The following is a bare summary of the facts connected with General Burrows’ advance upon Girishk, and the defeat of his brigade at Maiwand. I have gone more into the details of the defeat in letters written after my arrival at Candahar, my informants being officers engaged in the action.

At the end of June 1880, reports, which were thought trustworthy, reached Candahar that Ayub Khan had left Herat early in the month with all his troops, amounting to eleven regiments of infantry, thirty-six guns, and a very large number of cavalry, regular and irregular. He was said to have told the troops that the English had spent millions of rupees in Candahar, which, with all other property and the women of the people would be at their disposal after they had driven out the English. A strong body of cavalry under the Luinab, formerly Governor of Turkistan, was supposed to form Ayub’s advance-guard. On July 11th it was officially reported by the Government that Ayub Khan’s army had actually reached Farrah, half-way to Candahar, on June 30th. In the meantime the following force under Brigadier-General Burrows had moved out westwards on the Herat Road:—

Three hundred sabres, 3rd Bombay Light Cavalry, under Major Currie, 200 sabres, 3rd Scind Horse, under Colonel Malcolmson, six guns E-B, Royal Horse Artillery, under Major Blackwood, two companies of the 1st Bombay Grenadiers, and forty Sappers; the whole under the command of Brigadier-General Nuttal, with Major Hogg as Brigade Major. The infantry were:—six companies of the 66th Regiment under Colonel Galbraith, remainder of the 1st Grenadiers under Colonel Anderson, Jacob’s Rifles under Colonel Mainwaring; the whole under Brigadier-General Burrows, with Captain McMath as Brigade Major and Captain T. Harris, Deputy Assistant Quartermaster-General. Surgeon-Major Edge and Surgeon Earle were in charge of the Field Hospital; Captain Dobbs had charge of the Commissariat; and Lieutenants G. S. Jones and E. E. M. Lawford of the Transport. Major Leach, R.E., V.C., had charge of a Survey party. The force was accompanied by Colonel St. John, Chief Political Officer, and the Nawab Hasan Ali Khan. The Wali Shere Ali Khan, Governor of Candahar, with a battery of six-pounders and a force of cavalry and infantry, was at Girishk, on the Helmund, collecting supplies and watching the road to Farrah. General Burrows reached Khusk-i-Nakhud on July 7th, and Girishk on July 11th. We found the Helmund River fordable everywhere. On July 15th Shere Ali’s infantry mutinied. His cavalry had reported Ayub’s scouts to be within 20 miles, and this fact caused great excitement among his men. They were encamped at Kadanak, on the bank of the Helmund, General Burrows’ camp being on the eastern side. On Shere Ali ordering his force to retire from Camp Kadanak towards Girishk, the infantry deserted in a body, taking guns, arms, and ammunition, and went off towards Zamindawar. A British force crossed the river in pursuit, overtook them at Shoraki, and completely dispersed them, killing 200, and recovering guns and baggage. Shere Ali’s cavalry did not share in the mutiny. On July 16th, General Burrows made a night march to Khusk-i-Nakhud, some 25 miles nearer Candahar, where he awaited Ayub’s advance. By the 23rd, the main body of the Herat army had crossed the Helmund, and encamped at Hyderabad, above Girishk, and Afghan cavalry were seen pretty frequently by our reconnoitring parties. On the 27th, General Burrows marched to Maiwand, to intercept Ayub’s army, and the same day the disastrous action which resulted in the siege of Candahar, was fought. The British loss was upwards of 1,000 fighting men killed, alone. The published despatches have already given full details of our losses on this occasion, therefore I will not enumerate. It was to relieve Candahar and scatter Ayub Khan’s army that General Roberts was ordered to march southwards from Cabul.

Composition of the Cabul-Candahar Force—The Scale of Equipment—Food Supplies—Reasons for choosing the Logar Route to Ghazni—The March from Beni Hissar to Zahidabad—Arrival at Zerghun Shahr—Communication cut off with Sir Donald Stewart—The Transport of the Force—The Success of the March dependent upon our Baggage Animals—The March through Logar and the Shiniz Valley—Plentiful Supplies—Arrived at Shashgao—Reconnaissance over the Sher-i-Dahan Kotal—The State of Ghazni and the District—An Obituary Notice.

Yesterday the force destined to march to Candahar, under the command of Sir Frederick Roberts, left Sherpur Cantonments, equipped for rapid marching and sharp fighting. Sir F. Roberts holds the supreme command; Major-General John Ross commands the whole of the infantry battalions; Brigadier-General Hugh Gough the cavalry; and Colonel C. A. Johnson the Artillery. Colonel Perkins is commanding the Royal Engineers; Colonel Chapman is Chief of the Staff; Deputy Surgeon-General Hanbury, Chief Medical Officer; Colonel Low, 13th Royal Bengal Lancers, Chief Director of Transport; and Major Badcock, Chief Commissariat Officer. Major Gorham, R.A., is Judge Advocate, and Captain Straton, 22nd Foot, Superintendent of Signalling. The Political Staff consists of Major Hastings, Chief Political Officer; Major Euan Smith, Political Secretary; Major Protheroe, and Captain Ridgeway. Of these, Major Euan Smith accompanied Sir Donald Stewart in his march from Candahar, and his knowledge of the route and the tribes about it will be invaluable. The following are the troops now brigaded:—

1st Brigade.—General Macpherson, V.C., C.B.—92nd Highlanders, 2nd Ghoorkas, 23rd Pioneers, 24th P.N.I., 6-8 R.A. (screw-guns).

2nd Brigade.—General Baker, C.B.—72nd Highlanders, 2nd Sikhs, 3rd Sikhs, 5th Ghoorkas, No. 2 Mountain Battery.

3rd Brigade.—General Macgregor, V.C., C.B., &c.—60th Rifles, 15th Sikhs, 4th Ghoorkas, 25th P.N.I., 11-9 R.A.

Cavalry Brigade.—General H. Gough, V.C.—9th Lancers, 3rd Bengal Cavalry, 3rd Punjab Cavalry, Central India Horse.

The detailed strength of the force is as follows:—

This gives a total of 9,987 fighting men, or for all practical purposes say 10,000. There are about 8,000 followers. We have thus to feed 18,000 men for three or four weeks, while 1,977 chargers, 750 artillery mules, and 7,235 transport animals have also to be provided for. The Amir sent in 700 baggage animals (yaboos),—a most acceptable gift,—and has despatched his agents into Logar to prepare the people for our coming. He has particularly asked that foraging parties may not be sent out between Cabul and Ghazni, as he believes that his power over the maliks is great enough to secure all supplies without trouble. Once well on the march, we shall be able to test the extent of his power by the willingness of such unruly clans as the Wardaks to bring in corn and sheep without coercion of any kind. The Commissariat Department are carrying for the British troops tea, sugar, and rum for thirty days, preserved meat for two days, bread stuffs for five days, 500 lbs. of army food, 200 gallons of lime-juice, and all available preserved vegetables are also being carried. Sheep for ten days are being driven with the force. The scale of baggage is very low, of necessity. Each British officer is allowed one mule, on which his tent and his kit have to be packed; but as arrangements have generally been made to “double up”—i.e. two officers to sleep in one tent—the allowance is quite enough. The allowance for each British soldier, as kit and equipage, is 30lbs., and for each native 20lbs.

Prior to our moving out all was hurry and confusion in Sherpur—not a confusion resulting from indecision and conflicting orders, but rather that exciting rush of work which follows sudden orders to reduce an army’s equipment. If Sir F. Roberts is to reach Candahar in time to be of any service to the garrison his division must really be a flying column, able to make forced marches, and so mobile that the fighting of an action in the morning shall not necessarily detain the whole line twenty-four hours. In order that the troops may be in the lightest marching order, their greatcoats are being carried for them, and the relief thus afforded is greater than at first sight appears. Six pounds is not in itself a heavy weight for a soldier to carry, but the rolled greatcoat presses upon a man’s chest, impedes his breathing, and makes him hot and uncomfortable on a long march. The 92nd Highlanders have sold all their greatcoats except a few for men on picquet duty; the Highlanders are of such physique that they do not dread the change of temperature which we are sure to experience when once Ghazni is reached. Our route, it will be seen, is vi the Logar Valley, and not by way of Argandeh and Maidan (the shortest route). The reason of the Logar Road being chosen is that supplies are plentiful in the villages on the route. The late sojourn in Logar of General Hills’ force showed the great capabilities of the valley in the matter of corn and sheep, and the people are only too anxious to deal with us.

The order of march yesterday morning was:—Cavalry Brigade under General Hugh Gough to Charasia; 1st and 3rd Brigades under Generals Macpherson and Macgregor to Beni Hissar; and 2nd Brigade under General Baker to Indikee by way of the Dehmazung Gorge. Accordingly the cantonment was full of warlike pomp and circumstance—chiefly the latter—from 5 o’clock in the morning. All the troops told off for the Division were under canvas, with their kit ready at hand, and there remained nothing but to strike tents, load up baggage animals, and march away to a merry quick-step. Everything had been carefully prepared, all the men’s kits weighed and tested to a pound; and with little confusion, but much soldier-like energy, the line of march was formed in two columns, and the evacuation of Cabul began. Ten thousand men of the present garrison moved out, and their comrades, who filed in from Siah Sung to take their places, will probably start on the 11th for India. We are going so roundabout a road that civilization seems a long way off: our friends are within twenty days of Peshawur, where the untold luxuries of dak-bungalows and gharries begin. Sir Donald Stewart’s march will, it is expected, be a very peaceful one, for the chief Ghilzai leaders are with the Amir, who has been quietly warned to keep them with him and out of mischief until the troops have got to the east of Gundamak. What may happen to Sir Frederick Roberts between Cabul and Candahar no prophet, Kafir or Mahomedan, can venture to say. There may be a most resolute opposition at Shahjui or nearer Candahar, or the fanatical enthusiasm of the ghazis who beat back General Burrows at Khusk-i-Nakhud may have cooled somewhat, and our army may have only a few scattered bands to pursue. How far our pursuit will extend, also, cannot be foreseen. If Ayub shows the white feather, shall we tamely allow him to retain the 1,200 Snider and Martini rifles, and the two Horse Artillery guns he has captured? If so, his wisest course would be to retire upon Herat, raise and drill three or four regiments, whom he could arm with breech-loaders, and in a year try his fortune again, avoiding Candahar altogether, but striking for Cabul by way of Turkistan and Balkh. There are many questions involved in this march to Candahar, and whispers of “Herat!” are already being heard in camp. Every step we move threatens Abdur Rahman’s position in Cabul, so far; but unless we completely break Ayub’s power our nominal Amir will have a hard fight for his kingdom hereafter.

But I have wandered off from our march out. General Baker, with the 72nd Highlanders, 2nd and 3rd Sikhs, 4th Ghoorkas, and a Mountain Battery, reached Indikee during the morning, while the other two Brigades pitched camp in the fields beyond Beni Hissar. The tail-end of a thunderstorm laid the dust in the afternoon, and when Sir F. Roberts rode out in the evening to assume command of his division it was delightfully cool and fresh. Sir Donald Stewart, General Hills, and some of the Staff of the new 2nd Division, accompanied General Roberts, and much had to be said during the short ride. Some of our friends, who were bound for Peshawur, also came out to camp, and hand-shakings and cries of “good-bye and good-luck” were all the order of the evening. There were certain little signs of seriousness in some cases, which showed our errand was looked upon as spiced with danger; but in the majority of instances the farewells were as loud and merry as soldiers’ partings should be.

Sherpur looked the ghost of its former self when we left it in the evening. The barracks of the south-western end were nearly all empty; there were no figures visible beyond those of Cabuli chiffonniers, intent upon looting everything, from old tin cans to charpoys and newspapers; and, saddest of all, our well-beloved Club was no more. The walls were still standing in skeleton bareness, but the large tent which had seen many a genial rubber played, and heard many a quip and crank—“bar-made jokes” we call them—over good wholesome liquor, was a prey to the Afghan. It had been bought for a song, equally with the “fittings” and spare stores, and was being carried off to the city. How we have hated our sojourn in Afghanistan of late, when the hot weather found matters not yet settled, only the record of our curses, an’ it be kept, can never reveal. The bare, brown hills of Bemaru and the higher ranges about had grown so wearisome in our sight that we bore with philosophy the dust-storms which visited us daily: they hid the hated landscape for a time, and made us forget everything but the dust in our eyes and the dryness of our throats. Sherpur is not a “desirable place of residence,” although it has had its pleasures and fortunes, which I have faithfully chronicled; and can we be blamed for shaking its dust from our feet with unholy joy, even though we know that many a weary mile lies between Cabul and the Sibi Railway? Last night General Roberts issued an order to the troops which stirred our blood a little, for if Candahar and Khelat-i-Ghilzai have really to be relieved, there may be some pretty work cut out for us. The order was as follows:—

“It has been decided by the Government of India that a force shall proceed with all possible despatch from Cabul towards Khelat-i-Ghilzai and Candahar for the relief of the British garrison in those places, now threatened by a large Afghan army under the leadership of Sirdar Mahomed Ayub Khan. Sir Frederick Roberts feels sure that the troops placed under his command for this important duty will cheerfully respond to the call made upon them, notwithstanding the privations and hardships inseparable from a long march through a hostile country. The Lieutenant-General wishes to impress on both officers and men the necessity of preserving the same strict discipline which has been so successfully and uniformly maintained since the commencement of the war, and to treat all the people who may be well disposed towards the British with justice and forbearance. Sir Frederick Roberts looks confidently forward to the successful accomplishment of the object of the expedition, convinced as he is that all ranks are animated with the proud feeling that to them is entrusted the duty and privilege of relieving their fellow-soldiers and restoring the prestige of the British army.”

We are not letting the grass grow under our feet, for we have only mule and pony carriage, and our progress is not delayed by camels or bullocks persistently casting their loads. To-day we have marched (that is the 1st and 3rd Brigades, and Divisional Head-Quarters) about 14 miles, while General Baker, who is encamped higher up the Logar, must have done 16 or 17. To-morrow the whole force crosses the river, and then we shall push on for Ghazni, which we hope to reach in four or five days. This will, in all likelihood, be the last letter which I can hope to get through, though runners may try to reach Sir Donald Stewart as he retires upon Gundamak. The troops are all very fit, and march splendidly; the mornings are cold and bracing; while during the day a cool wind prevents the sun from making itself felt. We shall have a most enjoyable march for the next few days so far as climate is concerned, and we hope for the best in the matter of supplies. To-day they are coming in very fairly. The moollah, Ahdurrahim, the eldest son of Mushk-i-Alam, who is accompanying the force, has been created Khan-ul-Alam, or chief moollah, by the Amir. This appointment has had a good effect, and Mushk-i-Alam with his party is reported to be proceeding to join the Amir.^[47]

To-day we look upon as the last we shall be in communication with Cabul, and consequently with India; but we are not in the least depressed thereby, as we have our work before us and have made up our minds to do it thoroughly. The diary of our march should be of interest, as it is of a kind not often undertaken. We have cut ourselves off completely from any supports; we are self-supporting in every sense of the word; and we have as our objective point a town nominally held by our own troops, but which may, before our arrival, be surrounded by an army far surpassing our own in numbers and guns. The effect of the disastrous action at Khusk-i-Nakhud will have raised the whole country about Candahar against us, and Afghans never show so bold a front as when living on the fruits of a victory. If Candahar were held in force by an unbeaten army of British soldiers, we should have little to do beyond making the best of our way to the place and joining hands with the garrison; there would be little danger and less glory in such an undertaking; but as it is we are a body of 10,000 men, making forced marches and not knowing from day to day what may be before us. So long as we are north of Ghazni we shall have no anxiety regarding supplies, but once we have passed that fortress our very food will have to be sought for at every halting-place, and the prospect of deserted villages and crops secretly stored is not a very encouraging one. But it will be time enough to deal with our difficulties when they occur, and as we are now in the rich Logar Valley, where corn and forage are plentiful, I will not speculate further as to what the marches to Khelat-i-Ghilzai may bring forth. Our chief source of anxiety is that the Herat army and its ghazi allies may not give us a fair chance of what the soldiers call “getting at them.” That would indeed be a disappointmentdisappointment too grievous to be borne.

The march from Beni Hissar to Zahidabad was as trying as any we are likely to have between Cabul and Ghazni. The rear-guard of General Macpherson’s Brigade did not reach camp until after seven o’clock, having been under arms for fourteen hours, and the 92nd Highlanders and 23rd Pioneers were so tired and worn out that many threw themselves down in their tents without energy enough to take more than a mouthful of food. It was not the actual distance (16 miles) which told upon them so much as the long halts in the sun while the baggage was being pushed forward; while a dust-storm the whole afternoon added greatly to their discomfort. The sun is stronger than was expected, and the men, not being yet in thorough marching order, felt its effects rather severely. The camp was pitched in the open fields near where we encamped in October last, when our mission was to punish Cabul. Our force now is nearly as strong again as the old Cabul Field Force, “the avenging army” as it was termed; but the brigades are not yet united, the cavalry and General Baker’s Brigade being a few miles in advance. This is to enable us to march with greater rapidity. That rapidity naturally depends upon our transport, the marching power of our men not being a doubtful factor in our calculations. We are provided with mule and pony carriage, camels being unsuitable for forced marching, and I am glad to say we have an unusually strong staff of transport officers, with Colonel Low at their head, who are equal to all the demands made upon their knowledge and endurance. Upon the efforts of this staff much will depend, as if carelessness were once to creep into the management and care of the animals a dead-lock would follow. In the first campaign the stupid experiment of trying to work camels without food was tried, and the result, as Government found to its cost, was terrible failure. Now, Sir Frederick Roberts is determined to try what can be done when the animals are given grain and forage with a liberal hand, and when we have reached Candahar I will note the result in this case also. The Transport Staff, to which I, in common with the whole force, look with great confidence, is as follows:—

But even this staff cannot ensure the service being kept up to its present state of efficiency unless regimental commanders and other responsible persons see that orders are strictly carried out. The Lieutenant-General issued an order at Zahidabad reminding commanding officers of the necessity for exercising the closest supervision over the transport animals. In this General Roberts says:—“The performance of long and continuous marches such as those which will be undertaken by the force can only be successfully accomplished if the animals are regularly fed and the adjustment of loads attended to. Recognizing that the success of the undertaking in hand must depend upon the rapidity with which Candahar is reached, the Lieutenant-General relies confidently on the exertions of all ranks to aid in maintaining the transport animals in efficient condition.”

To-day the cavalry under General Hugh Gough joined the 2nd Brigade (72nd Highlanders, 2nd and 3rd Sikhs, 5th Ghoorkas, and Swinley’s Mountain Battery) on their camping-ground over the Logar above Zahidabad, and skirted the right bank of the river past Deh-i-Nao to the ground near Paza and Wazir Kila, from which villages they drew their supplies. The 1st and 3rd Brigades, with General Roberts’s and General Ross’s head-quarters, struck camp at three o’clock, and General Macpherson’s Brigade moved off first. The only difficulty was at the bridge over the Logar; but as the stream was fordable, the baggage animals had no trouble in wading across. General Roberts watched the brigade cross, and it was pleasant to notice that the men seemed in the best of spirits, doubling up the bank and hurrying along as if Candahar were only 10 miles away. One company of the 23rd Pioneers recognized the General, and raised the Sikh war-cry of “Guru! Guru! Futteh Guru!” Once the river had been left behind open ground was reached, and after a march of 14 miles camp was pitched a short distance beyond Zerghun Shahr. Here supplies and forage were obtained in abundance, the villagers being quite willing to give all that was required. The agents of the Amir accompanying the force did good work in aiding the Political Officers in making all smooth for the Commissariat.

We are now within an easy march of Ghazni, and our cavalry have already reconnoitred over the Sher-i-Dahan Pass without meeting an enemy. Ayub Khan’s influence does not seem to extend so far north, while Hashim Khan and his followers have fled southwards, declaring they have no wish to fight the British, but will return when we have passed and make preparations for a struggle with Abdur Rahman. Since my last letter we have made four marches, the halting-places of General Roberts’s head-quarters having been Padkhao Barak in Logar, Amir Kila at the mouth of the Tang-i-Wardak, Takia in the Shiniz Valley, and Shashgao. There has not been a shot fired, and all our efforts have been concentrated in keeping our baggage animals up to their work, and in drawing supplies from the country passed through.

