For Name and Fame; Or, Through Afghan Passes

As the enemy advanced, our guns opened a heavy fire upon them; but it was fully an hour before their artillery replied. Then thirty guns were unmasked, and opened fire upon the British line. Under cover of this heavy fire, swarms of the enemy's irregulars advanced towards our position. When within 600 or 700 yards of the 66th, the British opened with their Martini rifles; and the shower of lead, at such an unexpected distance, checked the advance of the enemy.

For some time the artillery duel continued; but the enemy's guns were then moved on to the hills, on either side of the British position, and a terrible crossfire was opened from both flanks. At about two o'clock, the smooth-bore guns began to get short of ammunition. Only sixty rounds had been captured with them and, there being no reserve of ammunition fitting them, they ceased fire.

The position now became most serious. From the ravines on either side the Ghazis swarmed up, in vast numbers. The artillery thundered from the heights upon our troops. Some of their batteries were brought up to within very short distances; and great numbers of the enemy, keeping along the ravines sheltered from our fire, came up in the rear and seized the villages there.

The companies of Jacob's Rifles on the left; after resisting, for some time, the furious attacks of the Ghazis, began to waver. The enemy's cavalry swept down in heavy masses; while our cavalry–for some reason which has never been explained–remained inactive. The general has stated that he ordered them to charge, but that they would not do so; the cavalry affirm that they never received orders. Anyhow, at this critical moment the 3rd Scinde Horse and the 3rd Bombay Cavalry remained inactive.

The confusion amid Jacob's Rifles rapidly grew, in spite of the efforts of the officers to rally them. The Ghazis swept down upon them; and the Rifles broke in confusion, and rushed among the Bombay Grenadiers who–hitherto fighting steadily–also fell into confusion, as the Rifles and Ghazis burst into their ranks.

"This is hot work," Will Gale said to his captain, when the enemy's guns, on the heights on either side, began to play on the line of the 66th with their flank fire.

"It is, indeed," the officer answered, "and the fire of the enemy, from the edge of that ravine, is very trying. I wish to heaven the general would move us farther back. He has made a hideous mistake in fighting on such ground as this."

"It would be difficult to withdraw, now," Will said. "It would shake the confidence of the men. I think, myself, that we ought to advance, and drive the enemy before us, till we take up some really defensible position; but I doubt if the Afghans would wait for that. In all our history, a British charge against an Indian enemy has always been successful, no matter how great the odds."

"It is a bad lookout," the captain said, as a shell burst close by him, killing and wounding five or six men. "It is quite evident that if we stay where we are we must, in time, be annihilated. Our fellows will stand, no doubt; they are English soldiers, and well officered. But how can one expect the two Indian regiments–with only three or four white officers, each–to remain steady, under such a fire as this, and with these desperate charges of Ghazis upon them?"

Very steadily the 66th held their ground, in spite of a flanking fire of artillery and musketry. Every time the enemy gathered at the edge of the ravine, for a rush, the heavy fire of the company on the flank–which was wheeled back at a right angle to the line, so as to face them–drove them back to shelter again. The regiment had suffered very heavily. Still, the officers felt that they could endure, till nightfall.

Of victory, there was now no idea; for to conquer, men must act and, here, they were only called upon to suffer. Presently a wild tumult was heard to the left; and then the men of the scattered native regiments burst, in a tumultuous mass, into the ranks of the 66th.

"Steady, men, steady!" shouted the officers.

But it was of no avail. All was in hopeless confusion. The artillery fired, until the Ghazis were within a few yards of them; then they hastily limbered up, and fell back. But the Ghazis were too close at hand, and two of the guns were lost.

Even now, had the cavalry charged upon the Afghans, time would have been given to the broken infantry to form again into a solid mass, and to draw off from the field in good order. But the cavalry remained inactive. Both these regiments had a record of good service in the field; but their conduct, on this occasion, was little short of disgraceful.

Among the infantry all order was lost and, mixed up in a confused mass, hemmed in on all sides by the enemy, they fell back–each man fighting for himself–upon the village behind. Here, in the walled enclosures, the 66th and the Grenadiers rallied, and fought nobly. Each house was used as a fortress, and only carried after a desperate struggle. Here Colonel Galbraith, and nine other officers of the 66th were killed; and the greater portion of the regiment shared their fate.

Some bodies of the troops–entirely cut off from the rest, in their retreat–stood their ground in the open, and fought desperately to the end; surrounding themselves, ere they died, with a ring of slaughtered enemies. So desperate was the defense in some cases that–outnumbering them fifty to one–the enemy never dared to come to close quarters with the gallant band; which kept up a rain of fire on them, till the last man had fallen. So long and stoutly was the village defended, that the great majority of the broken fugitives had time to pass out behind.

General Burrows–who had done his best to stem the rout–drew off the shattered remains; and fell back with them, in fair order.

