For Name and Fame; Or, Through Afghan Passes

The principal defense of the Khyber Pass was the fort Ali-Musjid. This fort stands on a most commanding position, on a rock jutting out from the hillside far into the valley, which its guns commanded. It was flanked by batteries erected on the hillsides, and was a most formidable position to capture. It was situated about six miles up the valley.

The force under General Browne was divided into four brigades. The first–under General Macpherson–consisted of the 4th battalion of the Rifle Brigade, the 20th Bengal Infantry, the 4th Ghoorkas, and a mountain battery. These were ordered to take a mountain road and–led by a native guide–to make a long circuit, and so to come down into the pass at a village lying a mile or two beyond Ali-Musjid.

The second brigade–under Colonel Tytler–consisting of the 1st battalion of the 17th Foot, the infantry of the Guides, the 1st Sikhs, and a mountain battery, were also to take to the hills and, working along on their crests, to come down upon the batteries which the Afghans had erected on the hillside opposite to Ali-Musjid.

The third brigade, consisting of the 81st Regiment, the 14th Sikhs, and the 24th Native Infantry; and the fourth brigade, composed of the 51st Regiment, 6th Native Infantry, and the 45th Sikhs, were to advance straight up the valley. With them was a mountain battery, a battery of Horse Artillery, one of Royal Artillery, and a battery of 40-pounders, drawn by elephants.

These brigades marched forward until they reached some rising ground in the valley, whence they could see Ali-Musjid, at a distance of a mile and a half, in front of them. The enemy at once opened fire. The gunners in the fort had been practising for some weeks, and had got the range with great accuracy; and their shot and shell fell thick along the slope. The column was therefore marched back behind its crest, and there halted; and the men were allowed to fall out and eat their dinners, as it was desired that the flanking columns of Macpherson and Tytler–which had very much further to go–should reach the positions assigned to them before the attack began.

The artillery, however, took up their position on the crest, and opened fire on the fort. The effect of the light guns was but slight, but the 40-pounders produced considerable effect on the face of the fort.

After a halt for some time, the troops were ordered to advance. The 45th Sikhs were first thrown out upon the hillside and, working their way along on the right of the valley, opened a heavy musketry fire against the Afghans in the batteries there. Presently the 51st and 6th Native Infantry joined them; while the 81st, the 24th, and 14th Sikhs worked along on the left.

The scene was one of the most picturesque ever witnessed in warfare. From the fortress, standing on the perpendicular rock in the center of the valley, the flashes of the great guns came fast and steadily; while the edges of the rock, and fort, were fringed with tiny puffs of musketry. From the rising ground in the valley, the smoke of the British guns rose up in the still air as, steadily and fast, they replied to the fire of the fort. Both sides of the steep hill slopes were lined with British infantry–the quick flash of the rifles spurting out from every rock and bush; while continuous lines of light smoke rose from the Afghan entrenchments which faced them.

Gradually the British skirmishers advanced, until they were close to the Afghan entrenchments on the hillsides abreast of the fort. So far, there was no sign that Macpherson's brigade had reached the post assigned to it, high up on the hill; or that Tytler had worked round to the village in the enemy's rear. Some attacks which were made upon the Afghans were repulsed, with loss. Major Birch and Lieutenant Fitzgerald were killed, and Captain Maclean wounded; and between thirty and forty of the rank and file were killed, or wounded. As the fort and its defenses could not have been carried by direct attack, without immense loss of life; it was determined to cease operations until morning, in order to give the flanking columns time to reach the positions assigned to them. A wing of a regiment, from each brigade, was ordered to remain on the hillside facing the Afghan entrenchments. The rest of the troops fell back a short distance, and lay down as they were, for the night.

In the meantime, the brigades of Macpherson and Tytler had encountered enormous difficulties on the line of march. The roads they had taken were mere tracks, and there were many places where it was almost impossible to get the mountain guns along. From daybreak until late at night the troops labored, unceasingly. They knew, by the dull roar echoed and re-echoed among the mountains, that their comrades below were engaged; and the thought that a failure might ensue, owing to their absence from the contest, nerved them to continued exertions.

Late at night, however, Macpherson with his brigade arrived on the top of the hill facing Ali-Musjid; and Tytler, with his column, came down into the Khyber valley in rear of the fort. But, though unopposed, their march had not been unnoticed and, late in the evening, the news reached the Afghans that the British were marching down into the valley behind them. A wild panic instantly seized them. Clothes, ammunition, guns, everything that could impede their flight were thrown away; and the garrison of Ali-Musjid, and the Afghans in the hillside entrenchments fled, a herd of frightened fugitives, up the valley. Hasty as was their retreat, they were not in time. Tytler, with his column, debouched into the valley before they had passed the spot where the mountain path descended into it; and large numbers were taken prisoners.

