CHAPTER I.
[June-September: 1842.]
The Advance from Jellalabad—Instructions of Lord Ellenborough—The Question of Responsibility—Employment of the Troops at Jellalabad—Operations in the Shinwarree Valley—Negotiations for the Release of the Prisoners—The Advance—Mammoo Khail—Jugdulluck—Tezeen—Occupation of Caubul.
The summer months passed away, and still left General Pollock at Jellalabad, and General Nott at Candahar. Whether it were the intention of the Governor-General that they should advance upon Caubul, or fall back at once upon Peshawur and Quettah, was a problem of very difficult solution. Such data as were afforded them by the letters of Lord Ellenborough and his secretaries sufficed only to plunge them into a state of still deeper bewilderment and mystification. Every fresh letter seemed to render the obscurity more obscure. The Governor-General’s instructions to Pollock and Nott at this time resembled nothing so much as those given to children in the “game of contraries”—to hold fast when they are ordered to let go, and to let go when they are ordered to hold fast. Lord Ellenborough was, in effect, perpetually telling the generals that when he suggested to them to go forward it was their business to come back.
It is probable that Lord Ellenborough himself had no very clear perception, at this time, of the course which he purposed to pursue. He had made up his mind, he said, to save India in spite of every man in it who ought to give him support;[240] but it seemed to be his idea to save India rather by withdrawing all our troops within the Sutlej, than by striking a decisive blow for the re-establishment of our military supremacy in Afghanistan. It was his opinion that the danger of our position at that time arose from the absence of so large a body of troops from the provinces of Hindostan; and that we might better afford to leave our external injuries unredressed, than weaken our means of defence in India itself for the purpose of redressing them. Viewing the matter in this light, Lord Ellenborough thought less of redeeming the military character of the British nation than of bringing back the troops to Hindostan; and he would have brought them back without an effort at such redemption, if the almost universal voice, not only of the chief civil and military officers, but of the Anglo-Indian community at large, had not been lifted up against so inglorious and degrading a concession. The opinions and desires of Pollock and Nott—of Robertson and Clerk—of Rawlinson, Outram, Macgregor, Mackeson, and others, who were eager for a forward movement, and little inclined to conceal their genuine sentiments under a cloak of official reserve—how little soever Lord Ellenborough might have been disposed outwardly to acknowledge their influence—were not without their effect. Public opinion he professed to despise. The judgments of the Press he pretended to hold in such absolute contempt, that he lived in habitual ignorance of all that emanated from it; but it is believed that this disregard of public opinion was rather a profession than a fact, and that Lord Ellenborough was shaken in his determination to bring back the armies to the provinces, by the clamour that, from one end of India to the other, was raised against the obnoxious measure of withdrawal. He had by this time, too, received information from England that an inglorious retirement from the scene of our late humiliation, and the abandonment of all the brave men, tender women, and innocent children, in the hands of the Afghans, would be viewed with no satisfaction either by his old ministerial colleagues, or by the people of Great Britain. Many powerful external influences, therefore, roused him to a sense of the necessity of doing something in advance; but the “withdrawal policy” was emphatically his own, and he was resolute to preserve the shadow of it if he could not maintain the substance.
In this conjuncture, he betook himself to an expedient unparalleled, perhaps, in the political history of the world. He instigated Pollock and Nott to advance, but insisted that they should regard the forward movement solely in the light of a retirement from Afghanistan. No change had come over the views of Lord Ellenborough, but a change had come over the meaning of certain words of the English language. The Governor-General had resolutely maintained that the true policy of the English Government was to bring back our armies to the provinces of India, and that nothing would justify him in pushing them forward merely for the re-establishment of our military reputation. But he found it necessary to yield to the pressure from without, and to push the armies of Pollock and Nott further into the heart of the Afghan dominions. To preserve his own consistency, and at the same time to protect himself against the measureless indignation of the communities both of India and of England, was an effort of genius beyond the reach of ordinary statesmen. But it was not beyond the grasp of Lord Ellenborough. How long he may have been engaged on the solution of the difficulty before him, History cannot determine. But on the 4th of July it was finally accomplished. On that day Lord Ellenborough, who had entirely discarded the official mediation of the Commander-in-Chief, despatched two letters to General Pollock and two to General Nott. In these letters he set forth that his opinions had undergone no change since he had declared the withdrawal of the British armies to the provinces to be the primal object of Government; but he suggested that perhaps General Nott might feel disposed to retire from Candahar to the provinces of India by the route of Ghuznee, Caubul, and Jellalabad;[241] and that perhaps General Pollock might feel disposed to assist the retreat of the Candahar force by moving forward upon Caubul.