On August 11th, the 1st and 3rd Brigades with head-quarters turned out at 2.45 A.M., and moved off at four o’clock towards the Baraki group of villages which cluster about the Logar River, where it turns to the north. The brigades moved in parallel columns of route across an open stony plain, and the first 10 miles were made in grand style, there being nothing to impede the troops. Cultivation was then reached, and as the crops of Indian-corn, lucerne, &c., were still on the ground, much delay occurred in getting the baggage along. The water was cut off from two or three of the deepest canals, and the road improved; but there was a “nasty bit” just outside Baraki Rajan, where the bed of a tributary of the Logar had to be crossed. The camping-ground was on a ridge, with water close at hand, and fields of half-grown Indian-corn, which were bought up at Rs. 50 a bigah and used as forage. The 2nd Brigade and the cavalry were encamped 3 miles away at Baraki Barak, having crossed the river at Hisarak. The Logar Valley presented a picture of fertility perhaps unequalled in Afghanistan. It is well-wooded, and the irrigation from the river is admirably carried out. On either hand the cultivation extends for several miles, and the villages are surrounded by orchards and plantations of willow and other trees for firewood. The number of the people visible all along the line of march showed the valley to be thickly populated. To the south the valley is bounded by the barren Altimour Range, shutting out Zurmut, while to the north-east are the Shutargardan and the mass of mountains about it. Our faces were turned westwards towards the Tang-i-Wardak, the barrier of hills through which that Pass leads being overtopped by the more distant Pughman Range.

On the 12th the cavalry and General Baker’s Brigade had a long and trying march from Baraki Barak, past Amir Kila, over the Samburak Kotal to Sydabad in the Shiniz Valley. This placed them on the direct Cabul-Ghazni Road, the Shiniz Valley extending from the Sher-i-Dahan Kotal to Sheikhabad. The Lieutenant-General watched the Cavalry Brigade pass Amir Kila, and a gallant show it made. The horses looked in grand condition, the Central India Horse seeming none the worse for their hurried march from Jellalabad. The road was so narrow that the baggage animals had in many places to go in Indian file, and, although the advance-guard started at four o’clock, only part of the cavalry baggage reached Sydabad. The remainder was halted for the night, just above the Amir Kila, near the camp of the 1st and 3rd Brigades, which had marched only nine miles from Padkhao Barak. The Samburak Kotal is to the north of the Tang-i-Wardak, and is comparatively easy; but there was only one road over it—that made by the Candahar Force in April for the Horse Artillery and Field guns. A few hundred yards of this road near the crest were so steep that some of the cavalry ponies cast their loads; but on the transport officers going up early on the morning of the 13th, the baggage was found to have been left untouched by the villagers, and only one pony was lying exhausted on the road. General Macgregor moved off by way of the Tang-i-Wardak to Hyder Khel, which had been fixed as the halting-place of the 1st and 3rd Brigades; and then Colonel Low, Director of Transport, saw to the clearing away of the baggage of General Baker’s Brigade. Fatigue parties were told off to carry the loads lying on the road, to the top of the Kotal, and then the stream of mules and ponies was set in motion. Working parties also improved and widened the road, and two “diversions” were made which allowed of three lines of animals moving upwards at the same time. By three o’clock in the afternoon the whole of the baggage was clear of the Kotal; only three animals having had to be abandoned. This will show in what good condition our transport now is: not a load was left behind and the regiments with General Baker had once more the pleasure of seeing their tents and kit. The men had bivouacked at Sydabad, and the cold air of the early morning had been too keen to be comfortable. General Roberts with head-quarters joined the 2nd Brigade which encamped at Takia, two miles beyond Hyder Khel, the distance from Sydabad being about 12 miles.

To-day (August 14th) the whole force is concentrated about Shashgao, within three miles of the Sher-i-Dahan Kotal, the cavalry and General Baker’s brigade having marched fourteen miles from Takia, while the troops commanded by Generals Macpherson and Macgregor have covered between sixteen and seventeen. The Shiniz Valley is from six to ten miles across, and runs almost due north and south. High rolling hills rise gradually on either side, and there is a gentle rise from about 7,000 feet above sea level at Sydabad to 8,000 feet at Shashgao, where we are now encamped. There is only a narrow strip of cultivation about the river, and scarcely any trees after Takia is left. The villages are all strongly fortified, each consisting of a number of walled enclosures with flanking buttresses. These miniature forts are usually built in echelon, and against anything but artillery could make a stout resistance. The Shiniz is a very small stream at this season of the year, but there are numerous springs which give an excellent supply of water. Shashgao is almost surrounded by a barren stony plain, the cultivation extending but a mile or so from the village. On this plain the whole of our force is now encamped, this being the first time the Lieutenant-General has had the four brigades concentrated. It is a huge encampment, and if Sirdar Hashim Khan has caught a glimpse of it he may well be pardoned for hastening away to Zurmut. Supplies have not come in so abundantly as in Logar, the country being much poorer; but still good green forage has been got for the cavalry and transport, and enough food for the troops. It should be remembered that for the last three days we have been in the Wardak country, and that the Wardaks are no great friends of the new Amir, whose agents therefore we expected to do little for us. But the people have shown no hostility, and Major Hastings and the Political Officers have had no difficulty in dealing with the maliks. This is a good sign, and proves that Hashim Khan has really no party worthy of the name in this district. To have reached within one march of Ghazni without a sign of opposition of any kind must convince even the greatest alarmist that the effect upon the Afghan mind of Ayub’s victory has been purely local. The whole country about Candahar may be up in arms, but there is no corresponding movement among the warlike population between Cabul and Ghazni.

The troops are improving in health daily, and in spite of long and trying marching there is the best spirit among all ranks. Men falling out on the march are mounted on spare ponies, but their lot is not a cheerful one, as they are unmercifully “chaffed” by their comrades, who go swinging along with many a cheery allusion to what is to be done at Candahar. The greatest anxiety is for plenty of wholesome fighting to reward them for their weary tramp, and nothing would please them more than to see the Sher-i-Dahan Kotal covered with Afghans to-morrow morning.

In the midst of our new excitement relative to Candahar a little incident carries many of us back to the old days of December, when the Cabul Field Force was fighting against great odds about Sherpur. To-night in the Field Force orders appears the following in memoriam:—

“Lieutenant-General Sir F. Roberts is sure that all ranks of the late Cabul Field Force will share the regret he feels at the death of Lieutenant-Colonel Cleland, 9th (Queen’s Royal) Lancers. On the 11th December last, in the Chardeh Valley, this officer was dangerously wounded whilst gallantly leading his distinguished regiment against the enemy. From the effects of that wound Lieutenant-Colonel Cleland died at Murree on the 7th instant, after many months of severe suffering. By the death of Lieutenant-Colonel Cleland, Sir F. Roberts, in common with a large number of officers and soldiers, has lost a valued friend, whilst Her Majesty’s Army has been deprived of the services of a most promising and gallant officer. The Lieutenant-General desires to express the deep sympathy he feels with the officers and men of the 9th Lancers in the personal loss they have sustained.”

CHAPTER II.

The Advance through the Sher-i-Dahan Pass—The Tomb of Mahmood at Roza—Arrival at Ghazni—State of the Citadel—A Miserable-looking City—Condition of the Camp-Followers—Splendid Marching—Losses by the Road—Cavalry Scouts—The fieldfield of Ahmed Khel—A Raid on Powindah Traders at Chardeh—News from Khelat-i-Ghilzai and Candahar—Mukur to Panjak: a Trying March—Sir F. Roberts and the Troops—The Candahar Province entered at Shahjui—Heliographic Communication with Khelat-i-Ghilzai—Relief of Colonel Tanner’s Troops—Disastrous Sortie at Candahar—Ayub Khan Raises the Siege—Cavalry March to Robat—Heliographing with General Primrose—General H. Gough meets Colonel St. John—“In Touch” of Ayub Khan—Diary of the March from Cabul.

Nothing occurred to disturb us last night in our camping-ground at Shashgao, and we turned out as usual at three o’clock and loaded up for the day’s march. It was well known yesterday that no armed gathering was at Ghazni; but in this country no one can say what a night may bring forth, and orders were accordingly issued for the advance through the Sher-i-Dahan Pass to be made as if an enemy were actually at hand. With between 8,000 and 9,000 baggage animals to be guarded, great precautions had to be taken to make the line of march as compact as possible, and this object was gained by the following disposition:—

Owing to the darkness of the morning and the nature of the road it was found necessary to modify this disposition; the 92nd Highlanders went first, with the Cavalry Brigade following, until the southern end of the Pass was reached, when a squadron of cavalry trotted forward to reconnoitre the country towards Ghazni.

The Sher-i-Dahan Pass might, from its name (the lion’s mouth) be expected to be very formidable, whereas it is one of the easiest in Afghanistan. The rise from the Shashgao plain to the Kotal is only 400 feet, and is so gradual that it is scarcely noticeable. The road is not at all shut in for the first 2 miles, the hills rolling away on either hand in easy undulations. The Kotal is marked on our maps as 9,000 feet high, but it was found by aneroid measurements to be only 8,300. The road is sufficiently broad to allow of four horsemen riding abreast, and is in very good order. For about a mile after the Kotal is crossed there is a gradual descent and the hills close in; but they soon recede, and one enters upon an open plain, basin-shaped, in which is a line of karez furnishing water for a few score acres of cultivation. The road crosses the plain, and goes in nearly a straight line up a second low Kotal, from the top of which the Ghazni plain is overlooked. The villages of Kila Hindu and Khodobad are seen on the left; Roza is directly in front; while in the distance, over a mass of vegetation, rises the Ghazni citadel, the town itself not being visible. The Sher-i-Dahan could scarcely be held against any large force, as it can be turned on either hand, all the hills being accessible to infantry and mountain guns. There are no positions such as can be held by a few hundred men, as in the Khyber, Shutargardan, and Jugdulluck Passes; only sloping sides of hills, many of which horsemen can ride up. These hills are as bare and barren as Afghan hills generally are, not a tree being seen for miles.

It was, therefore, a great relief to enter upon the fertile country about Ghazni itself. At this season of the year the crops of Indian-corn and lucerne grass cover the fields with greenness, while the walled orchards surround the villages with belts of foliage, promising shade and coolness most grateful to wearied men. Vineyards also abound, the ground being rich and water plentiful, and delicious grapes are retailed at prices lower than in Cabul itself. A donkey load made up of two large baskets, each weighing 40lbs. or 50lbs., cost us only three rupees when our advanced guard was at Roza, though prices rose enormously as the day wore on. The troops passed by a narrow lane through Roza, the outskirts of which are a mass of vineyards, while the village itself boasts of several high, well-built houses as well as of the tomb of Mahmood of Ghazni. A running stream of pure water pours through the village and crosses the road near the gate, and about this some hundred men were gathered to watch our army file past. Some of us turned into Roza, and made our way to Mahmood’s tomb, to which we were directed with every show of eagerness. It stands in a walled garden, and there is a rude building about it which probably serves as a mosque. In the garden are richly-carved stone gargoyles and images resembling the Assyrian bull, probably the spoil brought by Mahmood to his capital when returning from some of his successful expeditions. The tomb itself is still well preserved, the marble being beautifully polished and kept clear of even a speck of dirt or dust. In place of the gates of Somnath, which Nott carried back to India nearly forty years ago, are richly-carved doors of a wood made to resemble sandal wood, while hundreds of horseshoes and other tokens are nailed on the lintel. The tiger-skin mentioned by Vigne as being the largest he had ever seen, still hangs on the wall just outside the gate. Bits of rich carving and elaborate inscriptions can still be traced on the walls of the room built about the tomb; but there is an air of decay about everything except the marble slabs of the tomb itself. These are about 8 feet long by 2 in breadth, and are raised some 2 feet above the cracked stone flooring. The Kufic inscriptions are still very well preserved. Particoloured banners are stretched across the roof to prevent dust falling from above, and a janitor sits stolidly at the entrance to see that the tomb is not desecrated. The remains of the King who invaded India eleven times rest peacefully enough in the picturesque village overlooked by the Ghazni citadel, but glory has departed from the neighbouring city, once the capital of a most powerful kingdom.

Ghazni is situated at the foot of a long undulating spur which runs down from the west of the Sher-i-Dahan Pass and gradually loses itself in the plain. Two minars—high tapering pillars, said to have been built ages ago by Mahmood—mark the road leading from Roza to the Cabul Gate, with which Durand’s name is inseparably connected; and in the shade of these pillars Sir Frederick Roberts and his Staff halted, while Major Hastings, Chief Political Officer, rode to the citadel to bring in Abdul Reschid, who is nominally acting as Governor of the city in these troublous times. That worthy presently appeared with a score of mounted retainers, all more or less ragged and disreputable, and the General rode on to visit the Bala Hissar and the city itself. From a military point of view the citadel is badly placed, as a knoll on the spur of the hill commands the building at a distance of only 800 yards. Artillery on this knoll could make the fortress quite untenable, while guns could scarcely be worked on the walls in the face of rifle-fire from breech-loaders. But the walls are by no means in the state of ruin reported by Sir Donald Stewart’s force. There are certainly two breaches on the south-western side, but they could be easily repaired, and the walls are so thick and high that to send a storming party against them would involve heavy loss of life, and success would be very problematical if the garrison were at all resolute in defence. The moat is nearly dry, but an irrigation channel runs alongside, from which the water could be diverted. A low wall, 2 feet high, pierced for musketry, and with small flanking bastions on the escarp 8 or 10 yards above the moat, is in utter ruin; but of the main walls above, the parapet only is fallen away, the roadway along the top being still practicable for men lining it. An engineer officer gave it as his opinion that the Cabul Bala Hissar was really in very little better repair, when we entered it last October, than is that of Ghazni now. The approach to the Cabul Gate is by a road over the moat, but the gateway itself is hidden from view, as two flanking walls, 38 feet high and 20 yards in length, stretch out in nearly semicircular shape. Between these one can only see a few yards in advance, until a sharp turn shows the gateway right in front. There is nothing distinctive in its appearance; it is of the pattern common in all Afghan forts: two high wooden doors opening inwards, of great thickness and studded with iron bolts. The masonry on either side and above it is blotched and scarred by time, but is still fairly substantial. A drinking fountain is on the left, the water being carried into the city by a channel from the hill above. The immediate approach from outside is rather steep, but is broad enough to admit a regiment marching up in fours. A crowd of curious citizens blocked the gateway, but they readily gave place as we rode in. Immediately within the gate is an open space some 50 yards square, and rising in front on a mound 100 feet high is the citadel. Two well-worn roads lead up to it at an angle sufficient to make riding up rather difficult. It was down these that a swarm of swordsmen rushed and cut up our leading companies when Nott stormed the place. Two old field-guns, 6-pounders, were standing on the left, mounted on carriages of very recent make, while a mud building with barricaded doors was said to be the “magazine,” and to contain two more guns and some ammunition. The interior approaches to the walls were in bad repair; but there were pathways along them, and plenty of materials in the shape of sun-dried mud and debris to build a new parapet.

Conducted by Abdul Reschid, who, by the way, is fonder of strong liquor than a true Mahomedan should be, Sir F. Roberts and some twenty officers rode up to the citadel, which was found quite deserted. It is rectangular in shape, and has only one gateway facing towards Roza, the mound on which it stands falling down on the other sides almost perpendicularly. The walls are thirty feet high, and are built of brick and mud, each of the four corners boasting of embattled towers, which at a distance seem very imposing. The eastern half overlooking the city has been built within the last few years, and has some pretension to architecture, but the western section is just as it stood in 1840-41. An open courtyard is entered after the narrow gateway has been passed, and two tiers of rooms look down upon the blank space below, which shows no signs of being the keep of a citadel. Abdul Reschid explained that in the old rooms on the right the English prisoners were confined, while the Governor always lived in the new quarters commanding the city. Into these we accordingly went, and from the upper rooms a grand view was obtained of the surrounding country, thickly dotted over with villages embowered in orchards and vineyards. One could appreciate the fertility of the Ghazni province at once, and our hopes of plentiful supplies being forthcoming for the troops mounted high. At our feet lay Ghazni itself, with its encircling walls, and a more miserable-looking city could scarcely be imagined. The “houses” are low mud huts, nearly all of one story, and streets there appeared to be none. The 24th P.N.I. had marched in through the Cabul Gate directly in our wake, and their band woke the echoes of the place right cheerily as we listened to Abdul Reschid’s chatter concerning Hashim Khan and young Mahomed Ali Jan, who had fled four days before—not in fear, but because they had no wish to fight the British, their quarrel being with Abdur Rahman alone. Presently we rode down into the town, and found it as miserable as it looked from above. There was an attempt at a covered bazaar, the covering being twigs and branches of trees to afford shelter from the sun; but the street was so narrow that we had to go in single file, and in places one could step from shop to shop across the roadway without effort. I have called them shops out of courtesy, for Ghazni was once a great city, but they are really wretched stalls, in which grapes, fruit, corn, and attar are retailed. A few blacksmiths’ and shoemakers’ shops were alone worthy of the name, and after ten minutes’ inspection we rode out of Ghazni by a second gate, some 200 yards distant from the one by which we had entered. This gate was also in fairly good order, and a storming party entering by it would get entangled in the narrow streets, all commanded by the citadel above. Ghazni, while not so ruinous as it has been painted, is certainly rapidly decaying, and another generation will probably see it at its lowest ebb.

Our camp was pitched on a large sandy plain almost due east of the city, and to-morrow we begin our march to Khelat-i-Ghilzai, which we hope to reach on the 28th or 29th of the month, the rapidity of our movements depending now upon the capacity of the country to furnish forage for our cavalry and our transport animals. The excitement known to exist about Candahar has not extended northwards yet, and there seems more interest in Cabul affairs consequent upon the accession of Abdur Rahman than in the movements of Ayub Khan. Supplies of grain, flour and forage have been got in abundance to-day, and if we could only be sure that the crops of Indian-corn have been sown about the villages on the route our prospects would be very bright. We have hitherto got along wonderfully well; our troops are getting in better marching order daily, and our transport animals having been well rationed are as fit for heavy and continuous work as can ever be expected. The disappearance of Hashim Khan and Mahomed Ali Jan proves that the people have no stomach for fighting, for if the Sirdars could have raised an army in this district they would undoubtedly have tried to harry us on the march. Our force numbers in all over 18,000 men, soldiers and followers, and our line must straggle a little in spite of all precautions. The weakest link in our chain is the state of the dhoolie-bearers and followers, who lack the stamina of the sepoys, and are left more to their own resources than men under strict regimental discipline. Dr. Hanbury, Chief Medical Officer, is doing all he can to keep the kahars in health, and as ghee is not obtainable he has procured the issue of a small meat ration to all followers. The quantity will be increased if sheep can be got at the villages, and under this system break-downs are likely to be reduced to a minimum. To avoid placing in dhoolies men who are only foot-sore, Colonel Low is buying up all the donkeys he can find, and on these such men will be carried until they are again able to walk. There is really no sickness in the force, except mild forms of fever and diarrhoea, from which men are detained in hospital only a few days. No messengers have as yet arrived from Khelat-i-Ghilzai, but we expect to receive letters in a few days.

To-day is the fifteenth from Cabul, and the eighth from Ghazni, and so far Sir F. Roberts’s march has been most successful. We have come through an enemy’s country without any show of opposition being made, and the merit of the march is therefore its unequalled rapidity. From Ghazni we have covered 136 miles in eight days, giving an average of 17 miles per day, continuous marching; while, taking Beni Hissar as our starting point, we have done 286 miles in fifteen days, or on an average 15·7 miles per day. For a regiment alone to do this would not be extraordinary, but for a force numbering 18,000 souls, with between 8,000 and 9,000 baggage animals, to cover this distance without a day’s halt, is a feat in marching which is perhaps unrivalled. Sir F. Roberts’s march upon Cabul last year proved what can be done by a determined General in the face of enormous difficulties, but our present work is a more remarkable achievement; and even if there should be no second Charasia at the end both officers and men will have deserved well of their country. When there is no butcher’s bill there is a tendency to underrate the importance of military movements; but it is to be hoped there will be little detraction in regard to the relief of Candahar. Only those who have shared in the march can form an idea of the discomfort and hardship involved; and I, as a non-combatant, with no one but myself to take care of, have had many opportunities of seeing how splendidly the men have behaved, and how officers have not spared themselves in carrying out the orders of the General directing the movement. The regiments forming the fighting line have, after marching for eight hours, often through sandy soil or over rough ground, to furnish on arrival at camp parties for all kinds of duty; one party for wood, another for bhoosa and green forage, a third for guards, while sentry-go and picquet duty at night have allowed what is technically known as only “three nights in bed.” Then the rear-guard work has been terribly heavy: regiments on this duty reach camp sometimes as late as nine o’clock, having been under arms since four o’clock in the early morning. The next day’s march begins at 4 A.M., and the men have had to turn out at reveillÉ (2.45 A.M.), load up their baggage animals, and fall in as if they had enjoyed a long night’s rest. The nights have luckily been deliciously cool, and the early mornings even bitterly cold; but two hours after sunrise the heat makes itself felt, and from eight o’clock until four the sun beats down upon the open treeless country with great fierceness. Marching, one does not feel it so much, but in the trying pauses when cast loads have to be replaced upon broken-down mules, and when waiting in camp for the tents to come up, the heat punishes the men fearfully. Blistered hands and faces were common enough during the first days of the march, and although these have come to be little regarded, there remain that bodily exhaustion and lassitude resulting from long exposure in the sun and a short allowance of sleep at night. The extremes of temperature may be appreciated when I state that the thermometer at 4 A.M. registers 45° in the open, and at 4 P.M. 105° in a double-fly tent. For the last two marches we have turned out at 1 A.M. and marched at 2.30, in order to get the main body into camp early in the day, and as we have had a bright moon to light up the road, the marching has been excellent. The rear-guard gets in by about three o’clock in the afternoon, and the troops have ample time to prepare their food before “turning in” at half-past seven.