As at the Peiwar-Khotal, the Afghans proved themselves capable of defending a strong position, valiantly; but were converted into a mob of panic-stricken fugitives, by their line of retreat being threatened. A European army, under like circumstances, would have fallen back in good order. Their force was amply sufficient to have swept aside the little column which barred their retreat, and they would have occupied a fresh position farther to the rear, and renewed the conflict. Not so the Afghans. The capture of Ali-Musjid brought with it the entire demoralization of the Afghan army which, a few hours before, had been fully confident in its power to repulse any attack which might be made upon it.

The British continued their advance, passed through the Khyber Pass, and entered the broad valley near whose head stands the town of Jellalabad. Beyond a few shots, fired at them by tribesmen high up on the mountain side, they experienced no opposition, whatever and, a week after the fight in the Khyber, entered Jellalabad and encamped around it.

Further than this it was not intended to go, for the present. Winter was now close at hand. Between Jellalabad and Cabul were a series of most difficult passes. An army advancing up them would have immense difficulty to encounter, and might find itself cut off from India by the snows. In the Jellalabad valley the weather is mild, large stores of provisions were obtainable, and here it was determined to remain, through the winter; and to recommence the campaign, in the spring, with the advantage of the Khyber Pass–one of the keys of Afghanistan–being in our hands.

But a day or two after reaching Jellalabad–having defeated and dispersed one of the two Afghan armies–the news arrived of the capture of the Peiwar-Khotal–the second key of Afghanistan–and the utter rout of the army defending it. Thus, in little more than a week after the commencement of the campaign Sheer-Ali, the Ameer, saw the entire overthrow of the army which he had, for so many years, been occupied in organizing and training. The positions which he had deemed impregnable had both been taken, after a single day's fighting; and his capital lay virtually at the mercy of his conquerors. In one short week, his hopes and plans had been scattered to the winds.

Sheer-Ali was not wholly to be blamed. He had for many years received an annual present of money and arms, from the British government; but upon the other hand, he saw Russia marching with giant steps towards his northern frontier and, contrasting the energy and enterprise of the great northern power, with the inactivity which he may have supposed to prevail among the men who governed England, he became more and more anxious; and asked the English definitely to state whether he could rely upon them for assistance, should he be attacked by the Russians.

He received a reply from the Duke of Argyle–the British minister for India–of a doubtful nature, couched in terms which seem to have aroused his resentment. From this moment, there can be no doubt that the Ameer's course was decided upon. He was between the hammer and the anvil and, as he could obtain no guarantee of assistance from England, he determined to throw himself into the arms of Russia.

Letters were exchanged between him and General Kaufmann–the Russian viceroy in Turkestan–and the latter gave him the warmest promises of support, if he would ally himself with Russia. Although he had, for years, declined to accept a British resident at Cabul, or to allow Englishmen to enter the country; he now, believing in the power and willingness of Russia to help, received the visit of a Russian general and staff, at Cabul.

Unfortunately for the Ameer, the government of England had now changed hands; and the ministry at once sent to Sheer-Ali, to demand that he should receive a British resident. It was late in the year, and the Ameer–acting, no doubt, on the advice of his Russian friends–sought to gain time by evasive answers. The British government–who saw through the ruse–ordered the envoy to advance, with a strong escort. This obliged the Ameer to come to a final decision; and the die was cast by the escort being stopped, by force, on its arrival at Ali-Musjid.

There is no doubt that the Ameer, and his friends, calculated that it was already too late in the season for the English to gather a sufficient force, on the frontier, to force the passes held by the Afghan army before the snows. The promptness of action of the English government, the valor of their troops, and the unusually late setting in of the winter combined to overthrow the Ameer's plans. Had the campaign been delayed till the spring, there can be little doubt that the British, in their advance, would have found themselves opposed–if not by a Russian army–at least by an army led and officered by Russians, with Russian engineers and artillerymen. The promptness of their advance, and the capture of the passes and the dispersion of the Afghan armies, within a week of the opening of the campaign, altogether altered this position.

Sheer-Ali found himself a king without an army. The plains of Cabul were thronged with the panic-stricken fugitives from the Khyber and Peiwar; and Sheer-Ali started at night from his capital with his Russian friends, and made for the north; sending letter after letter ahead of him to General Kaufmann, imploring the promised aid of Russia. The rapid course of events, however, had entirely disconcerted the Russian plans.

In the spring, a Russian army might have advanced and cooperated with that of the Ameer; but the winter had set in, the distance was immense, and the Russians unprepared for instant action. The appeals of the unfortunate prince were responded to with vague generalities. He was no longer a powerful ally, but a broken instrument and, heartbroken with disappointment and failure, the unfortunate Sheer-Ali was seized by fever and died, in an obscure village, almost alone and wholly uncared for.

