FOOTNOTES:
[38] The best cimiters are of steel made in Persia, where they are so hard and highly polished as to take the keenest edge; but this makes them necessarily very brittle.
[39] Had the Shah paid less attention to meretricious ornament, and more to its defensive requisites, it would have contributed much to his credit and safety.
[40] He must have been a stonemason, for it was beautifully carved.
[41] Colonel Arnold fell in the same charge, and with the same squadron, as Howard, the kinsman of Byron, immortalized in "Childe Harold".
[42] The passes of Dera Ismael Khan, I have neglected to notice, as, after an active survey, they were reported impracticable for artillery.
[43] Had Dost Mahomed adopted these measures, it is probable Sir John Keane would never have obtained nobility.
[44] At this period, there could be little doubt who were the expected enemy, for Pottinger had proceeded, with a promise of assistance, to Herat.
[45] Russia denies this big word.
[46] This irony is unbecoming the character of a plenipotentiary.
[47] The names of the chiefs who fell cannot be a matter of general interest; but those who have any curiosity on the subject, may find the list in General Willshire's despatch.
THE ARMY AT CAUBUL BROKEN UP—MARCH OF SIR JOHN KEANE'S ESCORT BY JELLALABAD, AND THROUGH THE KHYBER-PASS, TO PESHAWUR.
The army of the Indus having effected the object for which they had been assembled, it was resolved to leave Shah Soojah to the charge of his loving subjects, supported by the contingent, and a small portion only of the force. The country being ill-adapted for cavalry, the news that the brigade, excepting one native regiment, were to be withdrawn, was received by the greater part with decided satisfaction; for many began to pine with regret at the protracted absence from their amiable halves; others were anxious to bind themselves in rosy (or thorny?) fetters; and, last and least, a few, after a long and painful estrangement, sighed deeply to participate once more in the pleasures of that deity, whose benign influence has been said to surpass "all that life can supply"—riches, love, ambition, friendship—
"For what tongue will avow
That friends, rosy wine, are so faithful as thou?"
So wrote the virtuous and inconsistent Byron; and I have no doubt that a few habitual drunkards may concur in such an opinion.
The sole recommendation to Caubul was the temperate climate, which served to invigorate many who had severely felt the fatigues and exposure of this campaign, or who still suffered from the effects of their Indian enemy. To those who took pleasure in an active life and field-sports, our present quarters were irksome. The country possessed no attractions for the sportsman; and even in the pursuit of small game at any distance from camp, it was necessary to go prepared for more serious encounters; inasmuch as any straggler from the party stood an uncommonly good chance of being bagged by some Afghan huntsmen, whose sporting propensities led them to pursue white game with quite as much zest as ever, though, from the royal proclamation, it might be inferred that the season had closed.
Not satisfied with simply destroying their prey, these wild beasts mutilated the dead bodies, and arranged them in fanciful attitudes. Occasionally, a leg would be cut off, and placed under the head, for a pillow; the head itself would sometimes be found supported by the hands, in lieu of the neck; and I have seen things in a man's mouth which were never intended by nature to occupy such a situation.
To the antiquarian, Afghanistan presented some interest and employment in the collection of coins and antiques: many of the former were bought from the Afghans, bearing the names of the ancient Bactrian dynasty, and successors of Alexander the Great. The Afghans had, however, imbibed so great a taste for these antiquities, when they discovered the value we set upon them, that the manufacture and sale of the most ancient Bactrian coins is becoming a trade of some profit. Even at this day, both the Sikhs and Afghans converse with great interest on the feeble tradition they possess of events which occurred in the days of Shah Sikunder (Alexander the Great) and his generals, who subsequently governed this country. Alexander's Eastern expedition, the countries which he traversed, the localities of his engagements, and the modern names of the nations with whom he fought, have been much veiled in obscurity, owing to the very slender knowledge possessed by Europeans of the countries lying between Persia and Chinese Tartary.