Will Gale's company was in the right flank of the regiment and, therefore, farthest from the point where the line was broken by the rush of the native troops. Seeing what was taking place, the captain formed his men into company square; and fell back to the village, in fair order. The company then threw itself into a house, with a walled garden, to the right of the village; and its steady fire, in no slight degree, helped to keep back the Afghans, and cover the retreat. This they did, until General Burrows himself rode up, and ordered them to fall in.

"Your company has done good service, sir," he said to Captain Fletcher; "and it is for you, now, to cover the retreat."

Slowly and in good order the company fell back and, joining the troops who still retained their formation, retired slowly; facing about, and pouring volley after volley into the Afghans, as they came out through the village. For two miles, the enemy pressed closely upon them; but their loss had already been immense, and all desired to join in the plundering of the British camp. Therefore the pursuit slackened and, three miles from the village, the rear guard were ordered to the main body, at quick march.

Chapter 20: Candahar

"Thank God that is over," Captain Fletcher said, as he lifted his cap and wiped the perspiration from his forehead; "but the regiment is almost annihilated."

"I fear the worst is yet to come," Will said. "We are fifty miles from Candahar; and when we came out we had to carry water with us, for there was none to be found, on the way. We have a fearful march before us.

"What on earth has become of the cavalry? They have done nothing to cover the retreat."

"They have ridden on ahead," the captain said, bitterly, "without having drawn a sword in this day's fight; and will ride into Candahar tomorrow morning, without losing a man, save the few who were knocked over by the artillery."

Presently an officer rode up.

"Ah! Gale," he exclaimed, "thank God you are safe. I rode back to see."

And Colonel Ripon shook hands warmly with the young officer.

"I am glad to see that you are safe, sir," Will answered. "This has been a terrible day."

"It has, indeed," the colonel said, mournfully, "terrible! There has been nothing like it, since the retreat from Cabul in 1848. And how many of these poor fellows will reach Candahar, God only knows! The water bottles wore emptied, hours ago. The men are already exhausted with the long day's work, and parched with thirst; and we have fifty miles' tramp before us. Have you any wounded men here with you?"

"Several, sir, some of them badly hurt."

"Put one of the worst on my horse," Colonel Ripon said, dismounting; "and push on briskly, lads. There are some carts ahead. We will turn out the stores, and put the wounded in.

"You had better let the men throw away their knapsacks, and all useless encumbrances," he said to Captain Fletcher. "You will have to march–and perhaps fight–all night; and must husband your strength."

Steadily, the rear guard followed the broken column. It consisted of men of the 60th and Grenadiers, mingled together; and well did they carry out their arduous duties. A portion were thrown out on each flat, while the rest kept to the road. This was strewn with arms and accouterments of all kinds. The men's hearts were wrung to the core, by the sight of the number of wounded who had dropped by the roadside; and who implored them, as they passed, not to leave them to be murdered by the enemy. Many of them were lifted and placed in carts–everything else being turned out, to make way for them–but many had to be left behind; for it would be impossible to carry them, on such a march.

Slowly the long night passed. All along the line ahead, a scattered fire of musketry could be heard; as the villagers shot down the fugitives who, in hopes of finding water, straggled from the road. Sometimes sharp volleys rang out, as the troops stood at bay, and drove back the natives, when they pressed upon them. Several times the rear guard were hotly engaged as the Afghans–furious at seeing their prey slipping from their fingers–mustered and fell upon them; but each time they were repulsed, and the column held on its way.

Will was in command of a mixed band, of some forty men, which moved to the right of the road. Colonel Ripon kept by his side, but few words were spoken, through the long night. The men were half mad with thirst and, had there been water near, nothing could have restrained them from rushing to it; but they knew that none could be obtained, until they reached Candahar. Many, in utter despair at the distance before them, threw themselves down on the ground to die. But the others kept on–stumbling and staggering as they marched, stupid and half blind–rallying only when the order came to turn, and repulse the enemy.

Two or three times in the night the rear guard halted, for a few minutes; and the men threw themselves down on the sand, where they picked the scattered herbage within their reach, and chewed it to quench their burning thirst.

Daylight was a welcome relief. They knew indeed that, with the rising of the sun, their torments would grow still greater; but the change from the long dreary darkness cheered them; and they could now see, from the nature of the country, that they were within fifteen miles of Candahar. They marched on for two more hours, and then the officer in command of the little body saw that they could do no more.

He therefore led them to a village on rising ground, a short distance from the road, and halted them there. The exhausted men threw themselves down in the shade of the houses. They had the long day yet to pass, and their thirst seemed unendurable; still, the halt was welcome, for there was not a man but felt that his strength was at an end, and that it would have been an impossibility to reach the city.