His son Yakoob Khan–who had, in his youth, proved himself a brave and able soldier; but who, having incurred his father's displeasure, had been for years confined as a prisoner at Herat–was now liberated, and took his place as his father's successor. He saw at once that, with a broken and disorganized army, he could not hope to resist the advance of the three British armies which, coming from Jellalabad, from the heights of the Shatur-Gardan, and from Candahar, would simultaneously advance upon his capital, as soon as the snows melted. He therefore opened negotiations and, early in May, himself descended from Cabul and had an interview with General Browne, at Gundamuk; when the preliminaries of peace were arranged, and signed.

The terms insisted upon by the British were not onerous. Yakoob was recognized as the Ameer of Afghanistan, the annual subsidy paid to his father was to be continued. The Khyber Pass and the Khurum valley, as far as the Peiwar-Khotal, were to remain in the hands of the British; and a British minister was to be stationed at Cabul. When peace had been signed, the greater portion of the British army retired to India; and the Khurum column, leaving two or three regiments in that valley, also fell back.

While the first and second divisions had been gaining victories in the Khyber and Khurum valleys, the column under General Stewart had met with difficulties of another kind. Between the Indus, and the foot of the range of mountains through which the Bolan Pass leads to the lofty plateau land above, a great waste of sand stretches. In the wet season, this tract of country is overflowed by the Indus. In the dry season it is a parched and bare desert, with its wells few and far apart. There were great difficulties met with in crossing this inhospitable plain, and the losses among the baggage animals were great; but the labors up to this point were as nothing, to those which had to be undergone on the way up the Bolan Pass.

This pass–whose ascent occupies three days–is in fact the mere bed of a stream, covered deeply with boulders and stones of all sizes, in which the baggage and artillery horses sank fetlock deep. The difficulties encountered were enormous, and vast numbers of camels, horses, and bullocks died by the way. Even with a double complement of horses, it was almost impossible to drag the guns up the deep, shingly pass; and great delays were experienced, before the force intended for operations against Candahar were assembled, at Quettah. So far, the advance had taken place through British territory, as Quettah has long been occupied by us.

When the advance began, it was rapid. No opposition was experienced by the way, until the column arrived within a few hours' march of Candahar; and then the enemy's attack was feeble, and easily repulsed. On the 9th of January, General Stewart entered the city.

Candahar, though not the capital, is the chief town of Afghanistan. It stands in a slightly undulating plain; and was, at one time, a city of great importance and wealth. Its position is the most important in Afghanistan. It bars the road to an enemy advancing from the north, through Herat; and threatens the flank and rear of one advancing against India, through Cabul. The country around is extremely fertile and, were irrigation properly used, and a railway constructed to India, Candahar and the surrounding country would again become one of the gardens of the world.

The authorities of the city made their submission, as the column approached it, and the army settled down to quiet occupation; broken only by isolated attacks, upon individual soldiers, by fanatical Ghazis. When peace was concluded, one of the conditions distinctly insisted upon by the British general, and agreed to by the Ameer, was that Candahar should remain in our possession. The alleged advantage thus gained, and the territory thus acquired, were afterwards abandoned by the British government succeeding that which had so vigorously carried out the war.

The occupation of Candahar by the British had been insisted on, at first, on the ground that, if Russia should make an advance against India, the British nation would have ample cause to rue the cession of Candahar; for it was declared that with this city strongly fortified, and surrounded by outlying works, 10,000 British troops there could arrest the progress of an invading army, however large, until England had had full time to put forth all her strength, and to assemble an army amply sufficient to secure the safety of the most valuable of our possessions–the empire of India.

It was said that, whatever allies Russia might have prepared for herself, by intrigues among the princes of India, these would not think of moving, so long as they knew that the fortress of Candahar remained as a British bulwark against an invading force. It was represented that, so long as this place held out, England would be able to devote her whole force towards repelling the foreign invader–instead of being obliged, simultaneously, to oppose him and to put down a formidable rising in India, itself.

It was, however, not the universal opinion that the best policy of England was to occupy this territory by an armed force; and subsequent events, with the change of government in England, led to a different determination.

Chapter 13: The Massacre At Cabul

At each village through which William Gale and his escort passed, the inhabitants turned out, and hooted and yelled at the prisoner; and it was with the greatest difficulty that the chief protected him from personal violence. William himself was scarce conscious of what was passing. The swinging action of the camel added to his great weakness, and he would not have been able to keep his seat on its back, had not his captors fastened him with ropes to the saddle. Although the snow had only just melted on the Shatur-Gardan Pass, in the valleys below the heat of the sun was already great and, often as it poured down upon him, he lapsed into a state of semi-consciousness; and drowsily fancied that he was again in his canoe, tossing on the tiny waves, in the shelter of the reef.