It has been seen, that on the 1st of June Lord Ellenborough had granted General Pollock a constructive permission to remain at Jellalabad until the month of October; and that General Pollock had determined to turn this permission to the best account. The mind of the statesman was running on retirement; the mind of the soldier on advance. The great obstacle either to retirement or to advance had been the scarcity of carriage. But in the early summer months every exertion had been made by the authorities in Upper India to procure carriage for the use of the armies in Afghanistan. Lord Ellenborough had exerted himself to obtain cattle; Mr. Robertson, the able and energetic Lieutenant-Governor of the North-Western Provinces, had exerted himself to obtain cattle.[242] The Governor-General threw his heart into the work, because he was eager to bring back the armies to Hindostan; the Lieutenant-Governor threw his heart into the work, because he was eager to push them on to Caubul. So it happened, that before the end of June, there was a sufficiency of cattle at General Pollock’s disposal to enable him to do something; and he reported to Government that his means of movement were such that he was able to make a demonstration in the neighbourhood of Jellalabad. Upon this, Lord Ellenborough, through his secretary, wrote to him on the 4th of July that he was rejoiced to hear, the General was able to do something; but that he (the General) must, on no account, think that any change had come over the opinions of Government, which still inclined resolutely towards the withdrawal of the army at the earliest moment consistent with the health and efficiency of the troops.[243]
On this same 4th of July the Governor-General wrote twice to General Nott—once through his secretary and once with his own hand. He sent the General a copy of his instructions to Pollock, impressing upon him that all his views were in favour of a prompt withdrawal; and he addressed to him a long inconclusive letter, instructing him to withdraw from Afghanistan, but telling him, at the same time, that the line of withdrawal was to be left to his own choice. He might retire by going backward, by Quettah and Sukkur, or he might retire by going forward, by Ghuznee, Caubul, and Jellalabad. But whichsoever line he might take, he was never for a moment to lose sight of the fact that Lord Ellenborough had decreed that he should retire, and that retire he must.[244]
It was fortunate for Lord Ellenborough and for the country that he had to deal at this time with men who thought more of the honour of Great Britain than of their own safety; and who did not shrink from responsibility, if, by incurring it, they had a reasonable chance of conferring great and lasting benefits upon the government which they served, and the nation which they represented. But Lord Ellenborough’s instructions to the Generals were so worded—whether by accident or by design I do not presume to determine—as to cast upon them all the onus of failure, and to confer upon the Governor-General, or at least to divide with him, all the honour of success. One thing at least is certain—the letter of the 4th of July, addressed to General Nott and signed by the Chief Secretary, ought not to have been written. It is either from first to last a masterpiece of Jesuitical cunning, or it indicates a feebleness of will—an infirmity of purpose—discreditable to the character of a statesman entrusted with the welfare and the honour of one of the greatest empires in the world.
But, whatever may have been the amount of responsibility cast upon the two Generals, neither Pollock nor Nott shrunk from it. They cheerfully took up the burden and placed it on their own shoulders.[245] They had obtained now all that they wanted. They had no doubt of the ability of their troops to carry everything before them. Cattle had been supplied, or were being supplied, sufficient for all their movements. It was only necessary that they should act in concert with each other—that they should so combine their operations as to reach the capital at the same time, and strike the last blow together. But it was no easy thing in those days to carry on a correspondence between Jellalabad and Candahar; and it was long before Pollock received an answer to his letters. Five messengers were despatched in succession to Nott’s camp;[246] but it was not before the middle of August that Pollock could assure himself of his brother-general’s intentions to advance upon Caubul at all.[247]
In the mean while, neither General had been wholly inactive. At Jellalabad, Pollock had been making a demonstration against some hostile tribes, and carrying on negotiations for the release of the British prisoners. The Governor-General had several times, in rather obscure language, suggested to Pollock that it might be desirable to strike a blow at some one somewhere in the neighbourhood of Jellalabad; and now the General sent out Monteith into the Shinwarree valley to read a lesson to the tribes who had possessed themselves of the property plundered from our army, and who held in their hands one of our captured guns. These things were to be now demanded from the tribes, or to be wrested from them at the point of the bayonet. In the middle of June, Monteith descended into the valley, with a brigade of European and Native troops, and a sufficiency of guns for his purpose. The troops, so long held in restraint, were now all fire and impetuosity. The first sight, in the village of Ali-Boghan, of some property that had belonged to our slaughtered army, maddened them past control.[248] They began at once to fire the houses and to plunder the inhabitants. But Monteith and Macgregor interfered for their protection. The plundered property was restored. Even the money that had been taken was made over again to the inhabitants.