The numerous ancient coins and reliques, monuments of Grecian design, the tradition of the natives, and the names borne by many ancient cities of Afghanistan and the Punjaub, (some of which, at the present day, assimilate much to those recorded by historians,) being matters of recent discovery, will tend to assist the classic labourer in such an investigation with materials which have hitherto been wanting or imperfect. As several officers who were with the army have succeeded in making extensive collections of ancient coins, I trust that, ere long, these may tend to throw some light on the interesting subject. The evidence of Alexander's advance into Hindostan, south of the Sutlej, is very vague, especially as the princes of India made no attempt to oppose his approach towards their frontier, as the more warlike nations of Afghanistan and the Punjaub undoubtedly did; and Porus, with his herds of elephants, marks pretty accurately the neighbourhood of the Hydaspes in the modern Jelum, because the country north of Peshawur is unfitted to nurture elephants. South of the Jelum or Hydaspes, I conceive the difficulty of tracing his route to be much greater, for the rivers are so numerous in the rainy season, and have changed their courses so materially, that the modern streams must differ considerably, both in number and position, from the ancient.
The accounts from the north of the Hindoo Koosh, about the beginning of October, showed the probability of a storm arising, ere long, in that quarter, directed by the hand of Dost Mahomed; and, in consequence, Sir John Keane ordered the whole of the Bengal infantry division to stand fast, for the present, in Afghanistan, for the security of Shah Soojah, who daily prophesied that our departure would be his death warrant.
The commander-in-chief himself, having resolved on returning to England, now signified in general orders, that on his departure the supreme command would devolve on Sir Willoughby Cotton.
The cavalry-brigade, (except the 2nd Native Cavalry, which was left in Afghanistan,) with a detachment of the European Regiment, and a few Sappers, formed the whole of the returning party escorting his excellency.
I little thought, at the time of quitting Bengal, that any fit of desperation could ever induce me to look forward with anything like pleasure to a residence in Hindostan; yet an experience of a few months' sojourn in the inhospitable and dreary wastes of Afghanistan proved that there were worse places on the face of this chequered globe than India.
Our retrospect, since leaving Merut, was not a very attractive one. Nearly a year had now been spent under canvas, or, more frequently, under the canopy of heaven, with a fierce sun scorching us unmercifully by day, and occasionally a damp chill to vary it by night. During the year, we had risen nearly every day about two or three hours before daybreak, and undergone the monotonous and wearisome marches, which resembled at last, in many respects, the morning's employment of a malefactor at the treadmill; and, to crown all, we had arrived at last in a country of rocks, savages, and starvation, where our chief occupation consisted in hunting continually for an enemy, who took care to deny us the excitement anticipated in the discovery. Such having been, with trifling exceptions, the result of our campaign, every source of employment, beyond that above mentioned, was confined to the narrow limits of a little canvas world, peopled almost entirely by the grosser sex of black and white; for the small portion of the opposite sex and former colour who sojourned amongst us, were scarcely attractive enough to remind one of the generic distinction which existed. To these hardships, and others in addition, we would more cheerfully have submitted, had an enemy kept us on the alert, and played, on an extensive board, the rough game of war; but the only enemies we had met were scarcely deserving such a name—ensconcing themselves behind mud walls, or perched on inaccessible heights—and as there appeared now little chance of tilting with the Afghan clans in the open field, it was with feelings of pleasure we looked forward to an emancipation from the barren mountains of Afghanistan.
The Punjaub was, at this period, in so distracted a state, that the government of the country betrayed a marked anxiety that we should not become witnesses of their anarchy and disunion. Even in the days of Runjeet Singh, the Sikhs beheld with feelings of uneasiness the advance and establishment of the British outposts on the Sutlej; and the passage of troops through their country caused even greater jealousy and alarm, for they considered, not perhaps without some foundation, from a few precedents in the East, that when the English had once got a footing, they might take a fancy to remain there.
In the present crisis of affairs, it was apprehended that these Sikh scruples would act as a temporary obstacle to our departure; but, fortunately for us, the court of Lahore yielded a reluctant assent to our passing through their country, and on the morning of the 15th of Oct. we quitted Caubul.
