The Story of the British Army

by Charles Cooper King

These points are worth considering before we deal at all with the wars that have led to the extension of the Empire, preceded the Mutiny, of which more hereafter, and have culminated in superficial peace. Bokhara and Samarcand, other Central Asian khanates, are part and parcel of the army and strength of the legions of the White Czar. Certainly; they are, after all, as before remarked, of the same racial stock.

Indian rajahs and princelets, potentates and ryots, are still the subject beings of the white who rules them, but does not mix with them. Instinctively, it would seem, England recognised a danger from Russia, but did not see what was at the bottom of it, nor her own helplessness to prevent it. When the first Afghan war broke out, Russia proper and India were very far apart. Foolish politicians laughed when soldiers, wiser men than they, men who are part of the story of the army, looked and talked gravely. Unwise civilians jeered in the House of Commons at the idea of the Russian frontier and ours ever being conterminous. Soldiers can jeer now at these very stupid people. The frontiers that never were to be, never could be, touching, are touching, and between the Russian Empire and our own Indian possessions is the buffer state of Afghanistan, the prize of the highest bidder or of the strongest power when the time comes.

The whole Eastern Question is grave, so long as we forget that we are not liked and can only keep what our forefathers won by bravery, and their grandchildren cannot hold by talk and whining; so long as we forget that all the tall talk and all the missionary talk is only so much wasted breath, so long must it be worth while, in studying the story of the army, to view gravely the one most dangerous frontier in all our vast possessions,—the strip of land which lies between Russia the earnest and England the supine; to that one bit of terra firma that, not careless politicians, but their guards and national police, the soldiers, look on gravely and seriously. In Afghan territory the ultimate danger lies.

So this dread of Russia was really the cause of the coercive expedition despatched in 1839; but the ostensible cause was different, and is characteristic of the methods which have led to our gradually obtaining supreme power in Hindostan. A domestic quarrel had arisen as to the succession to the Afghan throne which Dost Mahomed Khan, assumed to incline towards Russia, had seized, and which Shah Sujah, a son of the late monarch, also claimed. Thus primarily war was undertaken, to nominally place on the throne a prince unpopular and bad, and whose tenure of authority therefore only lasted just as long as he had British bayonets at his back.

There was little serious opposition in the first phase of the campaign. The advance was made by way of Quettah and the Bolan on Candahar. The Khan of Khelat foresaw the difficulty that was to come. He knew that Dost Mahomed was a man of ability and resource, and that his rival was the reverse. “You have brought an army into the country” he remarked to Burnes, “but how do you propose to take it back again?” The so-called native army, which was supposed to accompany Sujah and which was paid by us, did not contain a single Afghan, and was, though native, purely alien. The hill tribes assailed the columns in the mountain defiles, as might have been expected, and whenever they were taken, they were shot or hanged, no quarter being given![57] This must be taken into serious consideration when we blame the Afghans for the dreadful revenge, later on, came. The losses in men and animals in crossing the mountain barrier had been already heavy. The supplies were so insufficient that the men were on half, the camp followers on quarter, rations. Still, Candahar fell without resistance, Ghazni was stormed by the 13th Light Infantry and Bengal Europeans, and an uninterrupted march to Cabul was followed by the peaceful occupation of the city. But the capital of the unfortunate Khan of Khelat was taken by the 2nd and 17th Foot, and the Khan himself slain. Finally another column, under Wade, forced the Khyber Pass, took Jellalabad, and the conquest of the country seemed complete. But no European could venture far outside the camps or out of the range of British guns. In 1841 the Khyber Pass was virtually closed by the insurgent tribes. Sale, with the 13th and some Sepoy troops, was sent to clear it, and was shut up in Jellalabad in October of that year; and when the bitter winter came, and the garrison of Cabul, which had been reinforced by the 44th Foot, attempted to return to India, the whole force was either destroyed or made prisoners. Only one man, Dr. Brydon, escaped alive to Jellalabad, to relate the awful tale. The whole details of the termination of the first occupation of Cabul are both dreadful and humiliating. All told, some twenty thousand human beings actually perished in the retreat. Thus, with Sale shut up in Jellalabad, Ghazni retaken by the Afghans and its garrison butchered, and Nott in Candahar, the new year 1842 dawned.

