To-day Sir Frederick Roberts and his Staff visited the ruins of the Residency within the walls of the Bala Hissar. The visit was made quietly and unostentatiously, only a sufficient escort being taken to guard against such accidents as a ghazi running amuck, or a handful of quondam rebels making an attack upon the leader of the army that has punished them. There is so much of historical interest attaching to the fortress which guards Cabul, and this interest has been so intensified by late events, that all of us who rode from Camp yesterday were full of expectation as to what we were likely to see. Following for half a mile the Jellalabad Road, lined on both sides with closely-planted trees, we turned sharply to the left when nearing the city, and were soon underneath the walls of the Bala Hissar itself. The shallow bed of the moat supposed to surround the city is nearly dry, and the road runs only a few yards from the foot of the rock against which the walls are reared. The masonry is crumbling to decay, but there are still signs of great stability in it, and the natural features of the ground have been so utilized that a precipitous face of 30 or 40 feet is presented to any enemy. This is on the eastern side to the right of the entrance-gate, just where Shere Ali’s palace, with its zenana, tops the wall. The road rises some 10 or 12 feet to the gate itself, which must once have been of enormous strength, as solid masonry 20 feet thick still remains. Here, again, there is evidence of ruin, the inner supports having crumbled away and the defensive position overhead lost its protecting parapets. The lower Bala Hissar once entered, one comes upon the usual narrow winding lanes and commonplace mud buildings of all eastern cities. The place looks filthy and uncared for, and the doorways leading to the courts of the tumble-down houses give a view of squalor and dilapidation suggestive of worse to follow. The few shops are miserable specimens of their kind, and their owners are in keeping with the general associations of the place. There is nothing better to describe than dust, dirt, and dreariness, on every hand; and even the small square, where a few guns were standing in front of a dozen dirty tents used by the gunners, gave as little idea of the interior of a fortress as a few grains of sand would of a desert. Six field-pieces and as many mountain guns were parked in the square. This was part of the artillery-quarters, and a few gunners with a trumpeter were standing near the guns. The men wore no uniform and looked like unwashed coolies. They saluted as Sir Frederick Roberts rode up, and the trumpeter welcomed us by blowing monotonously for several minutes upon his instrument.
It must be more than thirty-five years since British infantry marched through the filthy streets of this much-vaunted citadel; and our only regret was that they had now entered it so peacefully. Sir Frederick Roberts was accompanied by the Mustaufi, the Wazir, and Daoud Shah, the Commander-in-Chief. After a few minutes’ stay in this square, we retraced our steps and entered a narrow lane with a high wall on the right, shutting in the Amir’s garden. On the left were the stables in which the horses of the Royal household were tethered in the open air, rude bins being made in the mud walls on a pattern which is common where Afghan cavalry are quartered. The lane led to the high ground on which the buildings assigned to Sir Louis Cavagnari and his companions stood. From this the city could be seen lying at our feet, to the north.
Our first view of the Residency was of the rear wall, still intact, but blackened on the top where the smoke from the burning ruins had swept across. At each angle where the side walls joined were seen the loop-holes from which the fire of the little force on the roof had been directed against the overwhelming numbers attacking them. Every square foot round these loop-holes was pitted with bullet-marks, the balls having cut deeply into the hard mud plaster. The western wall, which faced towards the Upper Bala Hissar, commanding it, was scarred with these marks, proving only too well how severe had been the fire from the higher level occupied by the mutineers in the Arsenal. At this end the Residency was of three stories, but the present wall does not indicate the height of more than two, the upper part having collapsed when the fire obtained a mastery over the building. A lane six or eight feet wide runs between this wall and the buildings on the right in which the Guides were quartered. Plans hitherto published have made the Residency and these quarters one block; but this is a mistake; they were quite distinct.