The report of the violence that had been committed at Ali-Boghan spread like wildfire through the valley. The people believed that the British troops were about to fire all the villages; so they began at once to remove their property, and to fly in every direction from their homes. Macgregor exerted himself to restore confidence among them, by explaining the real designs of his government; and the people began to return to their dwellings. But, although indiscriminate plunder and destruction were not the objects of the expedition, the brigade had been sent out to do certain work, and it soon became evident that it could not be done without inflicting some injury upon the people. The captured gun and the plundered property were to be recovered. It was known that two of the principal chiefs of a place called Goolai were in possession of a portion of the treasure that had fallen into the hands of our enemies. It was known, too, that the captured gun was at Deh-Surruk. It was determined, therefore, that the brigade should move against these two places.
On the morning of the 20th of June, Monteith moved upon Goolai. “It presented all the appearance of a flourishing little settlement. Several of the forts were extensive and in good repair. They were shaded by clusters of mulberry and willow trees. Flowing water passed close to the forts, and served to irrigate the neighbouring fields of cotton, rice, and jewaree. The summer harvest had just been collected, and was stocked outside the fort in its unwinnowed state. The inhabitants had evidently only time to escape with their portable property before the troops reached Goolai. In fact, our visit was most timely. Three or four days’ delay would have enabled them to carry off their grain.”[249]
Monteith pitched his camp on some rising ground near the village, and demanded the restitution of the plundered treasure. On the following day evasive answers were received; there was no prospect of obtaining, by peaceful negotiation, the concession that was demanded from the chiefs. So the work of destruction commenced. Their forts and houses were destroyed. Their walls were blown up. Their beautiful trees were ringed and left to perish.[250] The retribution was complete.
The work of destruction went on for some days. In the mean while the captured gun had been given up, and the people of Deh-Surruk were willing to restore the treasure which they had taken; but they could not easily recover it from the real possessors. However, after some difficulty, upwards of 10,000 rupees, besides other property, were recovered from the Shinwarrees. A large quantity of grain, timber, boosa, and other requisites was appropriated at Goolai; and it was supposed that the declared objects of the expedition had now been fully accomplished.
But the Shinwarrees had not been thoroughly coerced. They had always been a refractory people—unwilling to pay revenue either to Barukzye chief or Suddozye Prince. It was thought advisable, therefore, to read them a more severe lesson. So Monteith made a progress through the valley, applied the firebrand to their forts, and shot them down in their places of refuge. “At one time the interiors of five-and-thirty forts were in a blaze along the valley.”[251] At a place named Mazeena the tribes made some show of resistance; but the steady gallantry of her Majesty’s 31st Regiment and of their Sepoy comrades was not to be withstood; the shells from Abbott’s howitzers were irresistible; and so Monteith effectually beat down the opposition of the Shinwarrees. This was on the 26th of July. On the 3rd of August the brigade returned to Jellalabad. From the 17th of June to this date, “both men and cattle had entirely subsisted on the resources of the country.” “The cattle especially,” added Captain Macgregor, concluding his report, “will be found to have greatly improved in condition while employed on this service. Indeed, in whatever way it may be viewed, it will be found that the expedition has been highly beneficial to British interests.”
