In the meantime the handful of men who had entered the fort had been engaged in a desperate struggle for life. The Afghans, discovering how small was the number of their assailants, re-entered the fort and fell upon them in overwhelming numbers. When Shelton's force entered, Colonel Mackrell had fallen mortally wounded, and was carried into the cantonments to die. Lieutenant Bird, with two Sepoys, were the sole survivors. They had, when the enemy poured in, taken possession of a stable and barricaded themselves there, and had successfully repulsed every attack. When they were rescued their ammunition was almost exhausted, but they were uninjured, and no fewer than thirty dead Afghans lying in front of the stable bore mute testimony to the steadiness and accuracy of their aim.
Several small forts were abandoned by the enemy, and a quantity of grain was found in them, but as no measures were taken to convey it into the camp, it was lost again when the troops retired. Desultory fighting went on all the afternoon without any decisive results, and the next two or three days passed quietly.
In the meantime the moonshee was making every effort to bring over some of the chiefs to our side. Macnaghten was sending off letter after letter to the political officer with Sale, urging the necessity for an instant advance of the force at Jellalabad. On the 13th the enemy occupied a hill within range of the cantonment, and planting two guns there opened a steady fire. Macnaghten spent hours in endeavouring to persuade the general and brigadier of the absolute necessity for driving the enemy off the hill, but without success, and it was not until he took the responsibility upon himself that a detachment under Shelton was ordered to be sent. It was then four o'clock in the afternoon. The troops advanced in three columns, and the infantry rushed forward with such impetuosity that the two guns with them could not arrive in time to herald their attack. The detachment poured in a volley within ten yards' distance, but they were unsteady from their exertions in mounting the hill, and their fire took no effect. A minute later the Afghan cavalry charged down upon them. The attack was unexpected, the men in confusion, and the Afghans rode through and through the ranks. The British troops retreated down the slope, where they re-formed behind the reserve; the guns opened fire with great effect, and the infantry again marched up the hill.
Our cavalry now came into action and drove the enemy before them. The infantry carried the height, and the enemy fled, abandoning their guns. It was now getting dark. A party of the Ameer's infantry removed one of the guns; but the Afghan marksmen were keeping up a heavy musketry fire, and the troops, British as well as Sepoys, were so demoralized that they refused to advance and carry off the other. It was therefore spiked and rolled down the hill, while the smaller gun was brought by the Ameer's troops into the cantonment. The enemy, now strongly reinforced, attempted to intercept the retreat, but were beaten off.
On the 15th Major Pottinger and another officer came in wounded, and reported that the Ghoorka regiment that had been retiring from Kohistan had been entirely destroyed. They defended themselves courageously against overwhelming forces, and held the barracks they occupied until maddened by thirst; then they rushed to a stream, where the enemy fell upon them and cut them to pieces, the two mounted officers alone escaping after innumerable dangers. On the 17th Macnaghten heard that there was no hope whatever of assistance from Sale, who was himself surrounded with difficulties. He now urged that the force should all retire to the Bala Hissar, behind whose strong walls they could have maintained themselves. But Shelton vehemently opposed the step, which would have saved the army from destruction, urging that the abandonment of the cantonments would be an acknowledgment of defeat.
On the 23rd of November the enemy again appeared on the hill from which they had been driven, and a strong force moved out against it. Strangely enough, however, they only took one gun with them. The day was disgraceful as well as disastrous, for the British force was signally defeated and the gun was lost, and the troops re-entered the cantonment in headlong flight, hotly pursued by the Afghans till they reached the protection of the earthworks. Their conduct showed how completely the imbecility and vacillation of their commanders, and the effect of the insufficient rations on which they had to subsist, had destroyed the moral of the troops. The men who a month before could have driven the Afghans before them like sheep, were now unable to cope with them even when in superior numbers.
On the 24th Elphinstone addressed a letter to Macnaghten stating his opinion that their position could no longer be maintained, and that he should at once enter into negotiations with the enemy. He accordingly sent a message to the insurgent chiefs inviting them to send in a deputation to discuss the conditions of the treaty. Two of their leaders came in, but as they demanded that the British should surrender at discretion, giving themselves up, with all their arms, ammunition, and treasure, as prisoners of war, Macnaghten resolutely rejected the offered terms.
Angus had been constantly employed from the day he reached the cantonments. His work was to go out with small parties of the natives employed by the commissariat to bring in the grain that Boyd and Johnson had purchased. There was no slight risk in the work, for although the villagers were glad to sell their corn on good terms, the party who fetched it ran the risk of being cut off by any band of tribesmen they might encounter.
Of an evening he talked over the situation and prospects with the two officers. Absorbed in work as they all were, they were less influenced by the feeling of hopelessness than those who had nothing to do but to rage over the trap into which they had fallen through the incapacity of their leaders. Still, they did not attempt to disguise from themselves the magnitude of the danger.
"I have no faith in any treaty that could be made," Boyd said. "An Afghan is only bound by his word as long as it pays him to keep it. They will take Macnaghten's money, and will promise that we shall be allowed to go down the passes without molestation; but I am mistaken indeed if we shall not be attacked the moment we enter them. If they do so, few of us will ever get through. The men are weak now from want of sufficient food. They are utterly dispirited and demoralized, as is shown by their shameful flight yesterday. Besides, they will be encumbered with a host of camp followers, women, and children. I am still of opinion that our only hope is to take refuge in the Bala Hissar, and Shelton's vehement opposition has already put a stop to that. For myself, I would rather that they attacked us here, even if the attack meant our annihilation. It would be better to die so than cooped up hopelessly in the passes. At best the march would be a terrible one. The cold is severe already, and we hear that the snow is deep in the passes; not so deep as to render them impracticable, but deep enough to render the passage a terrible one."