Captain Fletcher picked out a few of the least exhausted men, and placed them in the outskirts of the village to call the rest to arms in case the Afghans–numbers of whom were hovering round–should venture upon an attack. For the first hour after reaching the village, not a man moved from the spot where he had thrown himself down. The officers had searched the houses, and found some jars of water. These they carried round, and doled out a few mouthfuls to each man. Small though the amount was, the relief afforded was immense and, as soon as their first exhaustion had subsided, the men scattered through the gardens; plucking the vine leaves and chewing them and, fortunately, discovering a few gourds, which were cut up into small fragments, and divided.

The day wore on; and at one o'clock there was a shout of joy, for a body of cavalry were seen approaching, at a rapid trot, from the town. Soon they rode up, and proved to be a regiment which had been despatched, from the town, for the relief of the stragglers. At daybreak the cavalry, riding in many miles ahead of the infantry, brought the news to the city of the defeat; and something very like a panic at first ensued. It was some time before anything was done to succor the exhausted fugitives, who were pressing forward to the city. But at last a force was sent out with wagons, and bullocks with water-skins; and thus hundreds of lives, which would otherwise have been sacrificed, were saved. The cavalry had come out with full water bottles, and relief was soon afforded to the worn-out rear guard, who at once fell into rank, and resumed their march towards Candahar; the cavalry, who had brought a few light carts with them, pursuing their journey for some distance further, to succor and collect those who had fallen on the road.

The sun was just setting as the rear guard of General Burrows' brigade reached Candahar; after having marched, since the previous morning, sixty miles without food, and with only a few mouthfuls of water; and having fought for nearly twenty-four hours of that time.

Every preparation was made, in the city, for the expected attack. The defenses were strengthened; the lower portion of the populace–who would be likely to declare against them–were turned out of the town; and provisions were collected from the country round. Fortunately, ample time was afforded them for these preparations. Ayoub's army had been, to a great extent, demoralized by the tremendous losses which it had sustained, in the defeat of this handful of British troops; and some days elapsed before it moved forward from Maiwand. Then, by easy marches, it approached Candahar; and took up its position in the plain, to the north of the city.

Just as the rear guard of General Burrows' force were starting from their halting place, for their last march into the city, Will Gale was delighted at seeing Yossouf approaching. He had not seen him since the regiment marched out from Khusk-I-Nakhud. The young Afghan had remained, with the other followers, in the village behind Maiwand during the battle when, while the resistance of the British was still continuing, the Afghans had worked round by the ravines and entered the village.

Yossouf had been obliged to join in the retreat, which was at once commenced by the baggage train. Full of anxiety for the fate of his master, he had hurried forward at his best speed to Candahar; reaching the city only an hour or two after the arrival of the cavalry. In spite of the distance he had already performed, he did not delay for an instant; but set out again with some provisions, and a bottle of wine, and one of water hidden away in his dress. He had resolved to push forward, at all hazards, until he had either joined his master–whether on his retreat, or as a prisoner in Ayoub's army–or had discovered his body on the field of battle, and given him burial.

Passing through the throng of fugitives, and questioning any of the men of the 66th he met, he made his way forward. He had learned that Will's company had withdrawn, in a body, from the battlefield to the village but, further than this, none of the fugitives could tell him; and his delight was exuberant, when he saw Will marching along with his company. The little supply which he had brought was at once served out, among the men who most needed it; and Will–who had been in a state of great uneasiness concerning the safety of his faithful follower–was greatly cheered by finding him alive, and unhurt.

The news of the defeat of Maiwand produced an immense sensation, in India; and measures were at once taken for the relief of Candahar. A strong division was ordered to march from Cabul, through Ghuzni; while General Phayre, who commanded the force at Quettah, was also ordered to advance to the assistance of the garrison.

General Phayre, however–although comparatively close to Candahar–was unable to advance, for some time. The same miserable economy which had dispersed the transport train, after the signature of the Treaty of Gundamuk; and had so delayed the advance of General Roberts towards Cabul, after the massacre of the mission, again paralyzed the action of the British troops–the whole of the transport train, collected at so much cost and difficulty, having been dismissed to their homes, as soon as the negotiations with Abdul-Rahman held out a prospect of peace. Many weeks elapsed before a sufficient number of baggage animals could be collected to enable General Phayre to advance, with his relieving column.

In Candahar, things passed quietly. The enemy, from time to time, fired shot and shell into the city from distant positions but, believing that no relief could reach the garrison before the supplies of food were exhausted, and that it must therefore yield to hunger, Ayoub's army contented themselves by watching the city from a distance; and by keeping a cordon of troops round its walls, to prevent the country people from bringing in provisions.

Detached bodies, indeed, often crept up near the walls; and kept up a musketry fire at any troops showing themselves, there. But no attempts were made to batter down the walls, or to make anything like a resolute assault. Ayoub's army had, indeed, greatly lost heart. If 1500 British soldiers, attacked under circumstances of the greatest disadvantage, had killed 6000 or 7000 of their assailants; what might not be the slaughter which a greatly superior force would inflict, when sheltered behind stone walls?