Riding along the lane we came to the southern end of the Residency, built upon the edge of the wall looking towards Beni Hissar, and here were two graves marked by neatly-piled stones in Mussulman fashion, each with its head-stone, but no inscription. Whether any bodies are buried beneath remains to be seen; it is suspected these neat mounds may have been raised as “a blind.” The Kotwal stated that two sahibs were buried there, Lieutenant Hamilton and Mr. Jenkyns; but this does not coincide with the story told by Taimus, a sowar of the Guides, who says the bodies were buried some distance to the west of the Residency. Passing through a narrow gateway, half-blocked with rubbish, just in rear of these graves, we entered the main court of the Residency, and were soon thoroughly able to appreciate the fate of its defenders. The southern end on our right hand was standing untouched, and consisted of rooms built on wooden pillars so as to form a kind of oblong pavilion. The mud basement is three or four feet from the ground, and the whole structure, except a few partition walls and the roof, is of wood, and, from the dryness of the climate, very inflammable. It is neatly whitewashed, and the upper rooms, being open on both sides, must be cool and pleasant. These were Sir Louis Cavagnari’s quarters, and from them the rich Cabul plain beneath can be seen stretching away to the Tezin Hills. The courtyard of the Residency is about 90 feet square, and at its northern end, where formerly stood a three-storied building like that I have just described, are nothing but the bare walls, blackened and scarred by fire, and a huge heap of rubbish, the ruins of the walls and roof which fell in as the woodwork was destroyed. Portions of the partition walls still remain, jutting sullenly out from the mass of débris, and these only serve to make the place more desolate. The whitewashed walls on the left are here and there bespattered with blood, and on the raised basement on which the building stood are the remains of a large fire, the half-charred beams still resting among the ashes. The ruins are still smouldering. Whether, as suggested, any bodies were burned there, is still an unsettled point; but in one room into which I went there can be no doubt fire had been used for such a purpose. The ashes were in the middle of the chamber, and near them were two skulls and a heap of human bones, still fetid. It would seem as if a desperate struggle had taken place in this room, the bloodstains on the floor and walls being clearly discernible. The skulls are to be examined by surgeons, as it is possible they may be those of Europeans. The Residency was looted so thoroughly, that not even a peg has been left in the walls. In Sir Louis Cavagnari’s quarters the windows overlooking the Bala Hissar wall have been torn out even to the sashes, and a few bits of glass on the floor alone remain of them. The chintz hangings and purdahs have been stripped away, a fluttering bit of coloured rag on a stray nail being the only sign of such cheerfulness as these once gave. Bare cross-poles and rafters, floors rough with dirt and defiled with filth, staring white walls with here and there a bullet-mark—such are the once comfortable quarters of our Envoy. The view over the Cabul plain is still as peaceful as when poor Jenkyns described it so enthusiastically; but all else is changed. The one consolation is that a British army is encamped within gunshot of the walls.
It is still difficult to make out the point at which the mutineers obtained entry into the Residency buildings, unless it was by a hole in the eastern wall, a little to the right of a small doorway leading to a lower range of houses adjoining. Round this hole are scores of bullet-holes, and their direction seems to show that the defenders on the roof fired down as the men streamed in, in the vain hope of checking them before they could rush forward and set fire to the woodwork. Once the lower part of the three-storied building was in flames, nothing could save the brave men on the roof, as all retreat was cut off. We viewed the scene of desolation for some time from the roof of Sir Louis Cavagnari’s quarters; and General Roberts gave orders that nothing should be disturbed until careful sketches had been made of the interior of the Residency and its surroundings. Careful excavations for bodies will also be made among the ruins. It is absurd to talk of the Residency being a safe place for a garrison; it is commanded completely from the walls of the Arsenal in the Upper Bala Hissar, and also from the roofs of some high houses to the south-west. In addition, houses closely adjoin it on the eastern side; and an attacking party sapping the walls would have perfect cover in this direction the whole time: this may account for the breach in the walls through which I have suggested the mutineers made their rush. Riding into the quarters occupied by the Guides’ escort, on the western side of the lane, I found but few bullet-marks on the walls. Facing was a high door firmly closed and seemingly uninjured; but on going into the Sikh quarters on my right, and following a broad passage which turned at right angles towards the wall, a huge breach was visible. This was where the Afghans had blown in the gate after Lieutenant Hamilton’s noble, but ineffectual, efforts to check them. Three times he charged out, killing many men with his sword and pistol, but what could one hero do against a mob of fanatics? No doubt when it was seen that a breach was made the Guides withdrew to the Residency proper, and there made the last stand, first in the courtyard guarding the doors and afterwards on the roof.
On returning we stayed for a short time in the Amir’s garden, where fruit and tea were served to us. Afterwards we visited Shere Ali’s palace on the wall near the gate. Two or three dark passages had to be traversed before a staircase was gained which led to his State rooms. Persian carpets of value were spread in two rooms, in the second of which hung gaudy glass chandeliers, while on the ground (as if purposely placed out of harm’s way) was a collection of glassware of sorts showing all the colours of the rainbow. A few cheap prints, including one of the Czar Alexander, hung on the walls, and on a chair near was a Graphic folded so as to show a portrait of Cavagnari. On taking this up I came across a diary of Sir Louis Cavagnari’s, which seemed to have been used chiefly for recording lists of visits and visitors. The book was handed over to Major Hastings. Two or three maps of Central Asia were also among the papers; but it is doubtful to whom they belonged.
Camp Siah Sung, 12th October.