Whilst Monteith was carrying on these operations in the Shinwarree valley, Pollock was carrying on negotiations for the release of the British prisoners. On the 10th of July, Mackenzie having been stricken down by fever and lying, as was supposed, at the point of death, Captain Troup, accompanied by a native gentleman, named Hadjee Buktear, had been despatched to General Pollock’s camp; but had brought back no satisfactory intelligence to encourage and animate the Sirdar.[252] The fact is, that Pollock had by this time begun to see his way to Caubul. Lord Ellenborough and Mr. Robertson had exerted themselves most successfully to supply him with carriage. He was eager to plant the British standard on the Balla Hissar, and was unwilling to hamper himself with any negotiations which might impede or delay his advance. It was thought by some in Pollock’s camp that the Sirdar was not sincere in his overtures, and that his real object was to gain time. But Pollock was equally anxious to gain time. The emissaries were not dismissed in a hurry; and when they returned at last to Caubul they carried back only a verbal message, and that message contained a demand for all the guns and trophies in the possession of the enemy.[253] It was expected that another reference would be made to Jellalabad; and that in the mean while Pollock would be supplied with the means of rescuing the prisoners more majestically than by such negotiations. He had received so many assurances from influential men at the capital that the Caubulees would not suffer Akbar Khan to carry off the prisoners to Toorkistan, that he believed the advance of his army would tend more surely to their release than any diplomatic measure which he could possibly adopt.
But Akbar Khan held a different opinion. When Troup returned to Caubul, the Sirdar summoned him and Pottinger to an interview, declared that he was not satisfied with Pollock’s verbal message, and candidly asked their advice. Pottinger replied that the best advice he could offer was, that Akbar Khan should immediately send down the whole of the prisoners to Pollock’s camp at Jellalabad, as a proof of his sincerity and good feeling. If there were any delay, he added, the negotiations would be broken off, and the army would advance. To this the Sirdar replied, that without a written promise from General Pollock to withdraw his troops from Afghanistan the prisoners would not be sent to his camp; and that they might at once banish the thought of a forcible release of the prisoners on the advance of the British army, for that as soon as intelligence should reach him of our troops having arrived at Charbagh, he would send them all off to Toorkistan—scattering them about by twos and threes among the different chiefs—and come down himself with his fighting men to dispute the progress of the advancing army.
To Pollock, this appeared a mere idle threat. He still clung to the belief that there was a party in Caubul able and willing to prevent the departure of the prisoners; and when Troup, accompanied by Lawrence, came down again to Jellalabad, he found the General still less inclined than before to promise to withdraw his army. He had, indeed, already moved a brigade forward to Futtehabad—two marches in advance of his old position; and Sale, who commanded this brigade, had written that it was “a good place for a fight.”[254] All that Pollock, therefore, could now promise was, that he would not advance beyond that point before the expiration of a certain number of days. The negotiations had, by this time, become the merest sham. It was obvious that Pollock could not proceed with them to a successful issue without encumbering himself with conditions which would have hung as a millstone round the neck of a military commander, eager to drive his battalions into the heart of the enemy’s country. The Governor-General wrote to him that “all military operations must proceed, as if no negotiations were on foot;” but Akbar Khan had rendered this impossible, by demanding, as a condition of the delivery of the prisoners, that all the British troops should withdraw from Afghanistan.[255]
Weary of these protracted negotiations, Pollock was now eager to advance upon Caubul. He was only waiting the arrival of specific information from Candahar relative to the movements of his brother-general. “As I have offered to meet him,” he wrote to a friend in high place, “he will find some difficulty in resisting the glorious temptation; but if he does resist, he is not the man I take him for.”[256] The glorious temptation was not resisted. The two Generals were worthy of each other. Nott had determined to retire to India by Ghuznee, Caubul, and Jellalabad; and in the middle of the month of August, a messenger, long expected and most welcome, brought the cheering intelligence into Pollock’s camp.[257]
