaced. The bugle sounds the advance, the
pipers play, the officers cry, ‘Come!’ and a wave of kilted soldiers
bursts into the fire-swept open. Almost at once, Major Macbean fell,
shot through the thigh.... The gallant young Lamont was killed
instantaneously; Lieutenant Dingwall, wounded in four places, was
carried out of further danger by Private Lawson. The first division
reach the sheltering rocks, panting for breath; they shout, the officers
waving their swords to those behind; while Piper Findlater, though
wounded and unable to move, still inspires them with his warlike
strains. They start again, ‘the men cheering like mad,’ up the
precipitous path leading to the crest where they look for a warm
reception. But the top is reached—it forms a succession of ridges along
which the Highlanders rush unopposed, and great is the cheering as they
realise that the enemy is in full flight.”
To put it bluntly, the Afridis had not waited to dispute the position
with men who could not be stopped by bullets, and this charge in the
face of such a deadly and concentrated fire will be long considered as
courageous and splendid a story as anything in the history of the
Highland regiments. What followed can be told in very few lines. The war
against the Afridis was by no means over, but the eventual issue was
already in sight. The advance through the almost impenetrable ravines
and over the rugged hills progressed painfully, but with determination.
Peace came on April 4, 1898. It had been a memorable campaign, and one
that the troops engaged in were naturally proud to commemorate. As Sir
William Lockhart said in taking leave of them, “The boast of the tribes
was that no foreign army—Moghul, Afghan, Persian, or British—had ever
penetrated, or could penetrate their country; but after carrying three
strong positions and being for weeks subsequently engaged in daily
skirmishes, the troops succeeded in visiting every portion of Tirah, a
fact which will be kept alive in the minds of future generations by
ruined forts and towers in their remotest valleys.”
The Gordons received two Victoria Crosses for gallantry in the action at
Dargai, and established themselves, by their exploit, first favourites
in the affections of the British people.