This morning the first formal declaration of our occupation of Cabul was made by the troops taking possession of the Bala Hissar, followed by a durbar, at which the terms imposed upon the city were announced. As I have before said, there was nothing to hinder us marching into the fortress the day after the battle of Charasia, for our cavalry videttes were within 200 yards of the walls, and not a sentry could be seen within the fortifications. They had been abandoned in hot haste by the mutineers, who had first of all drawn off to the Sherpur cantonments and thence betaken themselves to the Asmai Heights, from which they fled on the evening of the 8th. But there was no occasion for haste: our camp on the Siah Sung Ridge dominates the city, and we could have shelled it at our leisure if any signs of discontent, or an armed rising, had been observed. Besides, in dealing with Afghans, there is always the element of treachery to be considered, and it was not impossible that mines might have been laid ready to be sprung if we occupied the place precipitately. The explosion of the magazine at Sherpur, on the night of the 7th, had shown the desperate character of the men we were fighting against, and it was well to be on our guard against any surprise. It is impossible to say what vast stores of gunpowder may be hidden in the Upper Bala Hissar, where the Arsenal buildings are situated; and until we have thoroughly examined the godowns and vaults within the walls we are in the position of “playing with fire,” which may at any moment pass beyond our control. Sir F. Roberts’s visit to the ruins of the Residency yesterday went off quietly enough, and the fortress seemed deserted, save for the few Afghan residents in the houses within the outer walls; but a few reckless men may still lurk about waiting for an opportunity to work serious mischief.
This morning all the troops in camp paraded at eleven o’clock and marched down with bands playing to the Jellalabad Road, which they at once lined on either side. The men were arrayed in their gayest uniforms; and although many were worn and travel-stained, the general appearance of all the regiments was very smart and soldierlike. At noon word was brought to Sir F. Roberts that all was ready, and, accompanied by his Staff and Brigadier-Generals Massy, Macpherson, Baker, and Hugh Gough, and Major-General Hills, he rode down the Siah Sung Ridge, and took the road to the Bala Hissar. The cavalry lined the road for the first half-mile nearest to camp, the lances of the 14th Bengal Lancers glittering among the branches of the trees until they merged into the line of sabres of the 12th Bengal Cavalry, who looked none the worse for their late hard ride on the Bamian Road. Two rows of crimson turbans marked where the 5th Punjab Cavalry were drawn up; while the handful of 9th Lancers, gorgeous as on a parade at home, closed the cavalry array. First in the Infantry line were the scarlet coats of the 28th Native Infantry, contrasting vividly with the dull khaki uniform of the 23rd Pioneers—as fine a fighting and working regiment as ever drew batta. The mountain guns were next in order, looking down each other’s muzzles from either side of the road; while flanking them were the 5th Punjab Infantry, well known for good service on the frontier. The 7th Company of Sappers and Miners, stalwart men, bestrapped with spade and shovel, were then passed; while near them were the two Gatling guns, quite overpowered by their neighbours, the nine-pounders of G-3 Battery of Royal Artillery, which made themselves heard with good effect at Charasia. The Highland regiments, forming two living walls stretching far away towards the city, were the great representatives of British Infantry; the 92nd Gordon Highlanders, kilted and gaitered, resting on the 72nd, more warmly clad in tartan trews. Nothing could exceed the splendid form in which these regiments turned out, the bronzed and bearded faces of the soldiers showing that but few “six-year men” were in their ranks. The F-A Battery of Royal Horse Artillery was drawn up in a field just off the road, ready to fire the salute, and the post of honour next to the gate was assigned to the senior regiment, the 67th Foot, a well-set-up body of men, equal to any amount of work. On the ridge above the fortress we could see the dark figures of the 5th Ghoorkas, six companies of which had moved down and occupied the Upper Bala Hissar. As the General rode slowly down the long line of troops, the trumpets of the cavalry brayed out a fanfare and the band of each infantry regiment played right heartily, the men presenting arms with automatic precision. A halt was called just below the entrance to the Bala Hissar; and as the Union Jack was run up over the gateway by some red-jackets of the 67th, the first gun, of the royal salute of thirty-one, was fired by the Horse Artillery. At the same instant the opening bars of the National Anthem were heard as the bands struck up, the shrill pipes of the Highlanders ringing out above the din. The sight was a most impressive one, the sun lighting up the double line along which 4,000 bayonets sparkled, and throwing into bold relief the darker forms of men and horses where the cavalry were drawn up. In the background were the brown slopes of the Siah Sung Ridge, crowned by the white lines of tents which marked our camp, then almost deserted. Only a few spectators from the city clustered on the road from the Lahore Gate, and watched the spectacle, the mass of the people remaining sullenly within the walls.