On the 20th of August, Pollock began to move from Jellalabad. On that day the advanced guard under the General himself reached Sultanpore, on its way to Gundamuck. At the latter place he intended to assemble the whole of the troops which he had selected to accompany him to the capital[258]—in all, about 8000 men. On the 23rd, Pollock, with the advance, reached Gundamuck. About two miles from that place lies the village of Mammoo Khail. Two hostile chiefs, having sent away all their women and children, had mustered a strong body of the Ooloos, and were occupying this position. Pollock at once determined to dislodge them; and ordered up from Sale’s camp in the rear Broadfoot’s sappers and a squadron of dragoons. On the following morning the brigade advanced, and the enemy began to retire. Then, dividing his infantry into two columns, with a wing of her Majesty’s 9th Foot at the head of each, Pollock entered the village. The enemy had abandoned their positions there, and at another village, called Koochlee Khail; but they rallied and returned to occupy a range of heights within musket-shot of the latter place, and from these commanding eminences, they kept up, for some time, a hot fire from their jezails. But Colonel Taylor attacked them on one side; Broadfoot, with his sappers, on the other.[259] The heights were carried. The forts and villages were taken, and the enemy dispersed. The chiefs fled to Caubul with a few followers. Mammoo Khail and Koochlee Khail were destroyed by fire; and the fruit-trees were cut down.[260]
Having accomplished this, Pollock returned to Gundamuck. The attack on Mammoo Khail, which is not on the road to Caubul, was a diversion rendered necessary by the appearance of the enemy in that direction. But the General had yet to assemble his entire force, to assure himself of the sufficiency of his supplies, and to make all the necessary arrangements for his advance upon the capital. The delight with which the announcement of the intended advance upon Caubul had been received throughout the general camp is not to be described. The question of advance or withdrawal had been for months eagerly discussed. Every symptom had been watched with the closest interest—every report had been canvassed with wondering curiosity. Acting under instructions from the Supreme Government, Pollock had kept all his intended movements a close secret. It was not, indeed, until the middle of August that even Sir Robert Sale knew that the force would advance upon Caubul; and then he was so wild with excitement that he could scarcely write a note to the General to express his unbounded delight.[261]
There were now no longer any doubts regarding the forward movement of the force. Officers and men were eager to push on to Caubul; and willing to advance lightly equipped, leaving behind them all the baggage that was not absolutely necessary to their efficiency. The 13th Light Infantry, ever ready to set an example to their comrades, sent back a considerable portion of their baggage to Jellalabad, and prepared to march with only a single change of linen. The officers of the regiment were content to congregate, three or four together, in small hill tents; and Broadfoot, at all times a pattern of chivalrous zeal, offered to take on his sappers without any tents at all.[262]
Full of hope and courage the troops moved up, by brigades, to Gundamuck. Making all his arrangements for the march, and waiting intelligence from Nott,[263] Pollock remained at that place until the 7th of September. Supplies were pouring freely into camp. The rich orchards and fruit-gardens of the surrounding country yielded their luscious produce; and our officers were writing to their friends that they were “luxuriating quietly on the most delicious fruits and supplies of all kinds.” The neighbouring chiefs were coming in and making submission to the English General. It was plain that already the tidings of our advance were striking terror into the hearts of the chiefs and people of Afghanistan.
It was on the 1st day of September, when Pollock was awaiting at Gundamuck the assembling of his brigades, that an Afghan, of forlorn aspect, in soiled and tattered clothes, rode upon a wretched pony, attended by three followers, into the British camp. Two officers of the general staff, Burn and Mayne, met the stranger as he approached, and recognised him. They knew him to be Futteh Jung. They knew him to be the man who, a day or two before, had borne the title of King of Caubul. The fugitive was kindly received, and conducted to the General’s tent. A salute was fired in his honour. Accommodation was provided for him in the British camp, and everything that could conduce to his comfort was freely granted to the unfortunate Prince.