It is well for us that food has been plentiful along the route, for without liberal rations no men could stand the constant call upon their powers; and we have been lucky also in getting plenty of green forage for our animals. The villages which were deserted when Sir Donald Stewart marched to Cabul, we have found all fairly well peopled; the villagers had sown their crops of Indian-corn, which we have been able to purchase for transport requirements. We expected to find a howling desert, whereas we have found a strip of cultivation, narrow enough, but still sufficient for our needs. We could not possibly have maintained our rate of rapid marching if this had not been so, for continuous work will break down the best mule ever bred if the animal be not properly fed. General Hugh Gough’s cavalry brigade has also been kept up to its efficient state, and the horses look nearly as fit as when they left Cabul.

I have already alluded to our followers as being the greatest drag upon us, and the kahars have undoubtedly had a struggle to keep up. They are such fatalists that they believe it is part of their kismut to wander off the road into obscure nullahs, there to fall asleep, and take the risk of being cut up by Afghans. Of late the troops of cavalry forming the rear-guard have quartered the country like beaters at a tiger hunt, and the sleeping kahars have been rudely wakened and brought along. Baggage animals with sore backs have been utilized for carrying the poor wretches into camp, a mule gone in the withers being quite equal to bearing a man astride his back. Wonderful to say, men straggle into camp long after midnight, unharmed and perfectly self-satisfied. They have enjoyed their sleep in obscure ravines, and have then resumed their march as if in a friendly country. Some of them tell strange stories of having been stripped by Afghans and then allowed to escape; but these are Mahomedans who have claimed fellowship in religion with the tribesmen. Our actual loss in dead and missing since we left Cabul is, I believe, as follows:—Died—Europeans, one; sepoys, four; kahars, five; followers, five; missing—forty-three. Of the men who have died, one private of the 72nd and one sepoy of the 23rd Pioneers committed suicide: three sepoys died from obstruction of the bowels caused by eating unripe Indian-corn, and then drinking large quantities of water. Of the missing many are known to have been kahars trying to get to the Khyber line, and Hazara syces who have gone to their own country. There were 494 soldiers in hospital on the 24th August.

Regarding our transport, we have at work now 2,664 yaboos and ponies, as against 2,919 when we left Cabul; 4,426 mules as against 4,509; 934 donkeys as against 929; and 150 camels. Many of the donkeys and all the camels have been obtained on the road. Our total transport now consists of 8,174 animals of all kinds, while the Khelat-i-Ghilzai garrison will furnish 301 camels, 132 mules, ten ponies, and 265 donkeys. The garrison is made up of two companies of the 66th (141 men), the 2nd Beluchis (675), squadron 3rd Scind Horse (107 sabres), with two guns of C-2 R.A. (forty-seven men), two medical officers, one commissariat officer, and various details, amounting in all to a total of 1,005 men. They have stored in the fort a large quantity of tinned meat and soups, attar, corn, and bhoosa, which will be a most welcome addition to our stores. To-day, also, a wing of the Beluchis have moved out to Jaldak, our next stage, where they will collect supplies for the force. We are to halt here to-morrow to give men and animals a short rest.

Having summarized some of our difficulties and drawn attention to the merits of the march, considered apart from its ultimate ending, I will now give in detail the stages marched from day to day and the actual distances covered. On August 12th we left Ghazni and marched to Yergatta, just past the battlefield of Ahmed Khel—20 good miles. The brigades got into motion at 4 A.M., and the cavalry began the work which they have since performed daily, and which I will now allude to once for all. They were spread out all across the valley, and worked steadily along, examining every yard of ground and feeling for an enemy who has never yet shown himself. A bright moon favoured their movements, and when one got a little ahead of the infantry it was a weird sight to see a chain of phantom-like men and horses stretching away on either hand, until lost in the early morning mist. Too high praise cannot be given to General Hugh Gough and his fine cavalry brigade for the way in which this covering movement was done. The infantry could march along in perfect security with the knowledge that some 1,500 troops were in front and on the flanks, that the “eyes of our army,” as the Germans have it, were wide open. Sowars, when properly handled, make excellent Uhlans, as they are all light-weights and their horses seldom tire. Our more heavily accoutred English cavalry are of course handicapped at such cross-country work, but the 9th Lancers are so eager to reach Candahar and capture a few of Ayub’s guns that they make light of the burning sun and bitter fatigue; their want of knowledge of the language and habits of the people is more than compensated by extra vigilance and care in scouting. The cavalry marches were always several miles longer than those made by the infantry, by reason of their constant scouting; while before camp was pitched patrols were sent out five miles in advance on reconnoitring duty. A troop was detailed daily to act with our infantry rear-guard, and they were always last in, as they had to sweep all stray animals and followers before them. But for this arrangement many lives would have been lost, as the apathy of a tired kahar or other follower is extraordinary.

This first march out at Ghazni was very trying. After passing through the walled gardens about the town, and turning to take a farewell look at the Bala Hissar, most imposing when viewed from the south, we got into the open country, and before us was the plain stretching right away to Khelat-i-Ghilzai, with no break in its continuity. The hills which bound it may send out minor spurs, and the lower ranges on the east between the Ghazni River and the high Khonak mountains may seem at times about to close in upon the road; but there is not a kotal to be crossed, and the valley is always broad enough to allow of three columns of route.

The characteristics of the country north of Khelat-i-Ghilzai are very accurately detailed in official route books: the villages, with their orchards and patches of cultivation, are numerous enough for the first few miles. They then grow fewer and fewer, and the plain becomes a waste covered with the camel-thorn scrub and intersected by deep ravines running from the foot of the hills on either side down to the river bed. These are formed by the streams resulting from the melting snows, and their banks are so steep that they are at times formidable obstacles to baggage animals. Streams of water, chiefly from karez sources, cross the road at right-angles from time to time, and near these are generally a few fields of Indian-corn, lucerne and melon beds. In this first march, for example, we crossed a broad river bed three miles south of Ghazni, and then got upon a sandy plain which lasted almost as far as Nani, where a number of small streams furnish water for the crops. Here an hour’s halt was called (which only served to stiffen the men), and then we moved towards Ahmed Khel over an arid plain which led to the rolling hills on which Sir Donald Stewart fought his action. Nothing could be more desolate than the country of Ahmed Khel and the battlefield itself, but we got water at Yergatta, and a few fields of Indian-corn for our worn-out animals. The scarcity of wood all down the line of march was also a source of constant trouble—at Yergatta camel-thorn scrub having to be collected and burned. The order of march from Ghazni was: 2nd and 3rd Brigades leading, and 1st Brigade (with troop of cavalry) acting as rear-guard. The leading brigades marched in parallel columns of route and reached Yergatta about 3 P.M. A terrific dust-storm was blowing, and the task of getting in the baggage was unusually hard. The 1st Brigade lost its way in the storm, and the rear-guard did not arrive in camp until long after dark. Men and animals were alike exhausted by this long march, the longest save one made on the route.

Such officers of General Stewart’s force as were with us explained the positions in the Ahmed Khel action, and our surprise was indeed great that even ghazis could “rush” infantry armed with breech-loaders over ground on which there was not a bit of cover. There were between 400 or 500 graves on the battlefield showing where the enemy’s dead had been buried: in place of headstones there were, in a few cases, the scabbard of a sword or knife sticking up, transfixing a bloody cap or a pair of old shoes belonging to the dead ghazi. I am sorry to say the graves in which our dead were buried had been torn open and dishonoured. On one of the largest graves had been found a small piece of paper tied to a stick. On being unrolled an inscription was seen, stating that the spot was sacred to the memory of the “martyrs” who had fallen in fight against the English army—the date given was 1297 A.H. But for the interest attaching to Ahmed Khel our camp at Yergatta would have seemed doubly dreary. Fortunately our animals had been fed at the halting-place at Nani, which somewhat lessened the soldier’s work when camp was pitched.

On August 17th a comparatively short march of twelve miles was made to Chardeh by way of Mushaki. The previous day’s march had sorely tried our transport, but we got in after much straggling of animals on the road. Sandy stretches also tried the men’s feet a good deal, numbers of sepoys falling out of the ranks from foot-soreness. The Chardeh group of villages covers a wide stretch of country, but many of the walled enclosures were deserted, and forage was difficult to get. Numbers of Powindah traders were seen, and there was a little excitement in the evening, thanks to these men. We were anxious to hire or purchase a number of camels to aid our transport, and the Powindahs at one large encampment promised to provide 500 of their beasts. They afterwards refused to send in even 100, and Colonel Low, with 300 men drawn from Macpherson’s brigade, surrounded their camp at dusk. The Powindahs had hidden the camel-saddles, and they turned the camels loose, while the women and children rushed among the soldiers, abusing them heartily and making a terrific din. Some shots were fired at the Ghoorkas, who returned the fire, but our officers prevented any serious fight. Lieutenant Gordon, of the 4th Ghoorkas, had a narrow escape from being hamstrung; as he was passing one of the tents, a man struck at his leg with a knife, thrusting it out from below. Gordon’s sword saved him, the knife cutting through the scabbard to the steel. Eventually 150 camels were captured and brought into our camp. On this day we received our first news from Khelat-i-Ghilzai, a messenger arriving with a letter from Colonel Tanner, 2nd Beluchis, commanding the garrison. He set our minds at rest on several points, for the Powindahs had alarmed us by stating that Candahar had fallen, and the Khelat-i-Ghilzai garrison were hard pressed. In place of this we learned that all was well at the latter place, the country not having risen. A letter from Colonel St. John, dated August 8th, was also enclosed, its purport being that Candahar was completely invested, but that the garrison had supplies for two months and bhoosa for fifteen days; 15,000 Afghans had been turned out of the city, which was held by our troops. At Chardeh most of the Hazaras who had marched with us from Cabul left camp for their own country, which lay beyond the range of hills on our right. Our cavalry found about a thousand Hazaras with their horses and cattle in a fort near our camping ground. Their story was that they had been shut up since April by the Afghans, who had sworn to kill them for aiding Sir Donald Stewart. They regarded us as their deliverers, and made a hurried exit over the hills, glad to escape while our army was holding Chardeh.

On August 18th we marched 16 miles to Oba Karez, our way being lighted for a mile by the blazing ruins of the fort lately occupied by the Hazaras, which the Afghan villagers had fired. We could see villages dotted about for the first five or six miles, and running streams gave ample water for the troops; but the last eight or nine miles was barren plain, with nothing growing but camel-thorn; not even a stagnant pool to relieve the men’s thirst. There is no village at Oba Karez, which is merely a halting-place, where a delicious stream of water from a karez bursts out at the foot of a mound 150 feet high. A number of villagers from a distance had brought a few supplies to this mound, and also donkey-loads of water-melons, which our men fell upon most ravenously. The want of water told most of all upon the followers, whose state at times was pitiable. We camped about a mile beyond the karez, near the stream flowing from it. To-day we received another letter from Khelat-i-Ghilzai, under date 13th August. It was from Captain Yate, Political Officer with Colonel Tanner. Captain Yate wrote:—

“I send you a copy of Colonel St. John’s letter of 8th August, received yesterday, our only communication with the outer world since July 26th. That letter will give you all the information we possess. I shall be glad if you will kindly send me by the return messenger a copy of your route to Candahar, to enable me to make what arrangements I can for supplies along the road. Everything is quiet about here and down the road, I believe, as far as Shahr-i-Safa or Khel-i-Akhund, and I hope to he able to have bhoosa and flour stored ready at the different stages. The Shahjui district has been very unsettled of late owing to the continued presence of Mahomed Aslam, the Tokhi Chief, but he, I fancy, will move off as soon as he hears of the approach of your force. Directly I know where you are for certain I will send out Mahomed Sadik, a friendly Tokhi Chief, who will help to get in supplies for your force.... Yesterday we received letters from Sir R. Sandeman and Wyllie at Quetta, who were anxious concerning our safety.”

I quote this letter, as the news that the country was quiet north of Candahar was very satisfactory to us in camp.

On August 19th our eleventh march from Beni Hissar was made to Mukur, about 15 miles. When we were at Ghazni we were warned that a great tribal gathering would bar our road at Mukur; but the people have not yet forgotten the action of Ahmed Khel, and not an armed man presents himself at any village we visit. For the first 6 miles out of Oba Karez, not a drop of water was found on the camel-thorn desert. Our route took us gradually nearer to the range of hills on the west, which rise almost perpendicularly out of the plain. The order of march was changed, the three brigades advancing abreast with their respective baggage in rear, and a regiment of cavalry arrayed on either flank. The country was so flat that our line extended for 2 miles, at times; and a brave show was thus made of our fighting strength. At about the seventh mile we were cheered by a line of trees in the far distance, showing where the Mukur villages were scattered on the headwaters of the Turnak River. Without any perceptible rise or fall we crossed the watershed of the valley, and by noon our advanced guard of infantry was resting under the shade of the trees about a village at the foot of a hill 700 feet high, rising sheer above the springs from which the Turnak takes its rise. The camping-ground was on a rolling plain in rear of the village, and was the best on which we had yet encamped. Supplies were abundant, and we got such luxuries as fowls, eggs, and milk at reasonable rates. The villagers turned out in great numbers, and were generally fine, handsome fellows, good-natured, but very independent. We had to pull down a few of their houses for firewood; but as the owners were paid handsomely both for the wood and the “ruins,” they did not lose their good temper, and we believed in the end that similar terms would have induced them to pull down the whole village.

August 20th will always be remembered, by those who survive the operations now being carried out, as a day full of privation, and calling for much endurance by officers and men. We marched from Mukur to Panjak, covering 21 miles by the direct road. Water was so scarce that followers fell exhausted on the roadside, and we had to send back bhistees with mussuks of water to save the kahars and others from dying of thirst. The heat was greater than ever in the day, although in the early morning the air had been bitterly cold. One company of a native regiment lay down in an irrigation channel, the water of which was too muddy to drink. Not a tree gave shade in any direction, and the arid plain with its scrub-growth seemed to grow red hot. I do not wish to exaggerate the sufferings of the army; but it should be counted in our favour hereafter that we are marching day after day through a half-desolate land, with no supports to fall back upon in case of disaster, and uncertain of what lay before us; with nothing but thin tents to shield us from a sun which laughed to scorn 100° in the shade, and with a water-supply so uncertain that we never knew in the morning where our camping-ground in the evening might be. At Panjak itself were good villages belonging to Aslam Khan, the Tokhi Chief, and we had water and supplies more than enough for our force; but the struggle to reach this oasis broke down many a man and beast. The troops were rewarded by the issue of an extra ration of rum, non-drinkers receiving an extra meat ration; and as the heat had been so trying, it was debated whether, in future, reveillÉ should not sound at 1 A.M., and the march begin at 2.30 A.M., a bright moon favouring this arrangement.

We had again news from Khelat-i-Ghilzai, and in the evening Sir F. Roberts issued the following Divisional Order:—

“The Lieutenant-General has received news from Khelat-i-Ghilzai, dated the 18th instant. All was well with the garrison, and the neighbouring country was still quiet. A letter has been received from Major-General Phayre, C.B., dated Quetta, 12th August, in which he states that he is marching with a large force of cavalry, artillery, and infantry, British and native, and expects to reach Candahar not later than the 2nd of September. Lieutenant-General Sir F. Roberts takes this opportunity of thanking the troops under his command for the admirable manner in which they have executed this march from Cabul hitherto. If the present rate of marching be continued, Khelat-i-Ghilzai should be reached not later than the 23rd, and Candahar not later than the 29th. By the latest accounts the Afghan army under Ayub Khan is still at Candahar. The Lieutenant-General hopes it may remain there, and that the honour of relieving the British garrison may fall to the lot of the magnificent troops now with him.”

At Panjak we heard from Mahomed Sadik, who met us in accordance with previous arrangements, that Ayub Khan had written to Aslam Khan ordering him to collect supplies, but all that the Tokhi Chiefs had done was to raid upon a village the previous day and carry off two maliks and a quantity of grain. Native report also stated that Ayub’s men were driving three mines into Candahar, but rocky ground had prevented them from making much progress.

On August 21st we reached a camping-ground called Garjui, 3 miles short of Tazi, our march being 18 miles. Shahjui, the northern limit of the Candahar Province, was passed, and here again some little interest was excited, as we could see the hill on the right where Sartorius won his V.C., when Sahib Jan was defeated and killed. The country was very open and water fairly plentiful. Camp was pitched on the right bank of the Turnak. Captain Straton, with a small party of signallers, had gone on ahead with the cavalry and climbed the Tazi Hill, whence he expected to communicate by heliograph with Khelat-i-Ghilzai. Seeing a hill in the distance, which seemed to answer to the description of the fortress, he directed his light upon it, and within ten minutes came back an answering flash. In half an hour General Roberts and Colonel Tanner had exchanged messages, and then we learned of the disastrous sortie of the 16th and the death of General Brooke and the other brave fellows who fell with him. Colonel Tanner informed us that he would send a company of his regiment to Baba Kazai to encamp there and collect supplies for us.

On August 22nd, reveillÉ sounded at 1 A.M., and we marched at 2.30, the heat of the few previous days having been so great that night marching was decided upon. The troops turned out with alacrity, but in the half-darkness it was hard work to get all the baggage animals clear of camp, particularly as the face of the country had quite changed, the road passing over rolling hills which shut out the view on either hand. All cultivation ceased except in the bed of the river, which lay in places 200 or 300 feet below the road. Here and there were fields of Indian-corn which promised rich crops in the future. After 17 miles we reached Baba Kazai and found the company of Beluchis awaiting us with piles of bhoosa and corn ready to our hand. We pitched on the hillside, within 200 yards of Turnak, and were busy all day exchanging heliograms with Khelat-i-Ghilzai.

On the following day (August 23rd) the force marched again at 1 A.M., this being our fifteenth march from Beni Hissar. We covered 17 miles, and were heartily glad to see the fortress of Khelat-i-Ghilzai rising before us. As our force marched to its camping-ground to the south of the solitary hill, great crowds of villagers lined the road and watched with curiosity the appearance of regiment after regiment. The number of Ghoorkas and Sikhs astonished them greatly, and they plainly respected the composition of the army marching to the relief of Candahar. A letter from Major Adam, Assistant Quartermaster-General with General Primrose, was handed to General Roberts, and we learned more details of the Deh-i-Khwaja sortie, and of the position in the city. The following are the more interesting portions of Major Adams’s letter, which was dated 17th August:—

“Ayub’s forces, dislodged by our guns from their camp close to the Ghoorka lines, have taken to the ground between Mir Bazaar and the Argandab River, where they are sheltered by the high range of hills west of this. He had two guns (an Armstrong and one of our 9-pounders captured at Maiwand) on Picquet Hill. One was dismounted by our fire yesterday. He has also a 6-pounder in an embrasure near the Head-Quarters’ Garden; one in Deh-i-Khwaja 900 yards east of the Cabul Gate, and a third in a garden 1,100 yards from the Shikarpur Gate. The villages all round the walls are held, as is also a portion of our old cantonment walls. Some of the regular regiments are cantoned in the villages, which contain besides very large contingents of outsiders. Yesterday morning, hoping to get into Deh-i-Khwaja to pull down the loopholed walls facing the Cabul and Bur Durani Gates, we made a sortie with 300 cavalry and 900 infantry drawn from the 7th Fusiliers, and 19th and 28th Bombay Native Infantry. The village was found to be strongly held, and honeycombed with loopholes. Our infantry managed to pull through, but could not gain a hold upon the place, though the enemy’s supports got a good ‘slating’ from our cavalry, and from our infantry and artillery fire. We had to get back to the walls of the city under heavy fire from the village walls: and our loss, in officers particularly, was very heavy.... The enemy must, however, have seen that we have some fighting power in us, and we heard that the regular regiments under Ayub would not turn out to reinforce the village, so that an effect had been produced, and the morale of our troops here is still good. The misfortune is they have so few officers to native regiments: wearing helmets makes them a conspicuous mark, of which the enemy fully avail themselves. Our supplies are abundant, with the exception of mutton and bhoosa. Of the latter we have about ten days’ full ration, which we can make last fifteen, and good luck may produce hidden stores in the town. We are in daily search, and get nearly 20,000lbs. per day.... The enemy here, I fancy, begin to think the game is nearly up, and if they mean to assault, they must do so within a day or two. We are very secure; the buildings round the walls have mostly been cleared away, abattis of trees, wire entanglements, chevaux de frise, traverses, flank defences, blue lights, shells, small mines in drains—all have been got ready; and if they do attack it will be at a great loss of life to them. They say they have many ladders ready, but as they will require at least from ten to fifteen men to carry them, and most will have to be got over 600 yards of open ground, you can imagine that their chances of success are very small. They ran away like hares yesterday when our cavalry got them in the open, and also when our sappers turned round and gave them a volley. Ayub’s position is well chosen: his right flank cannot be turned, resting as it does on a high hill that cannot be crossed, and his left is on the Argandab, while along his front he has a number of orchards and canals which can only be crossed at a few points. Artillery fire is required to cover any infantry movement to attack his centre, and before that can be attempted Picquet Hill must be taken. You will recognize how thoroughly he has protected himself, and how powerless we are to attack until strongly reinforced. We find it most difficult to get news. The whole place is covered by groups of villages; and the ghazis are spread about in the old cavalry lines and the cantonments. I only got a view of Ayub’s camp the other day by going out at dark, getting on a hill before daybreak, and waiting until daylight. Phillips, supporting with cavalry, had a narrow escape. Thinking to capture two men on yaboos I gave chase, but they were too far ahead, and raised an alarm. Their artillery turned out and opened fire, not at me, but at Phillips’ squadron. One shell burst under his horse’s nose, and although Mayne and two orderlies were standing by, the only damage done was the orderly’s horse shot. Altogether there is no want of excitement.”