The breaking up of a long-standing camp is a scene of no trifling bustle and confusion. The previous day is usually one of considerable trouble to those who have suffered their marching-establishment to get out of order; and when it is requisite to replace a camel or a bullock, the new comer, even if found, (and that is generally at a ruinous price,) not unfrequently evinces the most marked repugnance to tents or bullock-trunks. Yet, however great the difficulty, the peremptory necessity of the habitation being moved before next morning, causes all to be prepared at sunset, either by a reduction of baggage, or increase of cattle, save the more provident campaigners, who rectify such deficiencies without delay. The earliest practicable hours are kept by all off duty, and two hours after sunset the camp (if well regulated) is quiet enough, unless a horse breaks loose and sets the whole brigade in a state of ferment; for all seem to take a deep interest in the progress of any mad animal who tears through the camp, with ropes and pegs flying in wild confusion about his heels. As night advances, even these stray madcaps betake themselves to rest, and the quiet is only disturbed by the hourly tramp of patrols, or the challenge of a sentry. This gloom and stillness are suddenly dissipated by the shrill startling blast of the trumpet, wakening all around to consciousness and activity. The loud and continued neigh from the pickets, and the angry remonstrances of the camels, amidst the extensive buzz of human voices and barking of dogs, tell that man and brute are both aware of the time having come for their allotted duties. Sticks and dry grass raked into pyramids are sending forth volumes of smoke in one place, and in another are rising into high crackling fires, round which may be seen groups of dusky figures squatted together, inhaling their morning hookahs, or spreading their long bony hands to the flames, and listlessly regarding their more assiduous brethren occupied in striking the tents, or fitting loads on the backs of the beasts of burden. But think not, my lazy fire-worshipper, this indolence is unobserved; the eye of the occupant of yonder tent is upon you: he advances softly towards the fire, his arm is raised, and the descending lâttie causes a momentary scene of flight and confusion which is immediately succeeded by a zealous attention to duty, proving the salutary force of the "Argumentum ad baculum." Although this is not an orthodox, logical, or even legal argument, it is, nevertheless, frequently used in India, and is generally conclusive. Next morning, the voice, unaccompanied by manual exercise, will produce the desired effect.
The loads being packed, and all the tents, save three or four lazy stragglers, having disappeared, the second trumpet sends its shrill echoes through the lines, and gives warning that the treadmill will soon be at work. Beware of that camel's mouth gaping close to your hand in the dark, or he will spoil it for holding a rein or a sabre; and beware the treacherous tent-peg, which lurks in savage gloom for the shins of the unwary. "It is no use cursing the peg. Why did you not get out of its way when you found it was not inclined to get out of yours?" cries a facetious neighbour, as you stoop to rub the lacerated shin, and narrowly escape being trampled by an elephant, who is hustling off with a few hundred weight of canvas and tent-poles hanging about him.
The third trumpet and a cup of boiling coffee generally accompany each other, if your khansanah belong to the right Dean Swift's breed; and it is no punishment to insist on his drinking it himself—the man would swallow a cup of cayenne and fire, without winking.
The troops are formed in dusky masses on their alarm-posts; the commanding-officer rides along the line; the word of command is given, and passed down the squadrons; the welcome note for the march is heard, and the tramping of the steeds raises an impenetrable cloud of dust around the column, as we cheerfully turn our backs on Caubul, most probably for ever; the band prophetically striking up, "Ha til mi tulidh," or something which I mistook for it.
Sir John Keane marched with the head column, consisting of the 16th Lancers, one troop of Horse Artillery, and four companies of Native Infantry. General Thackwell followed, the next day, with the 3rd Native Cavalry, detachments of Infantry, and the state prisoners, Hyder Khan, late governor of Ghuzni, and Hadji Khan Kaukur. The former was destined for Bombay, the latter, for Bengal, where it was intended to place him in close confinement at Chunar, on the Ganges; but this was afterwards commuted for a more salutary and agreeable durance at Landour, where Hadji Khan had little cause to complain of the severity of his captors.
The 2nd Bengal Cavalry, which were left at Caubul, soon afterwards had an opportunity of distinguishing themselves at Purwan Durrah, in an encounter with Dost Mahomed. The Ameer having been nearly surrounded by his enemies, and entertaining a low opinion of the courage of the Native Cavalry, resolved to dash through the circle at the post held by the above-named corps, and accompanied by a determined body of his adherents, he charged two squadrons of the 2nd Cavalry.