For some time, Futteh Jung had been a wretched puppet at the Caubul Court. He had been but a King of straw. The merest shadow of royalty had been suffered to cling to him. Akbar Khan, for his own uses, held the imbecile Prince firmly in his hands; and every day tightened his grasp. He stripped him of all his power; he stripped him of all his wealth. He threatened—he overawed him. He compelled him to attach his seal, or his signature,[264] to papers resigning all authority into the hands of the Wuzeer, and signifying his assent to everything that might be originated or sanctioned by him.[265] Deeming that the unscrupulous tyranny of Akbar Khan would soon manifest itself in the murder of the whole royal family, the Prince directed his thoughts towards the expediency of flight, and determined to claim the hospitality of the British General. But Akbar Khan suspected his intentions, and flung him into close confinement in the Balla Hissar. A Kuzzilbash gentleman, named Aga Mahomed, aided him to escape from his perilous captivity. A hole was cut through the roof of his prison, and he emerged into the outer air. But, overcome by terror and by opium, his limbs refused to perform their office, and on his perilous way to the Kuzzilbash quarters, he more than once implored his deliverer to carry him back to his place of captivity. The resolution, however, of Aga Mahomed prevailed, and, having lodged the wretched Prince for a while in the house of a Kuzzilbash lady—the Aga’s aunt—he raised a few thousand rupees by pledging his own and his mother’s property, and then started him on his perilous journey to the camping-ground of the British. With some difficulty, often fired upon as he went, Futteh Jung made his way through the passes; and at last, on the 1st of September, struggled into Pollock’s camp.[266]
On the morning of the 7th of September, General Pollock, with the first division of his army, accompanied by General Sir Robert Sale, moved from Gundamuck,[267] in progress to the capital. The second division, under General M’Caskill, marched on the following day. A party of the Sikh contingent, under Captain Lawrence, accompanied this division. These regiments had been sent up to Jellalabad in June, and had been encamped on the opposite side of the river. They were the old Mussulman corps who had behaved so infamously on the other side of the Khybur, but who now had been talked over by Gholab Singh into something like propriety of demeanour.[268] They behaved at least as well as the British General expected, and when Lawrence sought permission for a party of 500 men, horse and foot, to accompany, under his directions, Pollock’s army to Caubul, the General was but little inclined to refuse the request. So a party of 300 horse and 200 foot marched, under Lawrence, with M’Caskill’s division; and the remainder occupied positions at Neemlah and Gundamuck.
On the 8th of September, as the first division of Pollock’s army approached the hills which commanded the road through the Jugdulluck Pass, he found that their summits were occupied by the enemy. Large bodies of Ghilzyes, under different chieftains, each with a distinguishing standard, were clustering on the heights. “The hills they occupied formed an amphitheatre inclining towards the left of the road, on which the troops were halted whilst the guns opened, and the enemy were thus enabled on this point to fire into the column, a deep ravine preventing any contact with them.”[269] The practice of the guns was excellent; but the Ghilzye warriors stood their ground. The shells from our howitzers burst among them; but still they held their posts. Still they poured in a hot fire from their jezails. So Pollock sent his infantry to the attack; and gallantly they ascended the heights. On one side, Broadfoot, ever in advance, led up his little band of sappers. On the other, Taylor, with the 9th Foot, ascended the hills, where the enemy, horse and foot, were posted behind a ruined fort. In the centre, Wilkinson, with the 13th, pushed up the ascent towards the key of the enemy’s position. All went forward with impetuous gallantry; and as they clomb the hill-sides and seized the Ghilzye standards, up went an animated and enthusiastic cheer from the British stormers. It was plain that their heart was in the work, and that nothing could turn them back. The flower of the Ghilzye tribes were there, under many of their most renowned chieftains, and they looked down upon the scene of their recent sanguinary triumphs. But they had now to deal with other men, under other leaders. The loud clear cry of the British infantry struck a panic into their souls. They turned and fled before our bayonets. Then galloped Lockwood with his dragoons after the enemy’s horse; but the nature of the ground was against him, and they escaped the annihilation which otherwise would have been their fate.
But the battle was not yet over. A considerable body of the enemy had betaken themselves for safety to an apparently inaccessible height. On the summit of a mountain they planted their standards, and seemed to look down with defiance upon our troops. But Pollock was resolute not to leave, on that day, his work incomplete. He believed that where the enemy could post themselves his infantry could attack them. So, under cover of Abbott’s and Backhouse’s guns, Broadfoot and Wilkinson again led up their men, and stormed that precipitous height. “Seldom have soldiers had a more arduous task to perform, and never was an undertaking of the kind surpassed in execution.”[270] The Ghilzyes looked down upon them with astonishment and dismay. They saw at once the temper of our men, and they shrunk from the encounter. Our stormers pushed on, and the Ghilzye standards were lowered. The enemy fled in confusion; and left the stronghold, from which they had looked down in the insolence of mistaken security, to be occupied by British troops.