This letter shows the thorough nature of the investment of Candahar and how helpless the garrison has become in the face of Ayub’s overwhelming strength.

I have not energy enough to say much about Khelat-i-Ghilzai itself: the character of the fortress is well known, and with the thermometer registering 105° in tents, and a hot wind blowing, I find the task of climbing up to the gates too much. Picture a hill rising out of a plain some hundreds of feet, with a strong wall, loopholed and bastioned encircling it near the top, and above all a huge rock springing out of the middle of the enclosed space, and you have Khelat-i-Ghilzai. It boasts a hot and a cold spring within the walls, and has other natural features which might interest the geologist. Its barracks will accommodate a sufficiently large garrison to man the walls, against which no infantry assault could be successful, but there is a long, flat-topped hill about 3,000 yards away from which artillery could command the place and make the garrison very uncomfortable. The country about is not at all attractive, barren rolling hills stretching away as far as the eye can reach. We all pity the unlucky fellows who have had to hold the place for so many months.

To-day we have established heliographic communication with the Candahar Garrison, and we have now in our camp Colonel St. John, Chief Political Officer, Major Adam, A.Q.M.G., Major Leech, V.C., R.E., and Captain Anderson, commanding the escort of Poona Horse. This morning, when the garrison saw the first flash of Captain Straton’s mirror, they could scarcely believe that it was the heliograph. We were three days in advance of the time laid down by the wiseacres for our appearance. To-day is the 19th from Beni Hissar, and although the infantry is one march in rear, here we are with two regiments of cavalry exchanging notes with officers of the lately besieged garrison, and coolly camping within one march of Ayub’s camp on the Argandab. I do not wish to boast of the work done by troops whose marches I have shared, and with whom is all my sympathy; but it has been “grand going,” to use a hunting phrase, and we hope the finish will be as good, for Ayub has not fled, although he has raised the siege of the city. Our troops are perhaps a little tired with their hard work, but a day’s rest will give them new strength, and this rest they can now take without anxiety, for Candahar is safe, and there is every sign that the enemy will await our approach, and defend the strong position they hold with great determination.

We have of late marched at 2.30 each morning, and consequently I have seen but little of the country passed through. My general impression is, that it is wild and bleak, the road following the course of the Turnak River, which is not a very large stream at this time of the year. On August 25th we marched to Jaldak, sixteen miles. As we were striking camp at Khelat-i-Ghilzai, some bands of robbers tried to get past our picquets near the river, the mist rising from the water covering their movements. They plainly hoped to pick up a few stray mules with their loads, as there is always great confusion when a large force has to move off in the darkness, for the moon is now a very poor substitute for daylight. The thieves, unfortunately for themselves, found that Ghoorkas are unusually keen-sighted, and the result was that four Afghans were killed before our rear-guard had left the fortress in rear. We watched the shooting while our advance-brigade was waiting for orders to move, and the reports which followed us were satisfactory. Nothing was lost, although a kahar who straggled had a narrow escape. He was enjoying a peaceful “smoke” over the dying embers of his fire on the camping-ground, when a small party of Afghans came upon him. He cried out vigorously for help, and the Subadar of the 5th Ghoorkas, with a few of his men, ran back from the rear-guard. For a moment the Afghans faced them, but the Subadar cut one man down with his sword, and another being shot the robbers decamped. This is the only occasion on which our men have been troubled on picquet.

Yesterday (August 25th) we reached Tirandez, sixteen miles, a rather troublesome march, as the road skirted a low range of hills on the right, and was in places too narrow to admit of the troops marching in open formation. At Tirandez, the General received letters from General Primrose and Colonel St. John, in which it was stated that Ayub Khan had become alarmed at the near approach of the Cabul Force, and had raised the siege of the city on the 24th. Sir F. Roberts thereupon resolved to put himself into direct communication with the garrison as quickly as possible, and General Hugh Gough was ordered to hold two regiments of cavalry in readiness to march to Robat, whence heliograms could be exchanged with Candahar. Robat is thirty-four miles from Tirandez, and about eighteen from Candahar. The 3rd Punjab Cavalry and the 3rd Bengal Cavalry, who could muster the most available sabres, were told off by General Gough, and at 1 A.M. they started from camp, their baggage following on the wiry little ponies which serve as baggage animals. I accompanied the cavalry, with the permission of the General. Sir F. Roberts, with Colonel Chapman, Chief of the Staff, Major Hastings, and Major Euan Smith, intended to ride with the cavalry, in order to meet Colonel St. John, who, it was thought, might ride out from Candahar to Robat. When, howeverhowever, we reached Khel-i-Akhund, where the Beluchis were encamped, word was sent to General Hugh Gough that Sir F. Roberts was so weak from an attack of fever that he could not proceed further. The cavalry were ordered to complete their march, Colonel Chapman alone of the original party going on with them.

We rode quietly onwards, halting every seven or eight miles to give our horses a feed in the fields of Indian-corn, and allow the baggage ponies to close up in the rear. We did not know what might be in the front of us—had not Ayub some thousands of Aimak horsemen, who were great at surprises?—and we kept in as compact a body as possible, while our advance-guard and scouts on the flanks were on the watch for any signs of the enemy. But all was quiet, though a few unarmed men were met who were believed to be returning from Ayub’s army to their homes. They reported Candahar as no longer besieged, and added that all the villages about it were quite deserted. This news was confirmed by a number of men, well mounted and armed with rifles and swords, who had been sent out by the Wali Shere Ali to meet our army. At about the twenty-seventh mile we had our last halt at a running stream, where forage was plentiful, and we then pushed on over a series of low stony hills until the open desert plain lying north-east of Candahar was reached. The range of hills on our left trended away to the south, but on the right we could follow the line separating us from the Argandab, and could see distinctly the high-rounded hill (called, I think, the “Brigade Major”) which juts up on the eastern flank of the Baba Wali Kotal. “Ayub’s army is behind that; let us hope he will stay there”—was the substance of our talk for the first few minutes as we looked down from the last rolling hill above the Robat villages; and then came inquiries as to the position of Candahar. Some distance to the left of the “Brigade Major,” and separated from it by a break in the range, rose a conical hill at the foot of a higher ridge. Candahar was said to lie, in our line of vision, directly beneath this hill. Captain Straton had brought with him some of his mounted signallers, and at half-past eleven a light was directed towards Candahar. We could not see the city, even with our telescopes, as a thick haze hung over the country about it, and for a quarter of an hour no answer was given. The first signal station was on a low hillock to the left of the road, but Captain Straton took another instrument to the slope of a rocky ridge on the right, whence also he could communicate with the main body of our troops halted for the day at Khel-i-Akhund. He had scarcely left the road than Sergeant Anderson, with the first heliograph, saw a faint flash at Candahar. It was so weak a glimmer that nothing could be made out, but in a few minutes we read a message:—“Who are you?” The answer given was “General Gough and two regiments of cavalry,” and then Captain Straton’s light was evidently seen by the signallers in Candahar, who, puzzled by two flashes, asked:—“Where are you?” After this, our first station was closed, and the signallers with Captain Straton began sending messages from Colonel Chapman to General Primrose. We learned that all was well with them in Candahar, and that Colonel St. John would ride out to Robat in the afternoon. The two cavalry regiments then moved down to Robat, and as all their baggage had arrived at half-past twelve, camp was at once pitched. This forced march of thirty-four miles was in itself quite a little success, and that the baggage animals should be only an hour behind the sowars proved that with proper management there need be no difficulty in moving cavalry long distances, even when tents and all the belongings of a regiment are brought on. The heat has been terrific all day, and without tents we should have suffered much discomfort.

At four o’clock this afternoon, as Colonel St. John had not arrived, Colonel Chapman started for the camp at Khel-i-Akhund with a small escort. His day’s ride will be fifty-four miles, but his untiring energy will carry him through, and it is important Sir Frederick Roberts should have his Chief of the Staff with him owing to his own illness. About five o’clock our videttes looking toward Candahar sent word that a body of cavalry was coming across the plain; and the sowars, only too anxious to have a brush with the enemy, raised a cry that the Afghan horsemen were coming. We fully believed it to be merely Colonel St. John and his escort, but the 3rd Bengal Cavalry were ordered to stand to their horses, and we saddled up to be ready for an emergency. In half an hour the cloud of dust which the videttes had seen resolved itself at first into two horsemen, Colonel St. John and Major Leech, V.C., R.E., who were soon shaking hands with General Gough and his Staff. They had ridden ahead of Major Adam and the troop of Poona Horse under Captain Anderson, which was acting as escort, and which our own party had hoped was a detachment of Ayub’s cavalry. We made our guests as comfortable as our limited camp equipage would permit, and then we listened to long stories of the disaster at Maiwand, the terrible retreat back to Candahar, the abandonment of cantonments, and the subsequent investment of the city, with its leading incident of the sortie of the 16th inst. So many serious charges could be framed on these stories, that until I have had full time to examine quietly into the whole affair I will refrain from mentioning them. The necessity for the assembling of a court of inquiry as soon as we have re-established our military supremacy is so great that both the Indian Government and the military authorities will utterly fail in their duty, if they do not order such a court to be formed. There can be no lack of evidence, and the blame should fall on those primarily responsible for rendering possible such a disaster as we have now come to retrieve, while the charges against individuals and regiments should be investigated without fear of consequences. I hope hereafter to tell the plain story of the action at Maiwand and the retreat upon Candahar, as also to see what justification there was for abandoning cantonments before General Burrows and the Chief Political Officer had arrived. Serious reflections may have to be cast. If we are successful in crushing Ayub, there may be a feeling that ugly truths should be slurred over and everything made pleasant all round, but this would be a fatal mistake. A repetition of the events of the last month might seriously imperil our military prestige in the eyes of Asiatic nations, and re-act dangerously upon our Indian Empire.

We are at last “in touch” with the enemy, and while I am writing a sharp interchange of shots is taking place between our picquets near the Abasabad village and certain bloodthirsty Afghans who have been stirred up by a reconnaissance made this afternoon. Ayub’s guns on the Baba Wali Kotal are also booming out, and one or two shells have fallen into camp, but have done no damage. Before describing our position here I may as well bring to a close the story of Sir Frederick Roberts’s rapid march to relieve the Candahar garrison.

On August 28th, the main body of the Cabul Force marched from Khel-i-Akhund to Robat, a distance of twenty miles, all the sick and footsore being left about ten miles short of Robat, in charge of Colonel Tanner with the 2nd Beluchis. Our forced marching was now at an end; Candahar was relieved, and as our spies reported that Ayub had no intention of running away, there was no necessity for hurrying under the walls of Candahar itself. On August 29th we enjoyed a halt while Colonel Tanner brought in the sick, and on the 30th we quietly changed camp to Momand, some eleven miles nearer the city. General Roberts’s forced-marching may therefore be looked upon as ending with Robat, when the extraordinary distance of 303 miles had been covered in twenty days. I may be wrong in stating that such a march of 10,000 fighting men is unprecedented, but there can only be one opinion as to the energy of the General who could direct such a movement, and the endurance of the men to carry it out. From Beni Hissar to Robat our marches (as marked by head-quarters) were as follows:—

Thus, as I have said, in twenty days more than 300 miles have been covered, giving an average (including one day’s halt) of fifteen miles per day. I will leave it to military critics to decide as to the merits of such a march. Our hospital returns at Robat show 68 Europeans, 448 sepoys, and 291 followers, to be under treatment: a small percentage out of 18,000 men.

CHAPTER III.

The Arrival at Candahar—Meeting of Sir F. Roberts and General Primrose—The Entry into the City—Loyal Sirdars—Reconnaissance along the Herat Road—Demonstrations in Force by the Afghans—Steadiness of our Native Troops—The Battle of Candahar—The Enemy’s Position—Sir Frederick Roberts’sRoberts’s Plan of Attack—Occupation of Gundigan by Ayub Khan—Strength of the British Force—Storming of the Village of Mullah Sahibdad by Macpherson’s Brigade—Bombardment of the Baba Wali Kotal—General Baker’s Movement on the Left Flank—Difficult Nature of the Ground—Death of Captain Frome and Colonel Brownlow, 72nd Highlanders—A Charge by Ghazis—The Turning of the Pir Paimal Ridge—Major White’s Gallantry—Bayonet Charge of the 92nd Highlanders and Capture of Two Guns—Dispersion of the Afghan Array and Advance upon Mazra—Capture of Ayub’s Camp and Thirty-three Guns—Description of the Camp—Recovery of Small-Arm Ammunition—The Death of Captain Straton and Lieutenant Maclaine—The Cavalry Pursuit—The Casualties in the British Ranks.

Our entry into Candahar has been made without any great parade, and with rather a lack of enthusiasm on the part of the garrison we have relieved. This morning our force left Momand and marched slowly towards Candahar, where the leading regiments of Macpherson’s brigade piled arms outside the Shikarpur Gate soon after 9 o’clock. Sir Frederick Roberts was still so weak from fever brought on by exposure to the sun, that he was carried in a dhoolie to within two or three miles of the city. Here he managed to mount his horse, and, with General Ross and his Staff, to ride forward. He was met some distance east of Deh-i-Khwaja by General Primrose and his brigadiers, with their respective staffs, Colonel St. John, and other officers of the garrison. There was much hand-shaking and hasty introduction, and then the united party rode across the cultivated ground and made for the southern face of the city. Deh-i-Khwaja was passed with its doomed houses, and strong enclosures half-hidden by trees, wherein so many men fell on the 16th, and then we passed fatigue parties of Bombay sepoys at work clearing out the karez on that side of the city. Outside the Shikarpur Gate was a crowd of natives and soldiers, a rude sort of bazaar having been established, and it was with some difficulty a way was made through the throng. It was arranged that our troops were to halt outside this Gate and breakfast quietly, prior to any movements which might afterwards be decided upon. General Roberts and Staff rode into the city with the usual cavalry escort, and here a rather ridiculous ceremony was gone through. We had been much impressed by sand-bags on the parapet and in the flanking bastions, wire entanglement and abattis outside the walls, and other signs of the late stern business on hand, when suddenly, as we rode bravely up the broad streets towards the citadel, we came across the Wali Shere Ali “and the rest of the royal family,” as they were irrelevantly dubbed, drawn up on horseback on the right of the road. They were clad in most gorgeous attire, so dazzling to the eye that in the sunshine the effect was overpowering; while their helmets of velvet, or whatever stuff they might be, were so bespiked, besilvered, and made generally beautiful, that our poor khaki headpieces sank into insignificance. Their chargers were tail-down in the dirty drain skirting the road, but when they were spurred forward and shook their crests and curvetted in all proud wilfulness, one quite expected a riding-master to step forward and cry “Houp-la!” for there never was a better imitation of a circus pageant on a small scale. General Roberts was politeness itself to the unlucky Wali, whose only anxiety, I hear, is to retire to India on a pension, and the cavalcade went prancing up the street to Char Soo, where the two main roads of Candahar bisect each other. Here a turn to the left was taken along a sort of boulevard, and then the Wali and suite plunged into a narrow by-path which led to the Nawab’s house. Rooms were placed at General Roberts’s disposal therein, but I am unable to say if any real circus does exist within the walls, as no one under the rank of a first-class aide-de-camp was admitted.

It was not long before the first movement paving the way to an attack upon Ayub Khan’s position was made. That position may be roughly described as lying between the Argandab River and Candahar, from which it is separated by a high range of hills, through which on the right is a path leading over the Murcha Kotal (commanded on all sides), while the Baba Wali Kotal gives direct access in front. This Kotal has now three or four guns upon it, and our spies report the narrow road over it to have been destroyed. To the south-west of this Kotal runs the Pir Paimal Hill, a precipitous ridge protecting Ayoub’s right, but liable to be turned as it ends abruptly in the plain. As this plain is covered with orchards and walled enclosures, with scores of deep water-cuts and channels running in every direction, any turning movement we may make must have for its first object the clearing of the ground in front of the south-west face of the ridge. Fortunately there is on the southern face of Baba Wali Kotal and the Pir Paimal Ridge an inferior ridge, quite detached from the main ranges, and with from 1,000 to 2,000 yards of fairly open country intervening. This ridge has on the east a point known as Picquet Hill, commanding the cantonments, while the portion to the south-west is called Karez Hill from certain wells of pure spring-water near its foot. It was thought our brigades could encamp safely in rear of these, as they would be protected from shells thrown from the Baba Wali Kotal, and accordingly General Ross directed Macpherson’s Brigade, with the screw-guns and two of the C-2 Battery, R.A., to push forward and occupy Picquet and Karez Hills. The troops moved off from the Shikarpur Gate before noon, and in an hour Colonel Chapman heliographed to General Roberts, who was still resting in Candahar:—“Line of advance secured without opposition.” A few shots were fired, but they were at long ranges, and it was found that the village of Gundigan, in the heart of the orchards and enclosures, had not been occupied by the enemy, which was a great point in our favour. The other two brigades of infantry under Generals Baker and Macgregor were accordingly ordered by General Ross to take up their positions under Picquet and Karez Hills; and the relative position of our infantry is now as follows:—In rear of Picquet Hill, and consequently nearest to cantonments, General Baker’s Brigade; on his left General Macpherson’s Brigade, sheltered by Karez Hill; and again to the extreme left, nearest Gundigan and the Herat Road, General Macgregor’s troops, which are partly in orchards.

Finding the enemy not in position in front of the Pir Paimal ridge, Colonel Chapman thought a reconnaissance should be made to “draw” Ayub’s army more from its shell, and this afternoon the 3rd Bengal Cavalry, under command of Colonel Mackenzie, supported by the 15th Sikhs and two mountain guns, moved out along the Herat Road to some low hills, whence a view of the basin in rear of Pir Paimal and Baba Wali Kotal could be obtained. General Hugh Gough and Colonel Chapman accompanied the reconnoitring party in order to direct its movements. The cavalry met with no opposition, and made their way for 3 or 4 miles without any difficulty, but presently armed men were seen running from orchard to orchard and from enclosure to enclosure, plainly hoping to get between the reconnoitring party and our main body. Accordingly it was determined to retire, and no sooner did the Afghans see the sowars get into motion than they swarmed out from the rear of Pir Paimal and opened a hot fire with Martinis and Sniders. But our cavalry were well in hand and retired at a walk, the 15th Sikhs skirmishing out to protect them. The enemy unmasked five guns about Pir Paimal and shelled our men with great energy, but this did not hurry our movements. The cavalry completed its retirement with only four casualties, and then the 15th Sikhs found they had to bear an attack from some 5,000 men, who pressed them very closely. Ayub’s regulars must have been amongst them, as bugle-calls were sounded, and there was an attempt at regular formation now and then when charges were made. The Sikhs behaved admirably, although crowds of Afghans were at times within 50 yards of them. From the firing it seemed as if Ayoub were about to risk a general action, the meaning of our reconnaissance being misunderstood. General Macgregor turned out the 4th Ghoorkas and some of the Rifles to cover the final retirement of the 15th Sikhs, and steady volley firing checked the onward movement of the enemy. The Ghoorkas occupied the village of Chilzina and the near heights, thus making our left flank secure. It was not, however, until after six o’clock that the firing lulled, the rattle of musketry being increased by the gunners on the Baba Wali Kotal firing over the breaks in Picquet Hill upon the 1st and 2nd Brigades. The 15th Sikhs have had one man killed and four or five wounded—a very slight loss indeed, considering the heavy fire they were exposed to. The reconnaissance has been a great success, for we have ascertained that Ayub is holding Pir Paimal in strength, and has at least five guns in position there. To-morrow we shall direct an attack on his right flank, and once Pir Paimal is captured, we can take the Baba Wali Kotal in reverse. The firing from that Kotal has only resulted in frightening a few mules, most of the shells not bursting. Our picquets are likely to be kept well awake by the sharp-shooters of Ayub, who are in the orchards skirting the Herat Road.