The officers of the regiment having tried unsuccessfully to induce their men to follow, formed a line, and gallantly charged the Afghan force. Three of the regiment were killed, and most of the remainder severely wounded; but such was the moral effect of this behaviour, that Dost Mahomed exclaimed, "that war against such a nation must be hopeless."
The dastardly black fugitives who had been spectators, during their flight, of the self-devotion and butchery of their officers, spread themselves in the wildest disorder and affright, but the avenging cimeters of the Afghans soon flashed amongst them, and dealt a partial retribution for their detestable cowardice.
The number of this regiment was afterwards erased from the list of the Company's troops, and the corps was disbanded at Kurnaul, with the exception of one squadron, which, not having been present at Purwan Durrah, was distributed throughout the remaining regiments of Native Cavalry. The officers were provided with various situations in the Company's service, and subsequently incorporated in a new cavalry regiment, (the 11th.)
Some attempts to palliate the conduct of the 2nd Cavalry, on this occasion, have been attempted; and I have heard it adduced in extenuation, that the men (save the mark!) had no confidence in their arms and equipments or their horses' bits—that they reverenced Dost Mahomed and the Afghans as the heads of their religion[48]—and that British cavalry have also been known to be backward.
Regarding the first of these assertions, we need but ask—Is not the Native Cavalry soldier as carefully instructed in the use of his weapon as the English Dragoon? If he be, there is no reason for his running away. If he be not, I cannot admit that a brave man is likely to run away with a piece of English steel in his hands, because he thinks he is not sufficiently instructed in the use of the sabre, or because he prefers Hindustanee manufacture.
In answer to the second apology, it is only requisite to state, that if they did respect the Afghans as brother Mussulmans, experience should long before have taught them that the feeling was by no means mutual. The irregular horse were affected with no such compunctions, but evinced a laudable desire to destroy their enemies, when called upon to do so, on several occasions, in Afghanistan.
To the third charge, I must plead guilty of ignorance; for I cannot remember having heard or read of any British cavalry regiment absconding in the face of an enemy, and leaving their officers to charge, unaided by a single trooper of the corps.[49]
On quitting our camp at Caubul, we marched over a rough and stony road for about ten miles, and encamped on some high grounds. In the afternoon, we experienced a smart shock of an earthquake here, which appeared to come rumbling towards us from the mountains of the Hindoo Koosh, and upset nearly everything in our tents. From the elevated ground on which we were encamped, we had a farewell view of Caubul and the noble chain of the Indian Caucasus, still clad in bright snowy garments.
The next morning, we entered a steep, rocky[50] pass, between two ranges of mountains, where the cold before sunrise was intense, and the aspect certainly the most dreary we had hitherto experienced. We emerged, half frozen, from this stony sepulchre, and gladly thawed ourselves in the sun, which shone dimly on the platform of rock where our camp was pitched.
Each day, as we advanced, the roads (if they can be deemed worthy such a title) became decidedly worse. Our third day's march lay through another narrow defile, across which dashed several rapid mountain torrents at intervals of about a mile from each other. The next day's occupation was a steep, rocky ascent, and an equally sudden fall, which caused a corresponding one with our unfortunate beasts of burden.
A succession of deep, stony ravines, and occasionally sharp-pointed rocks, presented the next variety.
On the 7th of March, we wound up a long gradual ascent of some twelve or fourteen miles, and on descending from this elevation two guns were discovered not far off the road, embedded in the sand. These had been abandoned here by Dost Mahomed's son, (Mahomed Akbar,) when retreating from the gorge of the Khyber to join his father previous to their flight from Urghundee.