The victory was complete. It was mainly achieved, under Pollock’s able directions, by the brave men of the old Jellalabad garrison. Sale himself, who was never far off when there was likely to be hard fighting, led up the heights in front of his old regiment, and was wounded in the affray. The loss upon our side was trifling. Nothing could have told more plainly than such a victory as this how little formidable in reality were the best Ghilzye fighting men in their most inaccessible strongholds, when opposed to British infantry under the eye of a capable commander. The Ghilzye butchers were now seen flying like sheep before the comrades of the men whom a few months before they had slaughtered in these very shambles at Jugdulluck.
The first division alone of Pollock’s army was engaged with the enemy at Jugdulluck.[271] The second division passed on, much molested by the enemy, and often compelled to fight its way against large bodies of Ghilzye footmen. On the 11th of September they joined the advance in the neighbourhood of Tezeen. The exertions of a forced march had fatigued M’Caskill’s cattle; so Pollock determined to devote the 12th to a halt. Before the day had closed, it was evident that the enemy were close at hand, and that we were on the eve of a great struggle. Akbar Khan had been true to his word. He had despatched the bulk of the English prisoners to the Hindoo-Koosh, and was now preparing to meet our army. On the 6th of September he had moved his camp to Begramee—distant some six miles from the Balla Hissar—and there sent for Captain Troup.[272] The English officer repaired to the camp of the Sirdar, who summoned a meeting of the principal chiefs. The Newab Zemaun Khan, Jubbar Khan, Ameen-oollah Khan, Mahomed Shah Khan, and other chief people of the empire attended the council. Troup was not permitted to be present at the conference; but he soon learnt its result. He was required immediately to proceed to Gundamuck on a mission to Pollock’s camp. The chiefs had determined to endeavour to conciliate the British General. They were willing to agree to any terms he might please to dictate, if he would only consent to stay the advance of his army upon the capital.
Troup declared his willingness to proceed on the mission. But he had no hope, he said, of its success. The time for negotiation had passed. Nothing could now stay the progress of Pollock’s army but the entire destruction of his force. But so urgently did the Sirdar press his request on the British officer, that Troup could not refuse his assent to the proposal. He made his preparations for the journey, and then returned to the Afghan camp. There, in the presence of Akbar Khan and Mahomed Shah Khan, he again set forth the uselessness of the mission, and prevailed with them to forego it.[273]
There was nothing now left for the Sirdar but to appeal to the God of battles, and bring all the force that he could muster to oppose the progress of Pollock’s army through the passes. He now moved down to Boodkhak, and from that place summoned Troup and Bygrave to his camp. It appeared to him that the English officers might render him essential service in the negotiation of terms, if the tide of victory turned against him. On the morning of the 11th they entered his camp at Boodkhak. That evening he summoned them to his presence, and was for some time in earnest consultation with them. He declared that he had no wish to oppose the progress of the British army, but that he had compromised himself too far to recede, and that the people would not hear of submission. The English officers assured him that his defeat was certain; and that opposition to our advance would only occasion an useless expenditure of life. “I know,” said the Sirdar, “that I have everything to lose; but it is too late to recede.” He declared that he was indifferent as to the result. The issue of the contest was in the hands of God, and it little mattered to him who was the victor.
On the following morning he sent for Troup, and announced that he and Bygrave must accompany him to Koord-Caubul. Arrived at that place, intelligence of the intended halt of Pollock’s army at Tezeen reached the Sirdar. The Afghan chiefs had intended to make their last decisive stand at Koord-Caubul; but the halt of the advancing army seemed to indicate indecision, and it was rumoured that difficulties had arisen to obstruct the progress of the force. On this, the Sirdar at once determined to move on to Tezeen; and sent to Troup to announce his intentions.[274] The English officer sought and obtained permission to return to Ali Mahomed’s fort; and Akbar Khan went forward to do battle with the British.[275]
On the 13th the two forces met. Great were the advantages of the ground to the Afghan levies. The valley of Tezeen is commanded on all sides by lofty hills; and the chiefs had posted their jezailchees on every available height. Indeed, on that morning of the 13th of September, Pollock’s camp was encircled by the enemy; and it was plain that every effort had been made to turn the natural defences of the country to the best possible account. There was a hard day’s work before Pollock’s army; but never were a finer body of troops in finer condition, or more eager for the work before them. All arms had now a chance of distinguishing themselves—the cavalry on the plain, the infantry on the hills, and the artillery everywhere. Fortunately the enemy’s horse entered the valley, attracted by the hope of plundering our baggage. The opportunity so eagerly desired by the dragoons was now at hand. A British squadron, gallantly led by Unett, was let loose upon the Afghan horsemen. The Native cavalry followed. There was a brilliant and successful charge. The enemy turned and fled; but the sabres of the dragoons fell heavily upon them; and many were cut up in the flight.