The reconnaissance made on the afternoon of the 31st of August had demonstrated that Ayub Khan had with him a large body of men anxious to meet our force at the earliest opportunity. The picquets of the 60th Rifles holding Karez Hill were fired into all night by small parties of the enemy, who took shelter behind the rocks on the northern slope of the hill, and among the orchards and enclosures below. From what we have since heard there can be no doubt that the Afghan army were much elated with the affair of the previous day, and did not at all understand that our object had been merely to draw them a little from their position, so as to feel our way cautiously before delivering a decisive attack. We have been told that they looked upon our reconnaissance as an attempt to force the left of their position by way of Pir Paimal, and consequently made up their minds that, having failed in that quarter, we should next turn our attention to the Baba Wali Kotal. I do not know whether I have already explained quite clearly the relative positions of our own and Ayub Khan’s army, and I will therefore once more sketch the ground on which the action took place.

Taking the city of Candahar itself as a point from which the bearings may be fixed, there lies to the north-west, at a distance of between two and three miles, a range of hills which may be considered an offshoot from the chief range trending away to the north and forming the eastern boundary of the Argandab Valley. Due north of the city is a break in the chief range known as the Murcha Kotal, which leads into the rich Argandab Valley beyond. The hills to the south-west from this Kotal are a good deal broken and are generally extremely precipitous. At some pre-historic period there has been a great convulsion, in which the range has been shattered and a series of half-isolated ridges and detached hills formed. Thus, from the Murcha Kotal, in a south-westerly direction, stretches a high ridge, then a slight dip, then a rounded hill rising to a height of nearly 1,500 feet (known by the name of the Brigade Major), with sides naturally scarped, then a rapid fall and a break in the continuity of the ridge which allows a road to pass over the range at a moderate incline. The Kotal thus formed is known as the Baba Wali, and as the crow flies it lies exactly two miles and a half from the north-west bastion of the city. To its eastern front are some low rolling hills on which Ayub Khan usually stationed a cavalry picquet. From the Baba Wali Kotal the ridge gradually rises again until its highest peaks are 1,200 feet above the plain: it never loses its precipitous character, and, looked at from Candahar, appears quite inaccessible on its southern face. It stretches about a mile, always in a south-westerly direction from the Kotal, and then ends abruptly in the plain, there being a sheer fall of several hundred feet at its western end. It is here that the gap occurs through which the road from Candahar to Herat passes, and the canals from the Argandab are conducted which supply water to the city and the neighbouring villages. Looking from Candahar westwards, one sees on the right the precipitous ridge known as the Pir Paimal Hill, and on the left another high ridge overlooking the ruins of old Candahar. The intermediate space has in the background a striking conical hill and various other disrupted masses thrown off from the higher ridges. The foreground is simply a network of orchards, gardens, and walled enclosures, between which and the city walls lie the cantonments built by us forty years ago. Fortunately there also lies, some 2,000 yards south of the Pir Paimal Ridge, a detached ridge which would serve as a screen to any force making a demonstration against the Kotal, or attempting a turning movement round by way of the Argandab canals. The eastern part of this subsidiary ridge is known as Picquet Hill, a picquet being generally posted upon it as a guard to the cantonments and to watch the Kotal; while the remainder of the ridge is called Karez Hill, from the springs found a little to the south of it. Both these hills are within range of field-guns placed on the Kotal, but troops encamped beneath them on the southern side are well sheltered. The walled enclosures previously mentioned cluster very thickly on either side of the Herat Road, and with the orchards give good cover to the troops encamped about them. Such an encampment was formed by General Roberts on the afternoon of the 31st August; the 3rd Brigade (General Macgregor) being across the Herat Road and in rear of the westernmost point of Karez Hill; the 1st Brigade (General Macpherson) coming next on his right below the low line of rocks connecting the two hills, and the 2nd Brigade (General Baker) being half a mile in rear of Picquet Hill and close to the western part of the cantonments. General Roberts had taken up his head-quarters in Rahim Dil Khan’s house, formerly used as the habitation of the Royal Engineers. This house was in rear of the 1st and 2nd Brigades, and the enemy tried to get its range: but only one blind shell was pitched within the walls of the garden. A telegraph office was opened in one of the lower rooms, the wire being laid from the Candahar citadel, to enable direct communication to be kept up with the city. On the evening of the 31st the plan of attack was finally decided upon, its main features being a heavy cannonade and demonstration of infantry against the Baba Wali Kotal, whilst the 1st and 2nd Brigades were to force the enemy’s right by way of Pir Paimal, take the Kotal in reverse, and then storm Ayub’s “entrenched” camp at Mazra, two miles or more up the Argandab Valley. The Bombay brigade of cavalry were to watch the Murcha Kotal, while General Roberts’s cavalry, under command of General Hugh Gough, were to cross the Argandab River and cut off the enemy’s retreat westward. It may be as well, now, to mention that the cavalry could not get direct to the river as was expected; the village of Gundigan, which they had found deserted on the previous day, and through which they had to pass, having been strongly occupied by the enemy during the night. This village was in the midst of the orchards lying westwards of Karez Hill, and it showed great enterprise on the part of Ayub to occupy it after our reconnaissance had been made.

The brigades told off to make the turning movement round the Pir Paimal Ridge mustered the following strength (including officers) at roll-call on the morning of the 1st:—

The 3rd Brigade, commanded by General Macgregor, was held in reserve on its own camping-ground. Its strength was as follows:—

From the Candahar garrison the following troops were detailed by General Primrose, and from this list and that which follows, the strength of the garrison when relieved can be made out:—

The total strength of this force of Bombay troops amounted to a little over 3,220, with fourteen guns, viz., four 40-pounders, four 9-pounder Horse Artillery, and six 9-pounder field-guns.

There were left in garrison in the citadel and guarding the city the following troops:—

2-7th Fusiliers—two officers, 182 men; 66th Regiment—two officers, 146 men; 1st Grenadiers—one officer, 152 men; and 30th Native Infantry (Jacob’s Rifles)—three officers and 330 men; or a total of 768 officers and men.

Our troops breakfasted at eight o’clock, and an hour later they were ready for the hard day’s work before them. Sir F. Roberts moved his head-quarters to Karez Hill, Rahim Dil Khan’s house being allotted for the day to General Primrose and his Staff. Captain Straton had established heliographic stations at various points, linking the force together wherever it should move, the three chief stations being on Karez Hill, the roof of Rahim Dil Khan’s house, and on a spur commanding the Herat Road above the village of Chilzina, near old Candahar.

The enemy had been firing intermittently both from the Baba Wali Kotal and the Gundigan direction from daybreak, and it looked as if they were full of fight and not inclined to shirk joining issue with us. Our original plan had to be somewhat modified owing to Ayub Khan or his generalissimo, the Naib Hafizulla, having pushed their men round to the southern face of the Pir Paimal Ridge. Gundigan had been occupied during the night, and the order that Gough’s cavalry with the four guns of E-B, R.H.A. (escorted by two companies of the 7th Fusiliers and four companies of the 28th Bombay Native Infantry), should form up on the low hill above the village could not be carried out. The movement was attempted, but it was at once seen that the place must be cleared by our infantry before cavalry could hope to get past. The movements of the cavalry on our left, which were to have been simultaneous with those of the two attacking brigades, were therefore delayed, General Gough having to take his brigade some eight miles round before he could strike the Argandab River. This was one forced modification of our plans, and a second was that the village of Mullah Sahibdad, on a low mound between Karez Hill and the Pir Paimal Ridge, had to be taken first by General Macpherson’s Brigade, as some hundreds of Afghans had established themselves in it after nightfall the previous day. But all this was known long before General Roberts moved to Karez Hill, and preparations were made accordingly. General Ross had command of the infantry attack, and directed General Macpherson’s Brigade to move forward through the gap between the Picquet and Karez Hills, clear the village of Mullah Sahibdad in their left front, and then pass on under the Pir Paimal Ridge, working their way between the canals along the lower slopes. General Baker was ordered to take his brigade out to the left of Karez Hill, skirmish through the orchards, clear Gundigan village, and all the enclosures about it, and join hands with the 1st Brigade in the final movement round the Pir Paimal Ridge. Macpherson’s Brigade was to be the brigade of direction, as it was moving on an inner line, and would probably first reach the Pir Paimal village on the northern slope of the ridge, to capture which would ensure the Baba Wali Kotal being taken in reverse. The action commenced soon after nine o’clock by our demonstration against that Kotal. In Kalacha-i-Haidar, near our old cavalry lines and some 2,200 yards from the Baba Wali Kotal, Brigadier-General Burrows had in position four 40-pounder breech-loading Armstrong guns, with four companies of the 7th Fusiliers, the 4th and 19th Bombay Infantry, and some Sappers. Six guns of C-2, R.A., were also in position at the Childukhteran village, between Karez and the Picquet Hills. Brigadier-General Daubeny, with four companies of the 66th Foot and four companies of the 28th Bombay Infantry, was holding a line between Chilzina on the left and Picquet Hill on the right; the latter hill being crowned by two companies of the 1st Grenadiers. Further away on the right Brigadier-General Nuttall was watching both the Baba Wali and Murcha Kotals with the 3rd Scind Horse, 3rd Bombay Light Cavalry, and the head-quarters of the Poona Horse. This made a good display of force on our right, and at 9.15 A.M. precisely the 40-pounders began a vigorous cannonade of the Baba Wali Kotal. The shells seemed to burst with great accuracy, but the three guns of the enemy in position there answered bravely enough, the shells showing that two breech-loading Armstrong 9-pounders and one of our own Horse Artillery guns were mounted in the Pass. There was much stir and excitement among such of the enemy as could be seen on the hills, but this was greatly increased when the guns of C-2 began shelling the village of Mullah Sahibdad. Bullets from Martini and Snider rifles could be heard singing overhead, as if the Afghan marksmen tried long shots in the direction of the battery; but the enemy in the village kept well under cover, and when six guns of the screw battery also opened upon the houses from just in front of the Karez Hill, the shelling was so continuous that no one dared show himself beyond the walls. Under cover of this fire General Ross began the infantry movement. General Macpherson moved the 2nd Ghoorkas and 92nd Highlanders out to the right and front of the village, the 23rd Pioneers (who had furnished an escort to the screw-guns), and the 24th Punjabees following the leading regiments as supports. At the same time General Baker got his brigade into motion and entered the orchards and enclosures which shut him out from Gundigan.

To follow the movements of General Macpherson’s Brigade first: the 92nd and 2nd Ghoorkas had orders to “rush” the village without a halt, and they carried out their orders to perfection. It was the turn of the Ghoorkas to lead the brigade, and they were first out into the open, skirmishing rapidly forward under Colonel Battye and going straight for the southern front of the village. The 92nd under Colonel Parker worked round to the right, never pausing and doing but little in the way of returning the enemy’s fire, which now became very rapid, the Afghans appearing on the roofs of the houses and lining every available wall. C-2 and 6-8 batteries renewed their shelling over the heads of our men, and this had a good moral effect, as the roofs of the houses were swept by shrapnel. At half-past ten the village had been carried at the point of the bayonet, the Ghoorkas, having the shortest distance to cover, entering first from the Karez Hill side, while the 92nd rushed in from the opposite side. A stubborn resistance was offered to their advance, the 92nd losing several men killed and wounded; among the latter being Lieutenants Menzies and Stewart. Lieutenant-Colonel Battye of the 2nd Ghoorkas was slightly wounded on the right shoulder, but he continued to lead his men. The village was full of ghazis, who sold their lives dearly, many shutting themselves up in underground chambers and firing upon our men as they passed. Some 200 Afghans were killed in this village alone. Lieutenant Menzies had a narrow escape. After he had been wounded he was placed in an empty room, for the sake of shade and comfort, when a ghazi, hidden in an inner room, rushed out, cut down one of the guard, and slashed Menzies over the head and back. The fanatic was killed before he could do any further mischief. C-2 and 6-8 batteries advanced when the village had been taken, and were soon again in action, firing at the lower slopes of the ridge and into such bodies of Afghans as could be seen in the enclosures in front. So many men remained hidden in the village that Lieutenant-Colonel Battye remained with some of the Ghoorkas to clear them out; and two low hills north of the village had also to be cleared by part of the brigade, as the enemy, scattered about, occupied them in considerable numbers. But the main advance could not be delayed for these considerations, and the 92nd and two companies of the 2nd Ghoorkas (under Major Becher), with the 23rd Pioneers and 24th Punjab Native Infantry in support, disregarding a few shells from the Baba Wali Kotal, moved towards the south-western end of the ridge above them. They soon became involved in dry water-cuts, orchards, and enclosures, every yard of which had to be skirmished through, while a smart fire was poured down upon them from the crest of the ridge where the enemy mustered in force. General Macpherson told off picked marksmen to keep down this fire from above, and their steady shooting checked it to a great extent. Leaving Major White with the leading companies of the 92nd and Major Becher with his Ghoorkas to continue their hard fight round the corner of the ridge, I must turn now to the 2nd Brigade, which had penetrated into the maze of walls, trees and water-cuts on the left of General Macpherson’s line of advance.

General Baker, upon moving out to the left of the Karez Hill, had, in his first line, the 72nd Highlanders, under Colonel Brownlow, and the 2nd Sikhs, the latter being on the right. In the next line, in immediate support, were the 5th Ghoorkas (in rear of the 72nd), No. 2 Mountain Battery, and the 3rd Sikhs (in rear of the 2nd Sikhs), with the 2nd Beluchis in reserve and escorting the Field Hospital. I have indicated the work which lay in front of the brigade, which had to work its way through walled orchards and gardens, where it was difficult to keep touch, and where at times the men could only see a few yards on either hand. But the work was done splendidly, the order of the day being to keep moving, and when once engaged to go steadily onward until the ridge should be turned. The right wing of the 72nd Highlanders, under Major Stockwell, carried orchard after orchard; but one check occurred where Captain Frome’s company, resting for a moment in a dry watercourse, was subjected to a terrible enfilading fire from a loopholed wall which the 2nd Sikhs were trying to turn on the right. Captain Frome and several men were shot down, and just when the fire was hottest Colonel Brownlow came up. He was on foot, and had just entered the watercourse, and was ordering a rush forward to be made when he was struck in the neck by a bullet and mortally wounded. He was dragged a little under cover, but died in a few minutes. His second in command, Major Stockwell, hearing of his death, hurried to the watercourse where Captain Frome’s men were lying under such shelter as they could get, and forming them up round a protecting elbow of the channel made a rush at the wall. Once under the loopholes, the men were safe; and the defenders of the wall beginning to waver, the Highlanders placed the muzzles of their rifles through the loopholes from outside and poured a few volleys into the enclosure, completely demoralizing such of the enemy as remained. From this isolated struggle, which cost the 72nd so dear, an idea of the severity of the fighting may be formed. The right wing of the 72nd and the 2nd Sikhs were forced by the enemy’s tactics to cover so much ground to the right that they left Gundigan on their left rear; but the left wing of the Highlanders under Major Guinness, and the 5th Ghoorkas, under Captain FitzHugh, cleared it with ease; so shaken were the men left to defend it by seeing their fellows running from the orchards beyond. General Baker’s right had cleared the densest part of the gardens a short distance in advance of the 92nd on the right, but no sooner did they come a little into the open than the masses of the enemy in front tried to “rush” them; while three guns in position at the foot of a high hill, Kharoti Ridge, north of the Pir Paimal Ridge, opened fire upon them. Some of the ghazis actually charged into the ranks of the 2nd Sikhs, but could make no impression. The 72nd, seeing a large body of men preparing for a rush, fixed bayonets and charged out, completely dispersing the armed mob in front of them. One ghazi, more resolute than the rest, was shot by a sergeant at five yards’ distance. Captain Murray had just given the word to charge, and had leaped out of a ditch with his men, when he was struck in the shoulder by a bullet fired from the ridge and severely wounded.

The 92nd Highlanders and Major Becher’s Ghoorkas were now in alignment with the right of General Baker’s Brigade, and the time had come for the final rush round the ridge. The enemy’s right rested on the northern slope of Pir Paimal Ridge and extended across a basin (it can scarcely be called a kotal) between that ridge and the high Kharoti hill to the north already referred to. Behind the northern hill the large canals and watercourses from the Argandab River run, the river itself being a few hundred yards beyond the series of channels. It was in this basin that Ayub’s army made its final stand. It had no real entrenchments to line, but a deep water-cut 12 feet broad, with banks 2 or 3 feet high, and with cultivated fields in front, served as an excellent defence. The banks had been ingeniously loopholed for rifle-fire. There were two camps of twenty or thirty tents each in rear of this channel. The first was well away to General Baker’s left under the northern hill, and in it were three guns; the second was in the middle of the basin and had two guns in position. The village of Pir Paimal was on the slope some distance to the left front of the second camp and right in the path of Macpherson’s Brigade. The latter were moving in an inner circle close under the ridge, while General Baker’s troops had to work well round to the left so as to close with the guns under the northern hill and block all escape from the basin in that direction.