On the eighth march from Caubul, we descended into the celebrated valley of Neemla, where Shah Soojah had been finally defeated in 1809, and expelled from his kingdom. It is a small, well-cultivated valley, surrounded by barren, craggy mountains, (as is the case, indeed, with almost every valley in the country.) If the numbers present at this battle are correctly stated, it must have been a business of tolerably close quarters, and little scope could have been afforded for manœuvring: but the Afghans are not much addicted to wasting time in military operations. A favourite mode of attack is the chupao, or surprise by night, (which was practised at Neemla,) and if the enemy be found prepared, or the first charge prove unsuccessful, they prefer reserving their energies for a more favourable opportunity, to pressing the matter any further under such critical circumstances as a spirited resistance might entail. The party making the night attack certainly act under the more favourable circumstances of the two, as in case of failure a retreat is open under cover of the darkness, and unmolested; whereas, the party attacked once getting into disorder, can scarcely hope to rally under such disadvantageous circumstances. Thus it was at the battle, or, rather, the route of Neemla, where Shah Soojah was encamped, with a force exceeding fifteen thousand men, whilst his adversary, with barely two thousand fighting men, coming down suddenly during the night, took the Shah so completely by surprise, that he forthwith devoted all his attention to preserve his own royal person, leaving his army to do all the fighting part without any general. Of course they soon got into hopeless confusion, and followed the example of their prudent master before the chiefs were able to marshal their numerous forces. Such are the chances and vicissitudes of war. Want of timely information, a picket ill posted, or a vidette falling asleep, may cause the loss of an army and an empire.
The tenth march from Caubul brought us to the green and lively-looking valley which contains Jellalabad, and the march between this and Caubul, which we had now happily overcome, was unanimously allowed to be the worst we had experienced. Our camels had certainly great cause to complain, and they neglected not to do so; but man and beast endured much on this march—the former a pecuniary, the latter a bodily suffering—let naturalists decide which endured the heavier affliction.
Jellalabad[51] is an insignificant place of itself, though situated in a fertile valley, through which rolls the clear Caubul river, washing the foundations of the city walls, and they certainly required no impotent scavenger. It has been selected as a residence by the kings of Caubul for the winter season, owing to the mildness of the climate, from its depressed situation, (about two thousand feet above the sea;) and this recommendation induced the commander-in-chief to select it as winter quarters for the greater portion of the army remaining in Caubul during the ensuing cold season.
According to the prevalent opinion, Jellalabad lays claim to considerable antiquity, as it has been supposed to represent the site of ancient Nysa. Numerous copper coins, as well as some curious antiques, have been from time to time collected in the vicinity of this place by the natives. Unfortunately, nearly all the gold and silver coins and reliques have been melted down, as the natives themselves admitted, and converted into bangles, nose-and-ear rings, or other ornaments, for the dusky beauties of Jellalabad. Several copper coins, bearing the name of Hermæus, king of Nysa, distinctly legible, were bought amongst the country people. The inscription was in Greek letters, and as follows:
ΒΑΣΙΑΕΟΣ ἙΡΜΑΙΟΥ ΣΩΤΗΡΟΣ.
Those of the Bactrian monarchs found in different parts of the country are also in Greek; and the figures and hieroglyphics on the coins have been converted, by erudite conjectures, into an endless variety of meanings. Heaven, earth, and sea have been ransacked to discover the symbolical allusions on a piece of grangrened copper; and the half-effaced toes of a Bactrian savage were successively mistaken for the signs of the Zodiac, the trident of Neptune, and a Barbarian coronet.[52] By dint of much cleansing, the toes became apparent, then appeared the legs; and over them, the body and intellectual countenance of the tiresome Hermæus shone conspicuous, with a well-flattened nose, and a pair of monstrous eyes, one of which seemed to leer with a knowing expression of cunning on his indefatigable polishers.
Near Jellalabad, we found encamped some of Runjeet's Mussulman troops, which had accompanied Colonel Wade through the Khyber Pass, about three months previously, when that distinguished officer advanced upon Ali Musjid, and opened his batteries on that remarkable fortress. The siege was conducted with such vigour, and so severe was the effect of the cannonade, that the loss on the part of the besieged must have been very serious, although the exact number of the sufferers could not be ascertained. Colonel Wade's losses, in killed and wounded, during the investment, amounted to something less than two hundred, which was about the strength of half the garrison.
In the course of the first night after the investment of Ali Musjid, intelligence reached the garrison of the fall of Ghuzni, and of the return of Mahomed Akbar with his forces from the mouth of the Khyber towards Caubul. This news, it is supposed, coupled with the incalculable losses of the previous day, induced the Khyberees to evacuate Ali Musjid during the night. Next day, the fortress was joyfully taken possession of by Col. Wade; and that celebrated despatch was penned which informed Lord Auckland and the people of India that, in consequence of "The capture of Ali Musjid, and the successful advance of the British forces into Afghanistan, there remained no doubt of the speedy dethronement of Dost Mahomed, and the favourable issue of the Afghan campaign."