To restore a prestige damaged as much by general incapacity as by loss, the army of relief, or of “vengeance,” as some call it, though it is difficult to see the fitness of the term, was formed at Peshawur under Pollock. We had, for political reasons, invaded a territory inhabited by barbarous tribes on the flimsiest of excuses. We had begun the slaughtering “without quarter” the hill tribes who defended their native passes; we had tried to force on an unwilling nation the man they hated, and who was backed by what they hated even more, a Christian army. But “what in the officer is but a choleric word, is, in the soldier, rank blasphemy;” what is patriotism in one case is on the part of others unjustifiable and unwarrantable rebellion. Even Lord Ellenborough thought the war a folly which might even prove a crime. But the great god “Prestige” had been invoked, and Pollock marched. He had, as European troops, the 3rd Light Dragoons, with the 9th and 31st Foot. With Nott were still the 40th and 41st. Pollock again forced the Khyber and relieved Jellalabad, but had to halt there for some months to organise his transport. Sale’s defence had been magnificent. For five months he had defended a ruined fortress racked by earthquake. So short of regimental officers for duty was the 13th Foot that sergeants were generally employed, and hence arose the custom in the regiment of the sergeants wearing the sash on the right shoulder, the same as the officers.[58] Shah Sujah was assassinated. Nott defeated the investing Afghan army outside Candahar, and marched on Cabul with 7000 men; while Pollock and Sale, after some stiff fighting in the Jugdulluck and Tezeen passes, also advanced, and the collected armies reoccupied Cabul.

Shortly after, when the prisoners taken in the retreat had been released, the army returned to India, leaving Afghanistan just as they had found it, but with a dreadful and increased legacy of hate behind.

The only thing of note we brought back were the sacred gates of Somnath, which the Mahomedan invaders had taken back with them after a successful foray some centuries previous; but the coup fell flat, and nobody was gratified!

Now arose the “tail of the Afghan storm.” The Ameers of Scinde had openly favoured our enemies in the recent war. They were defiant, at least, and covertly hostile. What better cause could there be for war? Besides, they were undoubtedly tyrannical, and alien to the Hindus they governed, or misgoverned. The Beloochees formed their army and were ruthless. A Beloochee might slay with impunity either Hindu or Scindee; there was no redress. Like Conqueror William, they had laid waste vast areas to form hunting grounds; they did not favour commerce, though they were quite ready to rob the merchant of his gains. In this case, at least, it may be deemed that the end justified the means. European methods of government and justice have converted what was a poverty-stricken district into one of comparative plenty.

To Sir Charles Napier was entrusted the conduct of the war. There had been a British Residency at Hyderabad, the capital, and here Outram, the Resident, was attacked on the 15th February 1843, as soon as Napier had crossed the Indus and interposed between the Northern and Southern Ameers, and taken the fortress of Emaum Ghur. To meet the field army the British force was a mere handful, and counted but 2600 men all told, with 12 guns, and with but one European regiment, the 22nd, to stiffen the rest. Against him, in position at Meanee, were 30,000 infantry, 5000 cavalry, and 15 guns, well posted behind the Fulaillee river, and with the flanks resting on woods. But Napier knew the value of the initiative, and trusted to drill and discipline against numbers, and his confidence was fully justified. The enemy fought with the utmost stubbornness. The battle opened by the British along the river bank firing at 100 yards, and by the Beloochees with their matchlocks at 15 yards! When the 22nd crowned the bank, “they staggered back in amazement at the forest of swords waving in their front. Thick as standing corn and gorgeous as a field of flowers stood the Beloochees in their many-coloured garments and turbans; they filled the broad, deep bed of the ravine, they clustered on both banks, and covered the plain beyond. Guarding their heads with their large dark shields, they shook their sharp swords, beaming in the sun, their shouts rolling like a peal of thunder, as with frantic gestures they dashed forward, with demoniac strength and ferocity, full against the front of the 22nd. But with shouts as loud and shrieks as wild and fierce as theirs, and hearts as big and arms as strong, the Irish soldiers met them with the queen of weapons, the musket, and sent their foremost masses rolling back in blood.”