The action from this point can best be understood by following the movements of the 92nd Highlanders and 2nd Ghoorkas. They rounded the south-western face of the Pir Paimal Ridge, and succeeded in capturing the village of that name by a series of “rushes” and by turning the walls on the right. Major White, with the leading companies of his regiment, then found himself face to face with some thousands of men, who seemed determined to make a final stand about their two guns in the basin. The plan of our attack was for the two brigades to sweep steadily up the basin in line; but General Macpherson saw that as he had advanced so far, and there was a tendency among the enemy to surge forward in overwhelming numbers, there was nothing for it but to continue his advance. Whenever the 92nd and Ghoorkas halted and tried volley-firing the enemy ceased to retire, and began skirmishing back to the places from which they had been driven. The 23rd Pioneers had also worked up on the left to aid the Highlanders, and Major White got his men together for a charge. The enemy had tried, by turning the water into another and a dry channel, to check our advance; but this was a complete mistake. Our men were faint from thirst, and they welcomed the water as giving new life and strength. Major White rode along the front of the watercourse in which the Highlanders were lying under cover and called out to them: “Highlanders, will you follow me if I give you a lead for those guns?” There was but one answer—a ringing cheer, and the next moment the men were rushing across the open ground led by the pipers, playing the Slogan, while Major White rode serenely on in front drawing upon himself a terrific fire. The guns were in rear of a watercourse with high banks, and sheltered by this the Afghans fired rapidly and well. A small building protected their right, and some 300 or 400 riflemen lying on the slopes of the Pir Paimal Hill poured in a heavy cross-fire upon the 92nd. But the Highlanders were not to be checked, and though upwards of forty men of the leading companies fell, killed or wounded, they carried the guns at the point of the bayonet. Major White leaped into the watercourse some yards ahead of his men, and found that his horse could not climb up the steep bank. He therefore remained quietly watching the enemy firing almost into his face, one Afghan deliberately aiming at his head at a few yards’ distance. This man and some ghazis were killed where they stood, Major White getting his horse out of the ditch just as the Highlanders jumped into the water. The artillerymen had deserted their guns some time before, and had left both pieces double-shotted. A story, which is well found if it be not true, is told of a Ghoorka who had attached himself all day to the Highlanders. He managed to reach one of the guns first, and leaping up on it he waved his cap and cried in Hindustani:—“This gun belongs to my regiment—2nd Ghoorkas! Prince of Wales’s!” Then he thrust his cap down the muzzle, in order that there might be no dispute as to future ownership. The brilliant charge of the 92nd, ably seconded by Major Becher and his two companies of the 2nd Ghoorkas, with the 23rd Pioneers rushing up in support, was one of the leading incidents of the day, the rapidity of the whole affair being almost as startling to General Roberts and General Ross as it must have been to the enemy.^[48] The mass of men, said variously to have numbered from 8,000 to 10,000, who had gathered in the orchards and been driven into the basin and towards the rear of the Baba Wali Kotal, were hopelessly broken by the steady wave of men which swept them backward. General Baker’s brigade harried them whenever they tried to cling to cover in the lower watercourses, and the 92nd were driven like a wedge between them and the slopes of the ridge, smashing into their midst when they tried to rally at the two guns, and utterly breaking what little cohesion they still possessed. The first stream of the fugitives poured out from the orchards, and made for the Argandab in the direction of Kokaran, many of them falling into the hands of our cavalry; the next stream poured back into Ayub’s camp, carrying the news of the defeat, and attracting to them the escort of the guns on the Baba Wali Kotal. The last two shots fired by these guns were in the direction of Karez Hill; the first, pitched three hundred yards short of where General Roberts was sitting on the crest of the ridge, did not burst, while the second went whizzing overhead far into the gardens beyond. The screw-guns of 6-8 battery fired a few parting rounds at the fugitives making for Mazra, and then Macpherson halted his brigade and formed up his regiments at the foot of the northern slope of the Pir Paimal Ridge. General Baker had called a halt some time before, any serious firing directed against his fighting line having ceased when the orchards had been cleared, and the line had swung round to make the turning movement round the ridge. Nearly all the enemy, so far dealt with, had been irregulars, and the bayonet charge of the 72nd had checked whatever latent ghazi-ism there might be among them. During the halt the fighting line of the 2nd Brigade was reformed as follows:—5th Ghoorkas on the left, 3rd Sikhs in centre, and 2nd Beluchis on the right. The 72nd and 2nd Sikhs, with Swinley’s Mountain Battery, were in rear, replenishing their ammunition pouches. In this new order the 2nd Brigade advanced at about 11·45, and as they came into the open between the two ridges, a half battalion of the 3rd Sikhs, under Colonel Money, moved off to the left to hold the point of the northern hill overlooking the Argandab River. The three guns and the twenty or thirty deserted tents in the advanced camp at the foot of this hill fell into the hands of Colonel Money, whose later movements I will refer to presently. The rest of the brigade changed direction to the right, and marched up the basin, the 72nd taking the place of the 5th Ghoorkas in the first line. Only stray shots were fired by ghazis, who had perched themselves on the hills. The action was really at an end. General Ross had joined the advanced infantry brigades, and General Roberts was also coming round the ridge with General Macgregor’s reserve brigade. A spur running down from the hill on the left flank of the Pir Paimal basin hid Mazra from view; but as the leading troops of General Baker’s Brigade passed over this spur, they saw a mile before them Ayub’s chief camp, with all the tents standing in regular rows. Fugitives were rushing out of the camp, and 200 or 300 cavalry were moving off among the trees beyond. The 72nd Highlanders and 2nd Beluchis reached the camp a little before one o’clock, the 3rd Sikhs (half battalion) close at their heels, while General Macpherson also moved his brigade leisurely forward in the same direction. The 72nd advanced a mile beyond Mazra village, and fired dropping shots at such runaways as were still within range. But the powers of flight of an Afghan are marvellous, and as no cavalry were at hand most of the enemy made good their escape. Colonel Money, with his half battalion of 3rd Sikhs, had found that beyond the point he was sent to occupy was another hill, giving a more commanding position. He pushed on with some 150 men to this point, and to his surprise looked straight down over the village of Baba Wali into Mazra and the enemy’s camp. At that time it was packed with men, and he sent back word to General Baker asking for reinforcements, as he could not venture upon an attack with his handful of Sikhs. It was too late for any regiments to be re-directed, and Colonel Money had to watch with much chagrin the flight of the Afghans led by a large number of cavalry, probably Kizilbashes. However, he came upon five guns, including a 24-pounder howitzer, placed on the slopes of the hill near Baba Wali village, so that his half battalion held eight pieces in their possession. When General Roberts and his Staff rode through Mazra in advance of Macgregor’s Brigade the rout of Ayub’s army was complete, and nothing remained but the cavalry pursuit. In four hours our force had scattered the hitherto victorious Afghan army, driving them from a position they had chosen deliberately, and with a full knowledge of our strength, and capturing their camp as it stood, as well as thirty-one guns and two of our own Horse Artillery 9-pounders. No more brilliant ending of the rapid march from Cabul could have been wished, and the vindication of our military prestige is now full and complete. Lieutenant Maclaine was found to have been murdered by his guards, and this incident has embittered every man’s hatred of the Afghans. That the Afghans did not anticipate defeat is proved by the appearance of their camp; not a tent was struck, not a saddle-bag carried away; all the rude equipage of a half-barbarous army was left at our mercy—the meat in the cooking pots, the bread half-kneaded in the earthen vessels, the bazaar with its ghee-pots, dried fruits, flour and corn—just as it had been deserted when the noise of battle rolled up from Pir Paimal.

But to describe these matters more in detail: When our troops found themselves in rear of the Baba Wali Kotal with the enemy’s deserted camp lying before them, all opposition was at an end, and our work was to collect the guns which had been abandoned on our approach, and to examine thethe contents of Ayub’s tents. I had lingered to discuss the fight with Captain Darvall, in command of a company of the 92nd Highlanders, guarding the guns White had captured, so that the 1st and 2nd Brigades had passed on when I rode up the road to Mazra. General Macgregor was following with the 3rd Brigade; but by this time we all knew that the stories furnished by our spies, relating to an entrenched camp and a defensive position, arranged on the principles of European engineering, were fables. The 3rd Brigade were balked of their fight—for the 60th Rifles and the regiments brigaded with them were to have assisted in the final attack upon Mazra, if Ayub had taken up a second position. Scattered on the open stony road and on the hill slopes were bodies of men killed by our volleys when the Afghan retreat began. There seemed few dead men, but the nullahs and watercourses could have told their own story; for within their sheltering banks were lying clusters of white-clad peasants who had been foremost in the ranks all day. If the cowardly regulars in Ayub’s army had fought side by side with these men, our losses must have been much heavier; but they left the ghazi-led mob to bear the brunt of the attack, and took to flight when the Pir Paimal Ridge was turned. The most desperate spirits seemed to have been killed, for in the pouches of several men whose rude waistbelts I examined there was not a single cartridge left. The rifles of such as were armed with Martinis, Sniders, or Enfields, were taken by our soldiers as trophies; while matchlocks or jhezails were broken to pieces and cast away. One man killed was completely equipped in the uniform of the 66th Regiment, and had with him a Martini rifle and bayonet. A number of men, trying to preserve some form of order in their retirement, were clad in khaki, and at a distance were actually mistaken by one of our own officers for the 23rd Pioneers. As they got out of range very quickly we could not secure one of their number as a specimen. Of the 50 or 100 bodies which I myself passed at close quarters, I only saw some three or four men in what might be called uniform. These had on dark-coloured jackets, and turbans, surmounted by small yellow pompons, such as were worn long ago in European armies. There were also men shot down with stray portions of Indian uniform upon them, but they were plainly peasants or villagers who had joined Ayub after his great success. It is said that Maiwand was won for him by ghazis, or by a mob of rudely-armed ryots led by those fanatics; and one certainly saw much to confirm the idea that the strength of an Afghan army lies in its irregulars. The defenders of the Mullah Sahibdad village, the men who tried to “rush” the advanced companies of the 72nd in the orchards, the mass which finally was broken up by the 92nd at the two guns—all these were white-clothed peasants, each fighting for his own band, and fighting right well too. They were seen to kneel down, take deliberate aim at our ranks, and fire without any sign of hurry: having fired they rose to their feet, retiring at a walk and re-loading their muzzle-loaders coolly and calmly. It was these undrilled units in Ayub’s force who gave us most trouble, and who were killed as they fell back before our steady advance.

The bodies of the enemy’s killed ceased almost entirely as soon as the spur running out from the northern hill above the Baba Wali village on our left was passed. This spur had sheltered them from our bullets, and the shrapnel from our 40-pounders would scarcely reach them beyond it. The road to the Mazra camp, from this spur, was at first strewn with the accoutrements which the Afghans had thrown away in their flight. Thus packets of Martini and Snider cartridges were come upon, with stray powder-flasks and ball-bags, the flight having become a rout as our brigades pushed up the Pir Paimal basin. A few hundred yards nearer the camp were the guns which had been withdrawn from the basin itself. They had been left by the artillerymen just as they had come out of action: here and there a bag of powder lay near the muzzle, as if a gunner more stanch than his fellows had tried to load his piece for a farewell shot; while the caissons were full of live shell. The traces lay stretched out along the road where they had been dropped when the horses were taken out, and we could imagine the gunners mounting and riding off before our cavalry pursuit began. We were delighted to see one of our own Horse Artillery guns standing on the road none the worse for its captivity, and word was sent back for a team to remove it to the rear. The other 9-pounder lost at Maiwand was, as conjectured, in position on the Baba Wali Kotal. More accoutrements and packets of ammunition were found scattered near the first line of tents, and once within the camp we could see how hasty had been the flight, and how little the enemy had expected a crushing reverse in a few hours. Our reconnaissance of the 31st seems to have been fatal to them; they looked upon it as a first success for their own arms, and had consequently made no preparations for securing an orderly retreat. Their camp was pitched in a very orderly way, the tents being arranged in streets with their front looking towards Candahar. The rows of tents stretched away fully half a mile in rear until the small village of Mazra was reached. Ayub’s tent, one of the kind in which we usually hold durbars, and large enough to have accommodated all the princes of the Barakzai family, was on the right of the camp near the canal which carries water to Candahar. A handsome carpet still covered half the floor, and when the Beluchis first entered it there were, I believe, many evidences of recent occupancy. Within a few yards of it was a small tent with a small enclosure formed by upright canvas walls—the zenana, in fact, wherein the Cabul ladies with Hashim Khan had lived. Ayub himself was said to have had only one Kizilbash concubine with him. In this tent there was a small circle of carpet round the central pole, the remainder having been cut away, probably when the order to take to flight was given. Another tent near Ayub’s had been used as a dispensary, and was full of native drugs and of the hospital stores lost by General Burrows. Some of our native doctors were busy in removing such medicines as were still of value. Poor Maclaine’s tent was forty or fifty yards away on the bank of the canal. In every one of the common tents it seemed that some ten or twelve men had been tenants, and the strength of the regular regiments must have been very considerable. Rude screens of branches and boughs of trees had also been raised about the village, no doubt by the host of irregulars swarming in the camp.

An examination of a few of the tents showed a vast amount of rubbish, in the shape of clothes, bedding, cooking vessels, horse-gear, and miscellaneous equipage, with valuable stores of English ammunition. Dried figs, grapes, melons, flour, were scattered about, and in saddle-bags and wallets were all kinds of “portable property” more or less valueless. One bag which I saw ransacked by a kahar, contained a packet of Persian books, carefully wrapped in half a dozen covers of cloth; a store of raisins and a bag of flour; a silk pugree; a change of white clothing; a bridle and stirrups; a purse with a score of copper-pieces in it; a pistol and 100 Enfield cartridges. The ammunition found in the tents must have amounted to many thousands of rounds. Each man seemed to sleep with packets of Martini and Snider cartridges at his side, while the packets made up for Enfields were in heaps in odd corners. One large tent, which had evidently served as the magazine, was filled to the roof with bags of powder and boxes of our breech-loading cartridges. How many rounds we lost on July 27th I do not know, but we have retaken large quantities, while some of our regiments filled up their pouches while in the camp. Brass helmets, kettle-drums, some of the band instruments lost by the 66th, bugles, gold and silver laced coats, were among our loot, and some boxes of Cabuli rupees were also found. But important above all were the thirty-one guns and our two Royal Horse Artillery 9-pounders: the loss of these will break Ayub’s prestige, for when he returns a fugitive to Herat the citizens’ first question will be concerning the artillery he took with him to batter down the walls of Candahar.

I returned to our camp behind Karez Hill by way of the Baba Wali Kotal, and found Ayub’s guns still in position on the platform whence they had fired upon us. He himself had viewed the capture of the village of Mullah Sahibdad from this point. Here considerable engineering skill had been shown; sloping roads had been cut, up which the guns could easily be taken, and a natural line of rocks had been well utilized as a screen for the pieces placed in position. There were no embrasures or gunpits, but the guns were placed so that having been fired over a wall of rocks 4 or 5 feet broad they might then be withdrawn a few yards below, reloaded and run up again to answer our fire. Our 40-pounders had of course made no impression upon the rock, although the shells had pitched upon the wall itself. The gunners could rest in perfect safety when not firing, as a space had been cleared below the rocks and the hill sloped sharply downwards. The narrow road over the Kotal was to the right of the guns, with rocks overhanging it on either side; it had not been interfered with, the enemy knowing that such a converging fire could be brought to bear upon it that it could scarcely be forced. There was a higher position above where the 9-pounders and the two Armstrongs were posted, and here a 7-pounder mountain gun was found. There was splendid cover for infantry lining the rocks, and this had been improved wherever practicable. So strong indeed had the Kotal been made, and so clear of all obstacles was the slope below—a natural glacis—that to have attacked in this direction would have been to court heavy loss, if not a disastrous repulse.

Two sad incidents marred the success of the day: the death of Captain Straton and the murder of Lieutenant Maclaine, who had been a prisoner in Ayub’s hands since the eventful 27th of July. Colonel Brownlow and Captain Frome died gallantly in action, and though we sorrow for the loss of these brave men, there is the consolation that they were at the head of their regiments and in the fore-front of the battle. But Captain Straton’s death occurred at a moment when all seemed over, when we had but to count our losses and collect our spoils. When General Ross had joined Macpherson’s Brigade, halted in rear of the Pir Paimal Ridge, the shells from our 40-pounders were still coming over the Baba Wali Kotal, endangering the safety of any troops pushing on towards Mazra. It was, of course, all-important to stop this shelling of the Kotal, now virtually in our hands, and the easiest way was to send a party of signallers up the hillside to the right of the Kotal, whence the news of our rapid success could be flashed down below. Captain Straton with two mounted signallers was with the brigade, and he was ordered to establish a station on the ridge above. But as there were a few ghazis lingering about, two companies of the 24th P.N.I. were told off to skirmish well in front of him, and clear the ground. Before they could move off, Captain Straton, a man with no sense of personal danger, rode slowly up the slope with his two signallers. He had not gone more than 50 or 60 yards from Generals Ross and Macpherson when a shot was heard, and Captain Straton fell from his horse. A dark figure was then seen to rise from a dip in the ground, fix a bayonet on his rifle and rush forward. The two signallers, men of the 72nd Highlanders, had dismounted by this time, and they fired at 40 yards’ distance, bringing the Afghan down. His bayonet had passed through Captain Straton’s coat, but had not touched the body. The man was bayonetted as he tried to rise. It was discovered that he had already been severely wounded, and could not have hoped to escape; he was not clad in the orthodox white of a true ghazi, but had on a sort of blue uniform, which seemed to indicate that he was a regular soldier, whose fanaticism had prompted him to shoot the first officer who passed him. The bullet from his rifle had passed through Straton’s heart. The decease of Captain Straton is a great loss to the force; the perfect way in which he had controlled the signalling was universally recognized. He never spared himself when hard work had to be done, and the soldiers under him shared his enthusiasm. General Roberts always relied implicitly on him, both on the march and in action, for he knew that if it were possible for heliographing to be done Captain Straton would have his men in position and his instruments at work. The 22nd Regiment have lost as good a soldier as ever wore sword, and there is a gap in Sir Frederick Roberts’s Staff which he will find hard to fill. The second incident is yet again on different lines, for the murder of Lieutenant Maclaine is full of horror. As Sir Frederick Roberts rode into Ayub’s camp word was brought by some native soldiers, belonging to Jacob’s Rifles and the 1st Grenadiers, who had been prisoners with Maclaine, that his body was lying near Ayub’s tent. Major Euan Smith was sent down to test the truth of the story, and found the sepoys had spoken only too truly. Poor Maclaine, with his throat cut deeply across, was lying some short distance from the tent in which he had been confined, about 40 yards from Ayub’s own tent. The story told by the sepoys is that Ayub fled at eleven o’clock with the Cabul sirdars, leaving his prisoners in charge of their guard, with no instructions beyond a verbal order that they were not to be killed. Some hour or more after this the guard rushed into the tents where Maclaine and six other prisoners were kept, and ordered them all out, as they were to be killed. One sepoy was shot through the head, and Maclaine was seized by several Afghans, who threw him down and cut his throat. He was weak and ill from sickness and bad food, and submitted to his fate without a word. Immediately upon this there was a great shout that the English were upon the camp, and the guard fled without touching the five sepoys remaining. The bitterest rage is felt against Ayub, who might, by confiding the officer to the Kizilbash cavalry, easily have ensured his safety. For the future there can be no question of treating with a prince who has thus followed the worst precedents of Afghan history. He is held responsible for Maclaine’s assassination just as much as if he had witnessed it, and our only regret is that the sirdar did not fall under the sabres of our cavalry in the pursuit. Maclaine’s body was carried into the Citadel and was buried with military honours yesterday morning.

The cavalry pursuit resulted in some 400 of the enemy being killed, while our casualties were trifling, only two officers, Lieutenant Baker, of the 3rd Punjab Cavalry, and Lieutenant Chamberlain, of the Central India Horse, being very slightly wounded: the former got a cut on the hand and the latter had his sword-arm bruised a little by the point of a tulwar. General Hugh Gough, with the 9th Lancers, 3rd Punjab Cavalry, 3rd Bengal Cavalry, and the Central India Horse, cut off groups of fugitives who had crossed the Argandab and were making for Khakrez; but no large masses of men were encountered. The delay in not being able to cross the Kokaran ford until eleven o’clock, of course militated against the pursuit being of the harassing kind it would otherwise have assumed. Once the river had been forded the cavalry galloped along on three parallel lines, the 9th Lancers forming the reserve. The 3rd Punjab Cavalry killed over seventy men in one charge alone. General Nuttall, with the 3rd Scind Horse and 3rd Bombay Light Cavalry, also pursued during the afternoon, up the Argandab Valley to the east of the river, killing 100 stragglers.^[49]

Our losses so far as they have been ascertained were, on August 31st and September 1st, as follows:—

This gives a total of killed of all ranks, 46, wounded 202. Two followers were killed and fifteen wounded; twenty horses and three mules were killed; twenty-one horses and three mules wounded.

The list of officers killed and wounded is as follows:—

Lieutenant-Colonel Brownlow, commanding 72nd Highlanders.

Captain Frome, 72nd Highlanders.

Captain Straton, 2-22nd Foot, Superintendent Army Signalling

Captain Murray, 72nd Highlanders.

Lieutenant and Adjutant Munro, 72nd Highlanders.

Lieutenant Menzies, 92nd Highlanders.

Lieutenant Stewart, 92nd Highlanders.

Major Willock, 3rd Bengal Cavalry.

Lieutenant Baker, 3rd Punjab Cavalry.

Lieutenant Chamberlain, Central India Horse.

Lieutenant-Colonel Battye, commanding 2nd Ghoorkas.

Lieutenant-Colonel Rowcroft, commanding 4th Ghoorkas.

Major Slater, 2nd Sikhs.

Lieutenant Chesney, 23rd Pioneers.

The wounds of the last eight officers are not severe.

The death of Colonel Brownlow is a terrible loss to the 72nd Highlanders, and indeed to the army generally. Brave to a fault, he was a model of coolness under fire, and always handled his men with judgment and decision. He was marked for future distinction, his tried ability in the field raising him far above his peers. His untimely death will be felt most keenly by his own officers and men, to whom he had greatly endeared himself.

Candahar during the Siege—Improvement of the Defences—Sketch Map showing the Disposition of the Garrison—The Attitude of the Enemy—Their Plan of Attack—Deb-i-Khwaja Village occupied in force by the Afghans—The Sortie of August 16th—Determined Defence of the Village—Retirement of the Troops—Death of General Brooke—The Sortie falsely called a “Success”—Description of the Afghan Siege Works—Engineering Skill shown by the Naib Hafizulla Parallels—The Training of Guns upon the Shikarpur Gate—The Afghan Karez Trenches on the South—Attempt to form Breaching Batteries—Explanation of the Engineering Skill shown.