Having quitted Jellalabad, we proceeded along the banks of the Caubul river, which is here skirted for some distance by a stony plain, over which the deadly simoom is said to be an occasional traveller during the hot season. Five marches from Jellalabad brought us to the gorge of the formidable Khyber Pass, the position occupied by Mahomed Akbar at the opening of the campaign. The mountains through which this defile runs are inhabited by the Khyberees, a tribe who have from time immemorial exacted tribute of all passengers through their gloomy mountains, and Dost Mahomed himself considered it politic to pay them annually a large sum to keep open the pass for traffic, as well as to secure so formidable a barrier against any sudden freak of his hereditary enemies in the Punjaub. These troublesome mountaineers also succeeded in exacting contributions from the inhabitants of the Peshawur district, in payment for a stream of water which issued from the Khyber mountains, and supplied the frontier position of the Sikhs at Futtehghur.
Colonel Wade, in his passage through this defile, endeavoured to treat with the chiefs of the Khyberees; and even bribed some of them, by a considerable bonus, to ensure a free passage; but, subsequently, so many presented themselves to demand bribes, that the negotiation bade fair to become expensive, and it was evident that this hydra was more amenable to steel than gold.
Many of the chiefs had expected payment, for the use of their productive mountains, on the return of the army through the Khyber pass, but part of Colonel Wade's force had returned, and no bribes for the chieftains had accompanied them. The Khyberees, therefore, were much exasperated at the prospect of a failure of revenue; and, fearing that if once the precedent of passing freely through their mountains were established by the British, their black mail might henceforth be reduced to a cipher, they vowed vengeance on the first intruders, and had now an opportunity of trying the experiment.
The entrance of the Khyber much resembles that of the Bolan pass, except that the footing was the same as on a beach of shingles in the former, and in the latter a platform of rock. On our flanks rose abrupt rocks, during the first day's march, untenanted by animal or vegetable; barrenness held undisputed rule.
On the second day, we ascended a steep mountain by a path resembling those cut on the Missourie and Landour range, and, descending by a similar road of about ten feet in breadth and occasionally less, entered a valley of some extent, sprinkled with several little villages and some melancholy grainfields. Traversing this valley, we entered a narrow, rocky defile, and following the course of a mountain torrent by its narrow passage through the beetling rocks, arrived, unmolested by the Khyberees, at Ali Musjid, after a march of about fifteen miles.
This fort, which stands on a steep hill about three hundred yards from the gorge of the stony defile above mentioned, had been occupied, since Colonel Wade's departure, by an officer of Native Infantry with a levy of Mooltanee recruits and a few sepoys. During the summer, the place had been found so extremely unhealthy that a great portion of the garrison died, and most of those who escaped were left in a very weak state. Inside the fort itself there is no water, and this useful article was brought by the garrison from a water-course and well, about three hundred yards distant from the walls. As there were no cannon in this formidable place, the possession of the water-course became very precarious in case of the enemy attempting to cut off the communication. The Khyberees, well aware of these disadvantages, came down, latterly, nearly every night to attack the place; but were gallantly repulsed by the little garrison as often as they came, and frequently with considerable loss. Five days before our arrival, a regiment of Sikhs, from Peshawur, amounting to nearly eight hundred, although many were in a sickly state, had occupied a small stockade,[53] on an eminence, about one mile distant from Ali Musjid, for the garrison of which place they had brought supplies.
During the night, this regiment was suddenly attacked by a force of about two thousand Khyberees. The Sikhs defended themselves within their stockade for above an hour, when their ammunition being spent, and the enemy still pressing hard upon them, they quitted their entrenchments in the hopes of effecting a retreat upon Ali Musjid. No sooner had the unhappy men evacuated their stronghold than they were surrounded by their merciless foes, and nearly the whole regiment was destroyed. Not twenty men, it was believed, escaped to bear these disastrous tidings to Peshawur. The little garrison in Ali Musjid had been effectually prevented from attempting a diversion in favour of their unfortunate allies, by a force of Khyberees, which were stationed so as to intercept the communication between the fort and the stockade. Had any part of the garrison, under such circumstances, quitted Ali Musjid, they must inevitably have been overwhelmed by the Khyberees, and in the darkness of night would, in all probability, have shared the fate of the Sikhs; but no doubt was entertained in Ali Musjid that the stockade would make good its defence.
