The Relief of Chitral

by G. J. Younghusband; Sir Francis Edward Younghusband

Truly on this thirteenth of April the outlook was not a bright one; but here came in one of those flashes of genius which go to win campaigns and undoubtedly helped to win this one. It occurred to those responsible for the conduct of the campaign that though it was impossible to convey a large force to Chitral in the given time, yet it was quite feasible to push through a small number of men who, falling on the rear of Sher Afzul, the general left by Umra Khan in charge of the siege, might form a welcome diversion. At first it was contemplated sending a mixed force of regulars and levies, but after careful deliberation it was decided that regulars would impede the rate of march, and that the effect being chiefly a moral one could be almost as surely gained by levies alone. The plan therefore was for the main force to cross the Panjkora, and to fight a decisive battle with Umra Khan, whilst our ally the Khan of Dir, covered by this movement, was despatched up the left bank of the Panjkora River, with orders to cross the Lowarai Pass, 10,450 feet high, to descend into the Chitral Valley, and to give out far and wide that he was merely the advanced guard of the force, which had conquered Swat and Bajour, and had heavily defeated the hitherto invincible general Umra Khan.

Dir Fort.

In pursuance of this plan the Khan of Dir was ordered to move forward with 1,000 men and to cross the Lowarai Pass, and immediately the bridge over the Panjkora River was completed, General Blood moved rapidly forward in charge of a cavalry reconnaissance towards Umra Khan's stronghold at Munda. Advancing with a squadron of the Guides Cavalry, General Blood moved up the Jandul River till the large and important village of Miankila was in sight. Here a peasant was met who entered freely into conversation. The General asked him where Umra Khan was. He said, "Over there in that fort," pointing to Munda, just over the brow of a rise in the ground. "Will you take him a note and bring an answer?" asked the General. "Certainly," said the peasant, "I will be back in half an hour." So calling to his assistance the linguistic proficiency of Captain Nixon, of the Intelligence Department, a polite and cordial note was written to Umra Khan, asking him to come out into the open and have a talk with the General, in all good fellowship, and "without prejudice." The answer came back before long, and was to the following effect: "After greetings, I should greatly like to meet your excellency, and to have a quiet talk with you, whereby the whole affair might be easily settled. But unfortunately I am surrounded by about 3,000 Ghazis, and these bad men will not hear of my going out to see. You too I notice are accompanied by warriors. Assuredly no quiet conversation can take place under these circumstances. Now I propose that you send away your army and I will send away mine, and then you and I can have our conference alone in the field." This was all very nice and friendly; but meanwhile dense columns of the enemy began to issue from Miankila and Munda, and moving with astonishing rapidity, occupied both banks of the river, which is here easily fordable everywhere, and began to press on the cavalry. The reconnoitring party moved back quietly, till the head of the infantry column became visible, hastening up. This was the 3rd Infantry Brigade under General Gatacre, accompanied by the 11th Bengal Lancers and the Derajat Mountain Battery.

The battery opened fire at once, and the cavalry moved up the river bed, here very broad and open, whilst the infantry advanced to the attack up the right bank of the stream. But from the first moment, though Umra Khan was present in person, it was quite evident that the enemy did not mean "business." The severe lessons of former battles had begun to tell upon them, and their resistance was only half-hearted. The 3rd Brigade pushed home their advantage, and the enemy retired before them, losing only a few men, till towards evening their whole force was to be seen in full retreat up the distant valley into Nawagai. The troops bivouacked in the forward position they had gained, and the 2nd Brigade was ordered up in the expectation that the enemy would make a determined stand on the morrow. But the morrow showed nothing but deserted positions and deserted forts, and thus easily had been fought and won the final engagement which decided the campaign, and sent Umra Khan, the victor in a hundred fights, ruined and broken to exile, and premature death in Kabul.

When we say ruined, however, let us understand the word in a moral sense. Pecuniarily Umra Khan is anything but ruined, for one of our spies counted eleven mule loads of treasure leaving Munda fort one night under a strong escort. Each mule would carry Rs.6,000 in silver, or Rs.120,000 in gold, or any sum one likes to mention in jewels. Taking a rough average between silver and gold, and leaving jewels out of consideration, we shall be able to calculate that eleven mule loads of treasure would keep Umra Khan and his family very comfortably for the rest of their days.

Some weeks after, when escorting Sher Afzul to India, I heard many stories of Umra Khan. Like a wise man, knowing the uncertain tenor of an Eastern monarch's reign, he had taken care to feather his nest whilst his power lasted. He exacted a tithe of their profits from all, merchants or agriculturists, and the money thus accumulated, he changed into gold at a rate of exchange fixed by himself. Thus if the real value of a Russian gold coin was Rs.20, by royal edict, and for the benefit of the royal purchaser, it became Rs.18. Gold is very scarce in Asia, but a certain number of Russian coins filter across, and gold ornaments are to be found here and there. All these Umra Khan assiduously collected, so that at the time of his flight he probably had a goodly treasure.

One evening before the British advance began, after attending evening prayers on the praying platform in the clump of chenars below Munda fort, Umra Khan, turning to his followers, said: "I have just received a letter from Gholam Hyder, the Commander-in-Chief of the Afghan army. His proposal is that I shall invade the Peshawur Valley by way of the Malakand with 30,000 men, and that he will co-operate through the Khyber Pass with 10,000 men. What say you, my brave warriors?" Whereupon the whole assembly arose with a mighty shout, "To Peshawur!" travestying a somewhat more celebrated cry which was heard in Europe in 1870. Whether such a letter had been received or not, and whether, if it had been, it was anything more than one of those neighbourly acts by which, in the East, one friend lures another to certain destruction, it is not necessary here to discuss. The anecdote is merely told as showing the immense confidence Umra Khan had in his own powers, and the faith his followers had in his skill. Years of conquest, and years of unchequered success, had led the petty border chieftain into half thinking that he could withstand the power of a mighty empire. It was a thousand pities that this chief took up the attitude he did. If he had chosen to be the friend of the British, he might now be despotic ruler of all the country which lies between Chitral and Peshawur Valley, with the firm alliance of the British Government at his back.

When the cavalry, riding on rapidly, captured the abandoned fort of Munda, every trace of a rapid flight was apparent. Books and grain were strewn about, dismounted cannon lay at the gate, everything was topsy-turvey and turned inside out, and the sole occupant was a poor, deformed idiot. Amongst the papers found lying about were some of considerable interest. One was from a certain mullah[2] who, before the battle, wrote from the summit of the Malakand Pass. He said: "We see the infidels, the sons of pigs, encamped down in the plains below us. There are very few of them, and we shall easily send them all to Hell. On our side we have twelve or fifteen thousand Ghazis, and the place is well fortified with sangars. To-morrow or next day I shall have the honour of informing your Excellency that the infidels have been extirpated"; and so on. It is highly probable that the worthy mullah spent the next few days in breaking the record towards Upper Swat, or else, perchance, his bones now lie on the Malakand.