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.