We arrived late in the afternoon, and encamped by this field of recent slaughter, which presented a dreary spectacle; the effluvia arising from the half buried bodies and limbs of the Sikhs was almost poisonous, though it seemed to give no inconvenience or nausea to the Pariah dogs and vultures who were enjoying the ample repast provided for them by and upon the lords of the creation.
An attack on our camp being anticipated at this place, orders were issued, prohibiting both officers and men from quitting the lines, and a chain of sentries were posted, in the evening, on the summit of the lower range of hills which encircled our camp.
None of my baggage having made its appearance at nightfall, I fully made up my mind to the loss of such part of the wreck as remained, and seated myself, for the night, on a rock, where, having loaded my pistols in anticipation of the Khyberees' visit, I awaited that important event.
It was a bright starlight night. All in camp were hushed in sleep, save the guardians of the lines, who testified their vigilance by striking the hours on a lugubrious sounding gong, or by the ringing of their arms as the patrols or reliefs traversed the encampment.
As I sat in contemplation of the still scene around me, the solemn thought occurred that in a very few hours, this deathlike stillness might be locked in that sleep to be disturbed only by the sound of the last trumpet. That band of eight hundred Sikhs, which lay here but five nights past, slept on, in all probability, (until aroused by the war notes of the Khyberees,) with the same careless security that my fellow-soldiers were now enjoying, and they awoke to be slain, in one short hour—
"A thing
O'er which the raven flaps her fun'ral wing."
It is a strange sensation that interview which we are constrained to hold with death; yet, with all the imaginary terrors in which he is clad, the brave man readily meets him face to face. That those only who are, morally speaking, prepared to die, fear not death, is too wild a theory to be maintained: for many of us have seen the hardened malefactor advance, with unfaltering step and fearless aspect, to the scaffold, while in the ranks of the timid have been numbered some of the best of mankind.
And my fellow-countrymen here, who have, at least, been educated in the constant hearing of the word of God—are they more fitted to die than those miserable heathens were, whose carcases are now tainting the atmosphere? Let those who are more competent to judge of such matters decide. We, who, according to the declaration of our divines and the boast of government, are sent out to retain possession of this vast country, and to exhibit to the benighted natives the benefits and example of Christianity, have performed the latter part of our ministry in a singular manner, unless it is to be effected by daily instances of blasphemy, drunkenness, and debauchery, that the natives of India are enabled to witness. And yet they have been inapt scholars, for we have failed signally in propagating amongst them the two former accomplishments, and I question much if they have excelled us in the latter. And yet let it not be imputed to us that we are the only, or the greatest, transgressors. Let the traveller who has wandered through the bazaars of Cairo, Bombay, Caubul, Delhi, or Canton, and marked the character and occupation of the Mussulman, Gheber, and idolator, compare them with the gin palaces, cafés, bull fights, and gardens or thoroughfares of London, Paris, Madrid, Vienna, and Naples, and exult (if candour will admit) in the moral advantages of civilized Europe. I ask him not to visit the palaces of the aristocracy, or the church and chapel; in the former he will gain no knowledge, and in the latter, perhaps, too much; for, of all sciences, theology has become the most abstruse; and he who can recognise the immaculate precepts of Jesus of Nazareth, amidst the fiery and relentless hostilities of modern sects, must be an unhappy man. For my own part, the nice distinctions of party in the early history of the church, the difficulty of deciding between the mighty and learned differences of the Christian fathers, and the inability to distinguish between the Homoosion and the Homouosion quite disheartened me, at the outset, in the study of divinity; and in modern days the fiery animosities of catholic and protestant, transubstantiation, predestination, the gown and surplice riot, and pulpit mendicity, drove me from the church portals to take refuge in the book.