Sir Frederick Roberts’s troops were so soon pushed into action after their arrival at Candahar, that the state of the city on the 31st August and the evidence the enemy had left behind of their late uncomfortable closeness to the walls, have been partly forgotten by many of us. When we rode up on the morning of the 31st there was indeed every sign, both within and without the walls, that an enemy had been at the gate. Candahar rises out of the plain quite abruptly; its walls, with their tower-like bastions, obtruding themselves upon one’s notice in rather an unsympathetic way. They shut out from view everything that lies within them, except the tomb of Ahmed Shah and the tower of observation in the citadel. No point of 'vantage enables one to examine what the walls may hide; not until the gates are passed does the character of the city disclose itself. It has been too often described for me to venture to sketch its two broad roads bisecting each other at right angles near the centre of the city; its citadel guarded by a deep ditch; its high walls of a breadth sufficient to make breaching a work of great difficulty even to heavy artillery, and its narrow gates, guarded each by flanking towers which stand out on either hand of the doorway as if the mud-work of the walls had been cut through and folded back to admit of entrance being given. It will be sufficient to say that the defences had been strengthened during the siege by such contrivances as are usually employed to check assaults upon walled towns, and that the gaps and breaks in the bastions and parapet had been filled in with sand-bags, which still remain in all the rough-and-ready state in which they were hastily piled up. On August 31st our first view of Candahar was from near Deh-i-Khwaja, the village against which the sortie of the 16th had been directed. We did not, however, enter by the Cabul Gate, on the eastern face, but by the Shikarpur Gate, facing southwards. It was here that the outer defences had been made strongest, as the enemy’s attack in force was expected from the group of villages lying to the south and south-west, some of the walled vineyards and gardens of which were within 300 yards of the south-west bastion, and less than a mile from the Shikarpur Gate itself. The temporary bazaar outside this gate, established for the benefit of our force marching in from Momand, was formed amidst the abattis, wire entanglements, chevaux-de-frise, and broken-down walls which cumbered the ground and would have impeded the rush of an attacking force. The bastions and parapet bristled with sand-bags, over which the sentries on guard looked down, no doubt with hearty relief as our troops drew up and piled arms preparatory to breakfast. And yet there was no enthusiasm shown at our approach; not a band turned out to play us in, not a cheer was raised to welcome us. Perhaps we had been so near for the last few days that the novelty of being released from a dangerous situation had passed away from the minds of the garrison; perhaps—and I am afraid this is the more likely explanation—the prevailing tone among General Primrose’s troops was one still of depression and want of “heart.”^[50] The reaction had not set in, and the disastrous defeat at Maiwand and the sad result of the sortie, were still remembered with great vividness. There had been undoubted demoralization existing within the walls during the siege, caused by that unreasoning dread of an enemy which always arises after defeat. How far the demoralization spread only commanding officers could really know; but it was impossible that the remnants of a beaten brigade could be brought once more into contact with the main body without producing some ill-effect. Letters which reached us after we left Khelat-i-Ghilzai spoke of the “long faces drawn,” and the depression of which they were the too visible sign. And yet there were over 4,000 effective soldiers, British and native, under General Primrose’s orders. One panic-stricken man may infect a hundred; one panic-stricken regiment an army; and to judge by the stories told by soldiers of the garrison to our own men of the Cabul force, there was a tendency to foster the “ghazi scare,” and to nurse and nurture it until it grew to formidable proportions. Thus our sowars told of the terrible Aimak horsemen who feed their horses on raw meat and charged with such effect that no one could withstand them; that our cavalry would wither away before the flame and smoke breathed from their horses’ nostrils. Our sepoys, nearly all Sikhs and Ghoorkas, were so self-confident that they made no secret of their desire to meet the much-bepraised ghazi-log: they were warned that they did not know what the local ghazis’ fighting powers were, and there was what in Western life would be called “head-shaking” at our rapid movement towards the Pir Paimal Ridge on the 31st. We seemed to local wiseacres to be going right into the jaws of death, whereas our firm belief was that we were rushing into the arms of victory. Our men were impatient to wipe out the disgrace which had fallen on our arms.

To revert to the appearance of the city when we formally relieved it: The flanking bastions which stud the wall at regular intervals are seventy in number. They are really circular towers with that part of the circumference cut away which looks citywards. As they were in a wretched state of repair as regarded their upper layers of sun-dried mud, there was much to be done in building up a new parapet with sand-bags, and their appearance is now most uncouth, each tower seeming “top-heavy” and suffering from an excrescent growth which may yet be in its infancy. The south-west bastion, overlooking the Shikarpur village wherein the enemy were always swarming, was strengthened greatly by these means, embrasures being left through which our 40-pounders could be trained to the east, west, and south. A fantastic appearance was also given to the main walls of the city by cutting down the parapet for 18 inches at points equi-distant from the bastions, and placing upright sand-bags to fill in the gap thus made. Ten riflemen were told off to man each of these gaps, which were 10 feet in length. The necessity for thus improving the parapet was due to the defective system of loopholing in vogue among the Afghans. They pierce their walls with narrow slits, through which it is impossible to see more than a few square yards of ground below; and at night not an object can be seen from nine-tenths of the loopholes. The effect of combined breech-loading fire would be minimized if rifles had thus to be blindly fired into space; whereas by giving men a chance of seeing over the wall and grouping the defenders into tens at fixed points, their fire could be always well-aimed and kept well under control. To repel, for instance, an attack of 5,000 or 6,000 men led by ghazis determined to scale the walls or die in the attempt, fire from the ordinary loopholes would have been thrown away, and only the cross-fire from the nearest bastions could have told; but once the defenders could fire at almost any angle, through the ten-feet gaps I have described, the ground in front of any given point could be swept by continuous volleys. Inside the city one could not fail to be struck with the open display of force made at every available point. There was quite a crowd of European soldiers and Bombay sepoys filling the Shikarpur Gate as General Roberts and his Staff entered the city, and nearly every man seemed to have his bayonet fixed or sword drawn. No doubt Candahar bears an ill-reputation for ghazi-ism, and there were many discontented spirits within its walls even after the 18,000 Pathans had been turned out; but the display of naked weapons certainly struck us poor pilgrims from quieter Cabul as unusual and alarming. Our own revolvers were comfortably reposing on our hips, while we found it was the fashion to carry the pistol in the hand, or a drawn sword, or a hog-spear, or a bayonet fixed on a long stick À la ghazi. In the Char Soo, the covered, arched bit of bazaar, where the chief roads cut through each other, were more men with drawn swords and fixed bayonets. The guards at the gates, at the entrance to the citadel and elsewhere, seemed of great strength; but without wishing to be rudely critical, one could not help feeling that numbers were necessary where the sepoys were of such poor physique. It is dangerous to say a word against the Bombay regiments, as a swarm of eager defenders will start up at once to justify them and to challenge comparison with the army of Northern India. But I must humbly submit that the weedy under-grown sepoys of one or more of the regiments now in Candahar are no more like soldiers than a stage army is like those “cull’d and choice-drawn cavaliers” who won Agincourt. I have not seen a regiment paraded, and I do not know the distinctive dress of any particular regiment, but there the men were before my eyes, and they were certainly sorry apologies for sepoys. The appearance of the citadel was as warlike as that of the city we had passed through, sand-bags and bags of flour, &c., being well to the fore wherever there was a gate to be strengthened or a wall to be made more imposing. The tower in the citadel upon which Captain Keyser, of the 7th Fusiliers, had his chief heliograph station, was topped by a circular wall of bags some five feet high, and from this point there was a good view of all the surrounding country. The northern wall, with the Eedgah Gate, looking towards Mazra, had its complement of the ever-repeating sand-bags, and in the north-west corner bastion was the 40-pounder which had shelled Picquet Hill and our cantonments, when Ayub rashly pitched his tents within range.

It is difficult of course, after a lapse of time, to pick up the threads of a story, especially when that story has for its moral indecision and disaster; and therefore, in dealing with events before and during the siege of Candahar, I have to guard against being led away by the hasty criticism or loose talk of irresponsible persons. I would rather leave such facts as I have gathered to speak for themselves than formulate conclusions which must of necessity be based upon other men’s evidence. Not having seen with my own eyes movements and actions which had most serious results, I can only present them as they were pictured to me by eye-witnesses. To make the story clearer, reasons must be given for certain positive moves made by those holding authority among the besieged garrison; the more general question of passive defence being governed by other conditions, such as the morale and strength of the force at the Lieutenant-General’s disposal, the numbers and capacity of the enemy, and their probable intentions.

Ayub Khan’s forces made their appearance about Candahar on the 7th of August, ten days after the Maiwand defeat, and such was their confidence at that time that they occupied part of our cantonments, and pitched their camp well within range of our 40-pounders. They were soon aware of their error, when shells began to burst even in the Surteep’s tent, and they withdrew to a safer distance, and set to work in a less obtrusive but more systematic way. Against the northern face of the city wall, and, for the most part, against the western face also, they could do nothing; there were no villages or enclosures to cover their movements. To the north the plain is covered with graves, while on the west there is a clear space at least one mile in breadth between the cantonments and the Herat Gate. On the south-west were groups of enclosures with high mud walls, twelve or eighteen inches thick, guarding the orchards and vineyards of Shikarpur and Deh Haji villages which lay in rear of them. These gave cover to their sharp-shooters, good positions for their guns, and accommodation and food to any large body of men they might mass within them. The deep water-channels of an open karez were also available as shelter-trenches and first parallels, if the Afghans so far understood the art of war; and altogether the Shikarpur Gate and the south-west corner bastion of the city wall were likely to be menaced. How admirably the Naib Hafizulla, who was said to be the guiding spirit of Ayub’s army, recognized the advantages of an approach from this direction I will explain presently. There was open country (cultivated fields lying fallow) facing the portion of the southern wall to the east of the Shikarpur Gate; but there were many low walls in this direction also. The eastern face, equally with the Shikarpur Gate and the southwestern line of defence, might be looked upon as attracting an attack, or at least a strong demonstration, owing to the nearness to the Cabul Gate of the large village of Deh-i-Khwaja. The distance in a direct line from the gate to the village walls was less than 1,000 yards, and the intermediate space was not, as on the western face, clear of every obstacle, but was traversed by lands with low boundary walls and by a water-channel running alongside the road leading from the city through the village. Deh-i-Khwaja covers several acres of ground, and as each house has an independent door, and is connected with its neighbour by stout mud walls, the place presents no salient point to a storming party where a position could be seized and made good. In the hands of resolute men each house would become a miniature fort to be taken before the next one could be approached. I suppose this fact was known to the officers who were responsible for the attack ultimately made upon the place. In addition to the cover offered by the low walls between the village and the eastern wall, there was, a few yards outside the Cabul Gate, a pile of buildings used as a serai. We could not of course occupy these, and we had not had time to destroy them. They would have formed the connecting link, and a very strong one, between Deh-i-Khwaja and any party told off to assail the Cabul Gate.

The enemy in their over-confidence, or by wrongly estimating our military power in Afghanistan, intended to reduce the garrison to weakness by starvation, and then to assault two or more gates, the irregulars led by ghazis being anxious to carry the city at the point of the sword. To avoid such a complication as our army cutting its way out, the villages on the south and Deh-i-Khwaja on the east were occupied in force, and earthworks thrown up along the line of karez near the Shikarpur group of villages. Guns were mounted at several points from which shells were pitched with fair accuracy into the citadel or burst over particular bastions. One gun, said to be a 6-pounder, was placed in Deh-i-Khwaja, an embrasure being formed by cutting through a mud wall some twelve feet high, and piling up on either side earth and the dÉbris of a house which these amateur engineers demolished. This gun did little or no damage when it was fired at the Cabul Gate, but the rifle fire from the walls of the village seriously annoyed such working parties as were sent out by the garrison to destroy the low walls bounding the roads through the fields. General Primrose at last ordered that no more parties should go outside the gates, so that the cover existing for an attacking force was left intact. Day by day it was noticed that Deh-i-Khwaja was crowded with men, and suspicion became rife that preparations were being made for forcing the Cabul Gate and “rushing” the defences on that side by a swarm of irregulars. Now the word “ghazi” carried dismay into the hearts of many of the garrison—as it does still no doubt—and it became an open question whether it was not time to break through the inaction which prevailed, and force a fight on a small scale outside the walls. It was impossible to shell the place effectually, as three of our 40-pounders were in position on the north-west and southern bastions, and our 9-pounders over the Cabul and Durani Gate could not hope to be of any great use against thick mud walls and domed houses. The two mortars of the heavy battery might plump shell into the midst of the houses, but they would not scare its defenders away. The original plan of the sortie was, I believe, conceived by Major Hills, Commanding Royal Engineers, who advised that a party of cavalry should be sent out in the early morning by the Eedgah Gate (facing north) and work round in rear of the village of Khairabad, which should then be “rushed” by some 500 or 600 infantry. Khairabad was within 400 yards of the northern walls of Deh-i-Khwaja, and the latter village was to have been taken by an attack in rear, where it was probably undefended. The 6-pounder gun was to be spiked, or brought away if time allowed, and the loopholed walls fronting the city were to be destroyed. There was nothing impossible in this plan, and the sortie, if at all well managed, ought to have proved a success. But certain modifications were made which spoiled all. On the morning of the 16th of August, 300 sabres, under command of Brigadier-General Nuttall, swept round in rear of the village, and, as was expected, the men in Deh-i-Khwaja began to leave, seeing their retreat thus cut off. The usual garrison which flocked in every morning and left at nightfall had not arrived, and they would probably have known but little of the affair until afterwards, if a fatal blunder had not been committed before the infantry went out. This was a cannonade of half an hour’s duration, from the 9-pounders and the two howitzers. General Brooke, commanding 600 men chosen from the 7th Fusiliers, 19th and 28th Native Infantry, asked that the village might be shelled before his troops went out. The unusual noise aroused every armed man in the southern villages, and even those further away on the east; and they poured out to see what was the meaning of the cannonade. They soon learnt Deh-i-Khwaja was being attacked, and they hastened to its assistance. In the meantime our cavalry had a splendid chance at some 400 or 500 men on ground which could not have been better for a charge. But General Nuttall considered the time had not yet come to use his sowars, and he contented himself with following the enemy, who were making for broken ground on the south. Eventually a troop was ordered to charge, and they did good execution; but the fugitives had then got cover and opened a smart fire upon the cavalry, who had to draw off a little, particularly as more men were pressing up from the Shikarpur villages. In the meantime the half-hour’s cannonade had come to an end, and the infantry had moved out; such men as still held the village were on the alert, and our troops were met by a heavy fire from the long line of loopholed walls. The attacking force was divided into three parties of about 200 men each, General Brooke taking the centre party, whose object was to penetrate the village by the road from the city, while the other parties moved off to right and left. It was this central party which suffered the heaviest loss. They rushed along the narrow road with a dry watercourse of some depth on their left hand, passed the gun and got into the village. But they were little better off than before; for every wall was loopholed, every door blockaded. All they could do was to press forward and watch for an opportunity of seizing one or more houses in rear, whence they could work back, clearing the walls and courtyards, so as to allow of the Sappers demolishing the outer wall facing the Cabul Gate. To attempt street fighting was hopeless, as our men could see no enemy; only the muzzles of rifles, many of them breech-loading, looked down upon them. General Brooke forced his way right through the place, and as the rear walls were not loopholed his party had a respite for the time. He then moved along towards the north, but returned when he could find no point which served to give him a chance of making his hold good. The party to the left under Colonel Heathcote did not enter the village but lined the walls in the fields, keeping up a heavy fire to draw off the defenders’ attention. On the right, Trench of the 19th Bombay Infantry had got possession of a large walled garden to the south of the village, whence he drove such of the enemy as made a stand. The sortie was being watched by General Primrose and the garrison from the walls; but owing to a thick haze little could be seen of what was going forward. The continuouscontinuous firing showed the village had not been captured, and swarms of irregulars could now and again be distinguished running across the open country as if making for Deh-i-Khwaja. General Primrose therefore ordered the troops engaged to be recalled, and directed the artillery and infantry on the walls to cover the retirement. The orders were passed on to General Brooke. The two parties under Colonel Heathcote and Trench (killed about this time) began to fall back, leaving the third batch of 200 men, still in the rear of the village, quite unsupported. The cavalry also made for the Cabul Gate; the rifle fire from the enemy, who were following them up, costing them many horses. Our retirement was the signal for the advance of every Afghan who had been held in check by the cavalry in the open. The garden Trench’s party had held was occupied by them, and every wall in the fields in the south-east was lined with their skirmishers. For General Brooke to withdraw safely under such conditions was almost impossible. He tried to make his way back by the road leading through the heart of the village; but the fire from the loopholes was too terrible, and he turned off to his left, coming out into the fields just where a few walls gave cover to his men and enabled them to rally. In the confusion which prevailed his party were mistaken for “ghazis,” and a 40-pounder began to shell them. Fortunately the shells were too high, and did no mischief. No supports were sent out to aid him, though appeals were made to General Primrose to allow skirmishers to line the low walls outside the Cabul Gate in a south-easterly direction.^[51] General Brooke had supported Lieutenant Cruickshank, R.E., severely wounded, and had brought him out of the village. They rested behind a wall while a handful of men were got together to cover their retreat towards the walls, still a thousand yards away. But the fire from the loopholes was too heavy, and as the General tried to cross to the shelter of another wall he was shot down. A sergeant of the 7th Fusiliers with him was killed, and two Bombay Sappers wounded, and then the two officers had to be left to their fate. Their men were harassed by continuous fire at almost point blank ranges, and the sortie ended by forty of our dead being left on the ground, while twice that number of wounded were received within the walls. The details of the killed and wounded, officers and men, are given in the despatches. The total casualties were about 200; and this short story of how the sortie was made and how little it bore the character of a “success,” which I see it has always been called by General Primrose, may help you to appreciate what occurred. There is no charge against the soldiers; all are said to have fought well and to have shown great steadiness; but the departure from the original plan was fatal, and no supports being left for General Brooke’s party to fall back upon, gave the enemy the chance of cutting our men up in detail. There are other features of the sortie which I have no doubt men who were in it can fill up. I have been through Deh-i-Khwaja and over the ground outside, and I can fully appreciate how General Brooke failed to make good his hold of the village.

I have described the position taken up by Ayub Khan’s forces on the eastern side of Candahar, and the sortie made on August 16th against the Deh-i-Khwaja village. Major Hills, the Engineer officer commanding, had warned General Primrose that he would not be responsible for the safety of the city if Deh-i-Khwaja were left untouched, so high an estimate was placed upon the capacity of the enemy. On the 17th the guns directed against the city, more apparently for the purpose of annoying the garrison than with any idea then of systematic bombardment, were the 6-pounder in Deh-i-Khwaja, an Armstrong breech-loader, and one of our Royal Horse Artillery 9-pounders on Picquet Hill, a 6-pounder in an embrasure near the Head-Quarters’ Garden facing the western wall, and another 6-pounder in a garden to the south-west, distant 1,100 yards from the Shikarpur Gate, and somewhat nearer the south-west corner bastion. The guns on Picquet Hill were answered by a 40-pounder in the north-west bastion, and their fire was plainly meant to make the citadel as uncomfortable as possible for the troops crowded within it. One of these guns was silenced on the 16th, and was believed to have been dismounted. The 6-pounder near the Head-Quarters’ Garden was fired at uncertain intervals at the bastions on the western face, in the hope, apparently, of injuring whatever men might be on duty on the wall. It was on the south-west that the greatest pains were taken by Ayub’s amateur “engineers,” and here the contour of the ground favoured them immensely. The group of villages known to the garrison under the general name of Shikarpur was protected by many walled gardens and vineyards, which had in their front two deep karez water-channels, then quite dry, as the canals from the Argandab River and local springs had been blocked so as to cut off the usual water supply of Candahar. The karez in vogue in Southern Afghanistan is different to that we have been accustomed to further north. Instead of an underground canal, with openings at stated intervals, wherefrom the earth excavated is thrown up in mounds, there is a deep open channel cut from six to twelve feet deep, along the banks of which the earth and mud are thrown up so as to form a formidable ditch. The stream at the bottom is of no great depth, and courses along to lower levels very quietly, no rapid fall being allowed. There are usually minor channels running out from the main karez, unless the water has to be taken to a level several miles away from the original spring. The Shikarpur gardens and villages afforded ample cover for a large body of men, and the karez channels in front were seized upon as offering ready-made trenches in which to form batteries and a line of breastworks for riflemen. The “works” raised by the enemy still stand almost untouched, and a few days ago I went over them with an engineer officer who was in Candahar during the siege. From his explanation, and my own observations, I may be able to give a fair idea of the engineering skill which some, at least, of Ayub’s officers could boast. That nothing came of this attempt to raise batteries and breastworks is due to the rapid advance of the relieving force from Cabul, the enemy not having time to complete their lines, and being forced to abandon the siege when it was yet in its infancy. In the sixteen or seventeen days they were at work they made very creditable progress; and, left undisturbed, they might have caused the garrison much trouble and annoyance.