The infantry were not less successful. Gallantly they ascended the heights on either side of the pass, and gallantly the Afghans advanced to meet them. The stormers of the 13th Light Infantry clomb the hills on the right; the 9th and 31st on the left; and as they went, hotly and thick upon them poured the iron rain from the Afghan jezails. But never, beneath the terrible fire that greeted them, as they pushed up the hill-side, did these intrepid soldiers waver for a moment. They knew that their muskets were no match for the Afghan jezails. The enemy, indeed, seemed to deride them. So having reached the hill-top, our men fixed their bayonets, and charged with a loud hurrah. The cold steel took no denial. Down went the Afghan marksmen before the English bayonets; the foremost men stood to be pierced, and the rest, awed by the fall of their comrades and the desperate resolution of the British troops, fled down the hill in confusion. The strength of the Afghan force was broken; but the work of our fighting men was not done. All through the day a desultory warfare was kept up along the ridges of these tremendous hills. The Afghans occupying the highest ground, fired down upon our infantry, hiding themselves when they could behind the rocks, and shrinking now from a closer contest. Never did British troops display a higher courage in action, or a more resolute perseverance. Nobly did the Native Sepoy vie with the European soldier; and nowhere was there a finer sight than where Broadfoot with his sappers clambered up the steepest ascents under the hottest fire, and drove before them the stalwart Afghans—giants beside the little Goorkhas who pressed so bravely upon them. Many gallant feats were done that day; and many an Afghan warrior died the hero’s death on his native hills, cheered by the thought that he was winning Paradise by such martyrdom. Desperate was the effort to keep back the invaders from clearing the heights of the Huft-Kotul; but the British troops, on that day, would have borne down even stouter opposition. The Huft-Kotul was mounted; and three cheers burst from the victors as they reached the summit of that stupendous ascent.
A more decisive victory was never gained. The Afghan chiefs had brought out their best fighting men against us. They had done their best to turn the difficulties of the country to good account against the strangers. Their people were at home in these tremendous defiles; whilst few of our troops had ever seen them—few were accustomed to the kind of warfare which now alone could avail. There was everything to stir into intense action all the energies of the Barukzye chief and his followers. They were fighting in defence of their hearths and altars; the very existence of the nation was at stake. It was the last hope of saving the capital from the grasp of an avenging army. But with everything to stimulate and everything to aid him, Akbar Khan could offer no effectual resistance to the advance of Pollock’s retributory force. The Afghans were fairly beaten on their own ground, and in their own peculiar style of warfare. It has been often said that our troops were maddened by the sight of the skeletons of their fallen comrades, and that they were carried on by the irrepressible energy of revenge. It is true, that all along the line of country, from Gundamuck to Koord-Caubul, there rose up before the eyes of our advancing countrymen hideous evidences of the great January massacre—enough to kindle the fiercest passions in the hearts of the meekest men. But I believe that, if no such ghastly spectacles had lain in the path of the advancing army, the forward feeling would have glowed as strongly in the breasts of every soldier of Pollock’s force.
The struggle was now at an end. Akbar Khan saw that the game was up, and that it was useless to attempt to bring together the scattered fragments of his routed army. Taking Captain Bygrave with him as the companion of his flight, he fled to the Ghorebund valley. The fighting men, who had opposed us at Tezeen, were now in disordered masses, hurrying homewards along their mountain paths, and seeking safety in places remote from the track of the avenging army, whilst Pollock marched onwards with his regiments in orderly array,[276] and on the 15th of September encamped on the Caubul race-course.