The smoke of the first three or four guns had not cleared off when the company of the 67th nearest the gate faced round, and followed by their band, marched into the Bala Hissar—the first British regiment that had entered its narrow streets since 1842. (It is worthy of record that the “quick-step” played by the 67th is the same as that of the ill-fated 44th Regiment, not a man of which escaped to tell the tale of the disastrous retreat from Cabul which Pollock avenged.) Following the band, General Roberts and his little train of mounted men rode into the fortress, and took their way through its narrow streets to the Amir’s garden under the walls of the Upper Bala Hissar. At either end of this garden, which is now merely a neglected wilderness, are two of the ordinary wooden native pavilions, the one to the south containing what is called the “Audience Chamber.” This is approached by a flight of dirty wooden stairs, and is about twenty feet above the ground-level. The chamber is quite open on the side facing the garden, so that a crowd below could be addressed from it, and it also gives a good view over the city, with its background of high hills. The room was soon filled with the gay uniforms of the General and his staff and such officers as were not on duty with their regiments, and then the Durbar began, the Cabul Sirdars crowding in at a signal, and pressing forward to make their salaams to their latest conqueror. It was intended that the Amir should have accompanied General Roberts into the Bala Hissar; but at the last moment he pleaded indisposition, and was excused.[[15]] His eldest son, the heir-apparent, was sent instead. He is a child of five or six years of age, with a monkeyish cast of face, which not even the glitter and colour of his bizarre coat and hat, gorgeous in green and gold, could soften or render at all prepossessing. The youngest was of little account, being squeezed against the wooden framework[framework] of the pavilion by the greasy Sirdars, who could not control themselves in their eagerness to pay their respects. The General was not at all cordial in his reception of them; and it was not surprising, for a more servile or repulsive audience could not have been selected. Scarcely a face was visible that was not stamped with the marks of sensuality, and where age had softened these, it had replaced them by deeper lines of cunning and deception. There was a look of subdued malice in one or two faces, mingled with expectant fear of what terms were about to be imposed upon Cabul. The full figure of Daoud Shah, the late Commander-in-Chief, stood out prominently from the bunniah-like crowd about him, and, both in figure and bearing, he contrasted favourably with the sirdars. He was clothed simply in a long grey coat, belted at the waist; while the perspiring crowd of his fellows boasted garments of silk and beautifully-dyed clothes, some of the coats of many colours being so startling as to make one almost colour-blind. There was one thin red line, however, which never moved; it was that formed by some twenty men of the 67th, who, with fixed bayonets, were standing to “attention” at the back of the narrow room, stolid sentinels at their posts. Below, the rest of the two companies were formed up, and the band played some lively “troops,”—the airs played at the trooping of the colours. When these came to an end, a little space was cleared about the General, who read out the Proclamation, by which the punishment of Cabul was made known. It was translated, sentence by sentence, by the munshi of Major Hastings, Political Officer, and was listened to in perfect silence, the only token of approval being given by an old ressaldar of Hodson’s Horse, now enjoying his pension among his native orchards of Cabul. This man, with his breast decorated with medals earned by service in India, cried out emphatically “shabash!” when one or two sentences meting out punishment to the rebels were read, and it was clear all his sympathy was with us; for, with a true soldier’s instinct, he could not forgive the cowardice of the attack upon the Residency by an armed rabble, bent upon taking the lives of a few men who were their guests. The sirdars seemed relieved when they heard Cabul was not to be destroyed, and the disarmament of the population and the fine that had to be paid must have appeared to them small punishment so long as their city and fortress were left untouched. When the Proclamation had been read through, they were summarily dismissed, the Wazir, the Mustaufi, Yahiya Khan (father-in-law of the Amir), and his brother, Zakariah Khan, also, being asked to stay, as the General wished to speak to them. They doubtless thought they were to be consulted on questions of high policy, but their chagrin was great when they were told they would have to remain as prisoners until their conduct had been thoroughly investigated. They would be confined in separate rooms with sentries over them, and beyond one servant they would be forbidden to communicate with any of their associates. The Mustaufi fell to telling his beads at once, and the others appeared in a very wholesome state of fear. It was a startling surprise to them after all the smooth-sailing of the past few days, and they are now at leisure to ponder over their double-dealings with the British authority. This bit of by-play having been successfully got through, General Roberts left the audience chamber, and in a few minutes rode back to camp, the 67th cheering him right heartily as he passed out of the garden. The long line of bayonets, sabres, and lances was traversed at a gallop, and Siah Sung camp reached in a few minutes. The 67th moved into the Bala Hissar and encamped in the Amir’s garden, and thus the first day of our triumph over Cabul ended as happily as it began. Yakub Khan’s tent was removed during the day to the head-quarters’ camp, a guard of honour from the 72nd Highlanders keeping strict watch over it.