It is believed that the first plan of the Naib Hafizulla, who controlled the Afghan army, was to raise a number of batteries to play upon the Shikarpur Gate and that part of the wall lying between that gate and the south-west bastion; riflemen were to be pushed as near the bastion as possible, sheltered by protecting walls and ditches in the fields; and then an assault was to be made by the fanatical irregulars led by their ghazis. Scaling ladders were to be used, and, under cover of a terrific fire directed upon the defenders of the southern wall, the grand attack was to be delivered. There would probably have been other attacks made from the south-east and east, and the ghazis were confident of success after their victory over General Burrows’s Brigade. The affair of the 16th warned Hafizulla that it was dangerous to have guns exposed to a sudden sortie, and in the Shikarpur direction he took every precaution to guard against an attack from the garrison being successful. Every enclosure had its walls loop-holed above and below, to give a double line of fire, and along every ditch and water-channel clods of earth were piled to form a low projecting parapet for the men lining them. The ground is much broken and cut up in every direction, mounds of earth being scattered at intervals where the cultivators had been compelled to excavate deeply for the karez. Riding towards the outward belt of walled vineyards and gardens—many of the latter containing trees of large growth and thick foliage—we followed the narrow road leading from the city; and at about 1,000 yards from the walls we came upon what our engineers would call the trenches. These were the upper and lower channels of the karez, quite dry, as I have before mentioned. The channels were connected by narrow cuttings eight feet deep, in the most approved manner, in exact imitation of the zig-zag way in which parallels are pushed forward in civilized warfare. These cuttings were not very numerous, it is true, but then the works had not been completed. Instead of the men having to expose themselves by climbing up and down the deep banks of the karez, openings were cut leading to the enclosures and villages in rear. One bend of the karez left the line exposed to flanking fire from the walls of the city, and to negative this traverses of earth and mud had been built up at every 20 feet. This portion of the works was very skilfully done, the parapet in front, as being exposed to shell-fire, being two or three feet thick. In rear of these “trenches” were the batteries in their half-completed state. The low mounds of earth I have spoken of were cut down, and a semicircular space, open in rear, cleared away, the earth being banked up so as to form a substantial parapet facing citywards. Two embrasures had been cut through in each battery, branches of trees being used to strengthen them and allow the earthwork to settle down into solid form. The parapet and its protecting embankment were of sufficient strength to resist the heaviest shell that could be thrown from our own guns. On looking through the embrasures in one battery we found that one gun could be trained upon the Shikarpur Gate and the other upon the south-west bastion. Every thing was completed in this battery, and the marks of wheels showed that a field gun had been in position. A little to the right was a more pretentious battery, plainly meant for three or four guns, judging from the size of the space cleared. The ground was sloped gradually down to the fields in rear of these batteries, and cover could be given to the horses and drivers belonging to the guns. The 6-pounder which fired daily upon the walls had a snug corner to itself in a clump of trees. The embrasure had been made very ingeniously. A bank of earth, 12 or 15 feet thick at its base, had been built up, with its right resting on the trunk of a stout tree with long over-reaching branches. One of these branches, which stretched out at right angles four feet above the ground, had the earthwork piled above and below it, so that it formed a strong support to the embankment. There were two embrasures, one, as usual, pointing upon the Shikarpur Gate; and I believe the gun was so hidden by the foliage of the trees that from the walls it was difficult to detect the embrasures except by the flash of the gun. Some of our shells had been, however, well pitched, the trunk of the tree being barked and splintered. The gunners were quite safe, of course, unless a shell actually burst in the embrasure itself, which was extremely unlikely. Standing in rear of the earthwork one could appreciate the security of the men who had held it, and with what impunity they could bang away at our bastions. The line of karez was followed in a westerly direction, and all along its banks we traced the low parapet formed of clods of earth. The walls of the enclosure had their rows of loopholes, and when working parties were sent out from the city three days after the raising of the siege, they found that good cover existed to within 300 yards of the corner bastion. There was always lively rifle-fire going on whenever any one showed on the parapet of the city wall, but the Afghans outside had generally the best of the position, as they were quite hidden from sight. A piece of open ground in rear of the karez between two enclosures was rather a dangerous place for them to cross, although 1,000 yards from the walls. Marksmen with Martinis fired volleys whenever they saw a group hurrying across, and the bullets generally told. Many of the walls have been thrown down by our working parties; and in one garden, full of large trees casting a pleasant shade, is the Field Hospital of the garrison. Thence we passed towards the Head-Quarters’ Garden (now occupied by General Phayre and his Staff), and had a look at the embrasure whence a 6-pounder used to fire into the city. The gun was placed on the steep bank of the main karez, and was banked up to its muzzle, which was some ten feet above the bottom of the water cut. There was broken ground in front, intersected by irrigation channels, and in rear some low-walled enclosures in which are now located a number of our transport animals. Here my interesting journey came to an end, and I returned to quarters in cantonments, favourably impressed with the rude evidences of the enemy’s skill. It was at first believed that a European adventurer was with Ayub Khan, from the admirable way in which his artillery was handled and the dispositions made for investing Candahar; but this idea is now exploded. It is more probable that there were in Herat men who had seen service in the Turkish army in Asia Minor, or even north of the Bosphorus, in the late war against Russia. These men could have picked up some idea of entrenchments and be able to apply their knowledge under the direction of the Naib, the only Afghan General who seems to know how to handle his men. Others there may be who have learned a smattering of the principles of civilized warfare in Persia or the Russian Khanates; but in any case there was a decided improvement in their method to that of the men we fought in and about Cabul.

An Account of the Defeat of General Burrows at Maiwand—The Disaffection among the Wali’s Troops—Intrigues between Local Sirdars and Ayub Khan—The Desertion of the Wali’s Infantry—General Burrows at Girishk—His Orders—Ayub Khan’s Line of Advance from Farrah—The Helmund River Fordable at all Points—The Routes from Girishk to Candahar—Strategical Importance of Girishk—General Burrows’ Council of War on July 15th—Retirement of the Brigade upon Khusk-i-NakhudRetirement of the Brigade upon Khusk-i-Nakhud—Defective Cavalry Reconnaissances—Ayub Khan’s Advance upon Maiwand—His Arrival at Sangbur—General Burrows’ Movement from Khusk-i-Nakhud to intercept the Afghan Army—The Action at Maiwand—Comparative Strength of the British and Afghan Forces—General Burrows’ First Disposition of Attack—An Artillery Duel—The effect upon the Brigade of acting on the Defensive—Advance of the Afghan Irregulars—The Behaviour of Jacob’s Rifles on the Left—Confusion among the Native Troops—Defeat and Rout of the Brigade—Ineffectual Attempt to make the Cavalry Charge—The Retreat to Candahar.

From such sources as I have been able to draw upon, I have gained a fairly exact idea of the circumstances attending General Burrows’ defeat on the 27th of July, and I am now writing what, perhaps, is the first unofficial account of the Maiwand disaster. Taking up the story from the mutiny of the Wali’s troops on the 14th of July, it would seem that though General Burrows succeeded on that occasion in recapturing the 6-pounder smooth-bore battery, there was not that severe punishment inflicted upon the mutineers which would have been their just reward. The disaffection in the Wali Shere Ali’s army was well known in the British camp, and decisive measures might have been taken for disarming the 2,000 infantry soldiers before they had fully made up their minds to desert. But that indecision which was the ruling power in the Girishk Brigade was all-powerful even in the early days of July; and there was, perhaps, also the feeling in the political mind that it was too early to acknowledge how mere a shadow the Wali’s authority was, and how worthless was his so-called army. The fact that Nur Mahomed Khan, “the Surteep,” had been wholly won over to Ayub’s side, must surely have been known to the Wali, who was no doubt also tempted to throw over the British. One of the Candahar regiments, even before it marched to the Helmund, was greatly disaffected; but as the Wali had officered his “army” from this particular regiment there was a disinclination to disband it, as the other regiments might have given trouble. Thus the Surteep was allowed full scope to work out his plans, and his subsequent desertion followed in the natural order of things. His character as a hospitable entertainer of British officers had won him some goodwill; but there were those who suspected his loyalty to us, and were doubtful of his relations with Ayub Khan. For months there must have been secret correspondence between this man and the Herat leaders, who were no doubt kept fully informed of all our movements, and furnished with exact details of our local strength. That such a truly Afghan intrigue should not have been detected, proves how small was the sympathy really felt for us in Candahar, and the question arises was the Wali unacquainted with the plot to seduce his army when the occasion served? If he were not, he must indeed be an exception to the general rule, for Afghan sirdars are so well versed in intrigue that they can usually detect danger when our political officers believe all is going smoothly and satisfactorily. But on July 14th the plot came to a head, and General Burrows found himself left, with a weak brigade, alone on the Helmund. Nominally, he had been supposed to act in support of the Wali’s army; but this farce had come to an end, and his position was defined only too clearly: he had to meet single-handed whatever force Ayub could muster. Our late “allies” were in the ranks of the enemy; the Wali’s army had ceased to exist; and the Surteep’s desertion would probably be followed by the rising of the armed peasantry of Zamindawar and the surrounding districts, for the Sirdar’s example could not fail to influence ignorant men. If a chief of such importance had declared for Ayub, surely, it would be argued, the British were in great straits. Now comes the moot point as to what were General Burrows’ orders, and what expectation he had of being reinforced from Candahar. Regarding the first, I believe I am perfectly right in stating that he was ordered to “stop Ayub Khan and disperse his troops if possible.” On the question of reinforcements I am more doubtful; but I state pretty confidently that General Primrose had decided that Candahar could not spare another regiment to strengthen the Girishk Brigade, even under the altered conditions reported to him after the mutiny. General Burrows was not relieved of his task of “stopping Ayub,” and there must have been an over-weening confidence in the mind of the General commanding at Candahar in respect to the fighting power of the regiment with his absent Brigadier. That there was not the same feeling among the officers of the brigade itself is now well known, and one paragraph from the letter of an artillery officer, dated July 19th, and published soon afterwards, is so true an estimate of the situation that I cannot refrain from quoting it. He wrote:—

It devolved upon General Burrows to decide what course would be most calculated to bar Ayub’s progress, and on July 15th he wisely called together his commanding officers and held a small council of war. The day was not wasted in idle discussion, as while opinions were being exchanged our gunners were horsing and equipping the captured guns, the teams of which had been used by the mutineers to aid them in their flight. Many considerations had to be weighed in council. First, the position of the enemy the brigade were bound to “stop and disperse if possible.” Such information as Colonel St. John possessed favoured the belief that the enemy’s cavalry under the Naib Hafizulla were still distant 30 miles from the bank of the Helmund, and that the main body with the guns was several marches in rear of this advanced party. Ayub’s line of advance was along the main Herat Road, and he would probably enter the Helmund Valley near the Khoja Baba Peak, a high point of the range of hills which run parallel to the course of the river. This peak is 30 miles in a bee-line from Girishk, and between it and the river is an open plain, waterless, but otherwise quite easy for a force of all arms to cross. There was this plain still between the brigade and Ayub’s advanced cavalry, so that the two forces were scarcely “in touch,” more particularly as it was imperatively laid down in instructions from the Government of India that the Helmund River was not to be crossed under any circumstances. General Burrows was to wait for the enemy to appear before him, and his council of war had to decide at what point so to wait. The Helmund is usually fordable at only four points: Sangin on the south, Hyderabad, Girishk and Kalabist (at the junction with the Argandab). From these fords four roads converge on Candahar: the northern by way of the Malmund and Maiwand Passes, practicable for wheeled artillery; the two central passing through Khusk-i-Nakhud, and the southern route vi Balakhana and the Bund-i-Taimur. Of these four routes, that most commonly used, on account of its directness, water and other supplies, is the road passing through Khusk-i-Nakhud from Girishk. Hence the value of Girishk as a strategical point at which to hold in check an army advancing from the west upon Candahar. But that strategical value had almost disappeared, as the Helmund, owing to an exceptionally dry season, was everywhere fordable for men on foot, thus allowing Ayub to cross it wherever he might choose and avoid Girishk. Furthermore, when the question of supplies was entered into, it appeared that the brigade had been quite dependent upon grain and forage collected by the Wali and stored near the fort on the eastern bank of the river. What supplies had existed on the 18th had either been carried off or destroyed by the mutinous regiments, leaving Girishk practically unable to provide longer for our troops. The necessity of at once finding supplies made a move from Girishk unavoidable, and General Burrows and his officers had determined what direction should be taken. The opinion of the majority favoured a retirement to Asu Khan, whence all the roads could be commanded and supports easily drawn from Candahar. This, of course, took it for granted that Ayub Khan meant to march direct upon Candahar and not turn off northwards for Ghazni and Cabul; and the retirement was advocated also on the ground that the brigade was not strong enough, unsupported, to meet the enemy in an open fight. There was a bolder proposal to move northwards to Hyderabad, retaining the Helmund as our advanced line, but this found little support. Finally the middle course of a partial retirement was agreed on, the brigade to fall back instantly upon Khusk-i-Nakhud. This would place General Burrows upon the central road to Candahar, and therefore commanding, to a certain extent, the northern and southern routes; the force would also be only some 50 miles from head-quarters, whence it was hoped new orders would be received, and possibly reinforcements. This was the result of the little council of war held at Girishk, and it seems to have been just and reasonable. To have stayed at Girishk was almost impossible, as supplies were exhausted: to have moved to Hyderabad would have involved serious risk if Ayub’s army were joined by the people of the district; while to have fallen so far back as Asu Khan before a shot had been fired would have seemed excessive timidity. Khusk-i-Nakhud was an admirable point from which to watch Ayub’s passage of the Helmund, and thence to ascertain his strength and probable intentions.

On July 15th a night march was made, and on the morning of the 16th the brigade encamped on their old ground at Khusk-i-Nakhud. On the following days the troops moved two miles nearer to Mis Karez, and took up a position which they occupied until the morning of the 27th. The stores were placed in a small walled enclosure, and the baggage laagered up ready for all emergencies. Spies, furnished by the Wali, were busy during the next few days in bringing news of Ayub’s movements. Their story was that the Afghan force was distributed in the dry river-bed between the Girishk and Hyderabad fords; it made no signs of moving eastwards, and the opinion began to prevail that Ghazni and not Candahar was Ayub’s objective. Reconnaissances were made every day by General Nuttall’s cavalry, but they were not of the kind to preserve touch with an enemy. Thus a troop or so visited Garmao, Sangbur, and the Bund-i-Taimar daily, as if for a constitutional ride, baited their horses, looked around, and returned. Their movements were so beautifully regular that every peasant knew at what time to expect them. Ayub’s movements were never really watched at all, though sufficient cavalry were with the brigade to have allowed of regular outpost work being done, instead of a few hours’ visit daily to the same villages. It was not until the 21st that Ayub’s cavalry pushed forward from the Helmund and exchanged shots with our reconnoitring party at Sangbur. The next day the village was found to be held by them, and news reached camp that 500 sowars were to seize Maiwand within twenty-four hours. There were stores of grain lying in the fields about Maiwand, and fearing they would fall into Ayub’s hands, General Burrows ordered a squadron of cavalry to destroy the grain. They had only gone a few miles from Khusk-i-Nakhud when they were fired upon by a large body of Afghan cavalry, who were reconnoitring our position with some boldness. Our cavalry scouts, deceived by the haze, reported that two regiments of infantry were supporting the hostile cavalry, and the Horse Artillery and some infantry were sent out from Khusk-i-Nakhud. It turned out to be a myth; there were no Afghan infantry, and by this time their cavalry were retiring in perfect safety. The guns certainly fired a round or two after them, but our sowars missed their chance of a charge, scared by the report that infantry were hidden under some low hills. Sangbur contained no enemy on the 24th, but in the same neighbourhood on the 25th two of the Scind Horse were killed, the Afghan sowars being again on the move. So late as the 26th it was believed all Ayub’s guns were at Hyderabad, and that no movement in the direction of the Malmund Pass had been made. The Afghan army was then believed to be about 12,000 strong, counting regulars alone, while the number of ghazis and irregulars from Zamindawar was said to be very large. Ayub’s advance could not be exactly foreshadowed, but from his position at Hyderabad it was most likely that he would try to reach Maiwand through Sangbur, as none of his troops were reported to be on the longer route vi the Malmund Pass.

The camp at Khusk-i-Nakhud was once more aroused on the afternoon of the 26th by positive news of a demonstration in the Maiwand direction, that village having been occupied by 200 irregulars, while Garmao, five miles away, was said to be held in strength by cavalry. The conclusion arrived at upon this becoming known was that Ayub meant to occupy Maiwand by a sudden move without joining battle with our troops, and that not improbably he would thence try to slip away through the Maiwand Pass so as to place himself between the brigade and Candahar.^[52] Spies also led General Burrows and Colonel St. John to believe that the main body must be still a march in rear of the cavalry at Garmao.^[53] In view of this, it seemed important to seize Maiwand before it could be occupied in force, more particularly as the brigade had been for some days drawing its supplies from that village, and stores of grain still remained in its neighbourhood which would fall into Ayub’s hands. The distance from Khusk-i-Nakhud to Maiwand was twelve miles, and a rapid march to the latter place might anticipate Ayub’s movements and enable the brigade to clear GarmaoGarmao of the Naib and his advanced cavalry. All this was of course on the supposition that the main body of the Afghan army with the thirty odd guns was well in rear of the cavalry—an unfortunate supposition as it afterwards turned out, but one due to the wretched information resulting from the cavalry “reconnaissances.”

General Burrows, on the night of the 26th, issued orders for the whole brigade, baggage and stores included, to march at daybreak on the following morning. At such short notice the large quantity of reserve supplies in the walled enclosures could not be got out in time, and it was not until half-past six that the troops left Khusk-i-Nakhud. The route taken was along the right bank of the Khusk-i-Nakhud river-bed, then quite dry. There was a strip of cultivation near the bank, but beyond, on either hand, lay arid, stony plains. The brigade halted at eight o’clock at Mushak, to enable the baggage to close up. This occupied half an hour, and then the march was continued, the next place reached being Karezak. Here, for the first time, the unexpected news was brought by our spies that the whole of Ayub’s force was on the left front, marching on Maiwand. The cavalry were sent out to reconnoitre, and found large bodies of horsemen moving in the direction indicated; but the haze and mirage prevented our sowars making any estimate of what force was covered by the cavalry. This was about 10 o’clock, and yet even with the aid of telescopes little could be seen of Ayub’s army. Spies reported that the guns were there; but this news was looked upon by the General with great mistrust, natives being so given to exaggeration. General Burrows moved his troops at once rapidly towards Maiwand, meaning to occupy one of the large walled enclosures wherein to stow his 3,000 baggage animals and their loads, thus leaving the brigade freedom of movement in attacking the Afghan army. It was too late. Before the intervening village of Mundabad was gained, a large number of white-clothed figures, irregulars who follow their moollahs' dictation and their ghazis’ lead, were seen pouring out from Maiwand itself. The enemy’s cavalry ceased to retire, and along the slopes of the low hills above Garmao could be distinguished masses of men in some sort of organized formation. The haze still lay over the country, and it was impossible to make out in detail the strength of the army thus suddenly confronting the weak brigade. The ground on which the action which followed was fought is thus described to me by an officer present:—“A small stream, rising in the hills immediately north of Maiwand, formed almost the only drainage line intersecting the barren waste in our front. It ran successively past the villages of Mundabad, Karezak, and Mushak, eventually disappearing in a karez. Between this stream and the dry bed of the Khusk-i-Nakhud river the ground was level and cultivated, dotted occasionally with high walled enclosures, but generally open.” General Burrows had with him, approximately, 1,500 rifles, 550 sabres, and 12 guns, of which 6 formed the smooth-bore battery, manned by one officer and 42 men of the 66th Foot. He resolved to force the fighting; and four guns of the Horse Artillery Battery (E-B) with the cavalry crossed the dry nullah forming the bed of the Khusk-i-Nakhud stream, followed by the 66th Foot, 1st Bombay Grenadiers, and Jacob’s Rifles with the smooth-bore guns. The baggage crossed in rear under an escort of two companies of infantry, a squadron of cavalry, and two horse artillery guns. The nullah having been crossed, the troops advanced about a mile and formed up in line in the following order:—66th Foot on extreme right, guns in the centre, with a wing of Jacob’s Rifles and the Sappers as escort, Grenadiers on left, a wing of Jacob’s Rifles in reserve behind the guns. The cavalry were at first on the extreme left guarding the flank of the Grenadiers.

SKETCH
OF
ACTION AT MAIWAND
27th JULY 1880.
Drawn from a Sketch by Lieut. M. Talbot,
R.E. when the field was subsequently
visited in September.