On the sixth day after the start, a shout from his guard aroused him, as they emerged from a steep ascent amongst some hills. Before him an undulating ground, dotted with villages, stretched for three or four miles. At the foot of some steep hills, to the left of a wide valley, was a large walled town which he knew to be Cabul. On the hillside above it was a strong building: half fort, half palace. This was the Bala-Hissar, the abode of the Ameer, and the fortress of Cabul. In addition to the king's residence it contained barracks, store houses, magazines, and many residences. Towards this the cavalcade made its way.

They halted two miles from the town, and the chief sent his son forward to the Ameer, to inform him that he had brought in an English prisoner; and to request that an escort might be sent out, lest he should be killed by the people on approaching the town. An hour after the man had left, a troop of cavalry sallied out from the gate of the Bala-Hissar, and rode rapidly to the spot where the party had halted. Surrounding the camel on which William Gale was mounted, they conducted it to the fortress.

When he was lifted down from his camel, Will was unable to stand. Fever had set in again, and he was conveyed to an apartment in a house near the royal residence. The Ameer was already negotiating with the British, and orders were consequently given that the prisoner should receive every attention. The king's own doctor was ordered to attend him, and two attendants were told off to take charge of him. The old chief received a recompense, for the care which he had taken of the prisoner, which fully answered to his expectations; and he returned home well satisfied with the success of his policy.

For weeks, Will lay between life and death; and he was a mere skeleton when, two months after his arrival, he was able for the first time to sit up at the window, and look across the valley. Very gradually, he recovered strength. He was well supplied with food, and especially enjoyed the delicious fruits for which Cabul is celebrated.

His attendants were a old man and his son, the latter a lad of some fifteen years of age. The father did his duty, because ordered to do so; but his scowling face often showed the hatred which he felt of the Kaffir. The lad, however, took kindly to his patient. He it was who for hours together would, while Will was at his worst, sit by his bedside, constantly changing the wet cloths wrapped round his head, and sometimes squeezing a few drops of the refreshing juice of some fruit between his parched lips; and as his patient turned the corner and became slowly convalescent, his pleasure over the life he had saved, by his care, was very great.

Like most soldiers in the expeditionary force, Will had picked up a few words of Afghan; and had greatly increased his stock, during the time he lay in the hut in the mountains. Alone now all day with the boy, with nothing to do but to look out on the town below, and the wide valley beyond, he made rapid progress; and was, by the time he was strong enough to walk alone across the room, able to hold some sort of conversation with his friend–for so he had come to regard his devoted attendant.

One morning the boy came into the room in a state of great excitement.

"English officers are coming," he said, "with soldiers."

"But I thought it was peace," Will exclaimed, delighted. "You told me peace had been signed, at Gundamuk, two months ago."

"Yes, it is peace," the boy said. "The officers are coming in friendship, to be here with the Ameer."

Will was greatly moved at the news. When he had heard, six weeks before, that peace was signed, he had begun to hope that, some day or other, he should again be able to return to India; but the news, that some of his countrymen were close at hand, almost overcame him.

The next day, which was the 24th of July–although Will had lost all account of time–he saw vast numbers of people out on the plain; and presently, far away, he beheld a large body of horsemen. These, the lad told him, were the Ameer and his bodyguard, accompanied by the English officers. Cannon were fired in salute, and the garrison of the Bala-Hissar stood to their arms and, presently, Will saw a cavalcade riding up from the gate of the fortress. First came some Afghan cavalry; then rode a tall and stately man, whom the boy told him was the Ameer. But Will had no eyes for him. All his thoughts were centered on the white officer who rode beside him: Major Sir Lewis Cavagnari, the English envoy. Behind, among the chiefs of the Ameer's suite, rode two or three other English officers; and then came a detachment of some twenty-five cavalry, and fifty infantry of the Guides, a frontier force consisting of picked men.

As they passed near his window, Will stood up with his hand to his forehead, in salute. Major Cavagnari looked up in surprise, and spoke to the Ameer. The latter said a few words in reply, and then the cavalcade rode on to the palace. Ten minutes later two of the Ameer's attendants entered, and told Will to follow them.

He had that morning, for the first time since his arrival in Cabul, put on his uniform. He was still very weak but, leaning one hand upon his attendant's shoulder, he followed the messengers. He was conducted to a large room in the palace, where the Ameer and his adviser, and the British officers were sitting.

"Well, my lad," Major Cavagnari said, kindly, "I hear you have had a bad time of it. The Ameer tells me that you were taken prisoner near Ali-Kheyl, that you were badly wounded, and that after the snow melted you were brought down here. He says he gave orders that everything should be done for you, but that you have been very ill, ever since."

"I have been treated very kindly, sir," Will said, "and I am now getting round. I owe my life chiefly to the care and attention of the lad, here, who has watched over me like a brother."