But, after this peregrination of the globe, to return to India: is it by the example of the better-educated classes, and the stern and impartial dealing of justice, that the natives of the East are to form an estimate of our superior wisdom and excellence? If so, let them look to some in the high places of this land, and be staggered at the display of erudition, wisdom, and righteousness; and let them judge of our notions of rigorous justice from the policy which dictated the expedition from which we are now returning. Have we not marched into the kingdom of Caubul, and without any pretext or right, save the "lex fortioris," wrested the sceptre from the hands of one monarch, the favourite of his subjects, as far as any Afghan could be so, to transfer it to those of another, (and one avowedly of a tyrannous and execrable disposition,) after shedding the blood of those who stepped forward in defence of him whom they probably conceived to be their rightful sovereign? It can hardly be assumed that the desire of establishing legitimate rights led us romantically forth on the Caubul expedition; for the government of India held friendly intercourse with Dost Mahomed for many years, without questioning his sovereign rights, and only discovered how ill-used a man Shah Soojah had been, when Dost Mahomed showed a disinclination to enter into hostilities with those who were deemed to be averse to British influence.
I had just come to the above conclusion, when a tramping behind aroused me from my reverie; and starting up, I was agreeably surprised to find that all my camels and servants had walked safely into camp. I rolled myself in a cloak, and making a comfortable resting-place of the folds of canvas composing the fly of the tent, soon became insensible alike to the immoralities of mankind and the intentions of the Khyberees.
The morning sun, when I awoke, had burst brilliantly forth, even upon the desolate and gloomy mountains of the Khyber, trying, but in vain, to bid them look cheerful; and the night, contrary to all expectations, had passed without an alarm. In the afternoon, the second column, under General Thackwell, arrived at Ali Musjid; and orders were issued for our march out of the Khyber Pass the following morning. In consequence of the reports which had reached camp of the intention of the Khyberees to attack us, the two companies of sappers and miners formed our advanced guard, and the cavalry were disposed in single files on the flanks of the baggage, with a rallying-party from each squadron in rear, as a point of formation in case of a descent from the mountains.
We marched, at daybreak, along the rugged course of a torrent, which had now degenerated to a shallow, trickling stream. High, barren mountains beetled above and almost over our track; and frequently their bases approached so near to one another, that six could scarcely ride abreast. At every step, we expected to see our enemies make their appearance on the heights, from whence they might almost with impunity have done us any injury which their long rifles, or juzzails, were capable of inflicting; but, singularly enough, not an enemy was to be seen, and we passed unmolested through the rugged defile. At about six miles from the outlet, we encountered a large body of Sikh troops occupying the road, whilst detachments were posted above them on the heights. These belonged to the army of the frontier, stationed at Peshawur. With their national modesty, they failed not to inform us that they were our deliverers from the hands of the Khyberees; and loudly proclaimed, that without their co-operation, we never should have escaped from the jaws of the Khyber Pass. Nevertheless, these heroes had taken the precaution of not advancing into the most arduous part of the defile; and previously to the British advance into Afghanistan, they had not been much acquainted with the geography of these mountains.
Towards the exit of the Pass, the mountains, though loftier and nearly as abrupt, recede considerably from one another. On emerging from them, we entered an extensive plain, and encamped near the fort of Futtehghur, which was lately built by Runjeet Singh as a frontier position. Near its walls, a long line of dusky tents marked the station of the Peshawur forces. Our lines were soon overrun by swarms of inquisitive Sikh warriors, mounted on lean, weedy horses, and carrying lances and beards of nearly equal length.
We marched early the following morning. The ground we quitted was soon occupied by the rear column, which also passed unobstructed through the defile with the state-prisoners.
The Sikhs raised a yell of execration and abuse at the sight of Hadji Khan; but he, turning in his saddle with a smile of contempt, exclaimed—
"Yelp on, ye dastardly curs—it was not your prowess which made me a captive! Many a time, at the head of a few brave Afghan followers, have I made ye sing a different song; and, with Allah's help, I trust I may live to do so again!"
On the morning of the 7th of November, we crossed the rich valley of Peshawur, and approached the city, having bidden adieu to the rocks and deserts of Afghanistan without a single regret, and with the fervent hope of never revisiting the realms of our ally, Shah Soojah.