There has been for so many years such a peculiar interest attaching to the name of Cabul, that one naturally expected to be struck with the appearance of the city; and it was therefore disappointing to find nothing in its features remarkable or impressive. Viewed from the ridge in which we are now encamped, the town presents a mass of mud walls and flat roofs, with trees and gardens scattered among them, and belting them on the north and east with rich verdure. To the west the bastions and walls of the Bala Hissar, and the double line of fortifications about the Arsenal, stand out in bold relief; the steep hills to the north and south, with the open gorge through which the Cabul river runs, forming an imposing background. Apart from these there are no distinctive signs to distinguish the place from any other Eastern city; in fact, it lacks the tall buildings, mosques, and minarets which many a centre of Mahomedan fanaticism boasts. The strong wall which once guarded it and made it a place of strength has crumbled away, or been broken down, and in its place are the wretched mud structures called houses, in which it pleases the citizens to live. There is one landmark, the tomb of Taimur Shah: its low dome standing out in solitary state, and only noticeable by reason of the dead level of dreariness which surrounds it. The Cabul River is now dwarfed to a shallow streamlet which a child could wade, and the paltry bridges of masonry which span it are half ruinous, and of a style which any Western engineer would despise. The fact that there is a river at all is only patent when we come suddenly upon it; and though it may in flood-time swirl along with some attempt at dignity, it is now beneath contempt. The broad current which roars by Daka, and finally swells the Indus above Attock, would be angered if it could see its parent stream crawling so sluggishly along that even a dhobie’s stone might turn it from its course. It is not at Cabul a river to be proud of, however much it may fertilize the valleys through which it runs. It is practical and commonplace, and the latter epithet applies with some little reserve to Cabul itself. There is not the overwhelming interest aroused as one traverses its streets that might be reasonably anticipated; and the picture of its teeming life and swarming bazaars has certainly been overdrawn. I do not mean to infer that its streets are deserted and its stalls forsaken. There are 23,000 houses and some 70,000 people within its bounds; but there is no greater sign of active commerce than Peshawur and half a dozen other cities of Northern India present to a stranger. As it is far from civilization, and is the first and last stage between Central Asia and India, accordingly as the current of trade sets in either direction, it has drawn to itself merchants of varied nationality, and become an exchange where trafficking in Eastern and Western goods goes on side by side. In one stall the silks of Bokhara and indigenous products of the Khanates are packed side by side with the cloths of Manchester; while in another Sheffield cutlery and “Brummagem” goods are the near neighbours of the rudely-made iron-ware and roughly-finished jewellery of native artificers. That the bazaars are full of goods of all kinds, from diamonds to dhoties, and from kabobs to cabbages, is quite true, but it all seems petty trading, and the stalls, if numerous, are small and insignificant-looking. The city feeds as it trades—in its bazaars; and the picturesque view of a silk-merchant’s shop is marred by its association with the masses of meat on the butcher’s stall adjoining, or the incongruous grouping of the filthy goods of a clothesman near by. And yet when once the feeling of disappointed expectations has been overcome, there is much to notice and criticise, both in the people and the place. Our ride through was necessarily a hurried one—it is never good policy to make long halts when traversing for the first time the streets of a conquered city—and apart from the above comments, which I have set down, as they are the general impressions left upon my mind after a hasty visit, I will try to give a rough sketch of Cabul, such as we saw it to-day. That it was seen under abnormal circumstances should, of course, be steadily kept in mind.
After entering by the Lahore Gate, wide enough to admit two horsemen abreast with comfort—the gate is nothing more than the usual tall wooden framework let into the dilapidated mud wall—we entered a dirty, ill-kept street, and followed it for a short distance until it branched off right and left, to the Char Chowk, or chief bazaar in the Afghan quarter on the one hand, and to Chandaul on the other. We took the latter road to the left, the dead walls of the houses shutting in all but the immediate view. Little gaps on the left, where side passages had been made, enabled us to see the wall of the Bala Hissar, in places only forty or fifty yards off. It looked strong and menacing when compared with the city itself. Leaving the fortress behind we turned to the right, and were soon in a narrow, but well-kept, bazaar. The stalls, raised two or three feet from the ground, were filled with articles such as one always meets in native Indian cities, varied occasionally by heaps of grapes, melons, apples, and fruit and vegetables of the kind which the gardens about produce so lavishly. This was the Hindu quarter, and the stall-owners watched us ride past with every expression of satisfaction, salaaming smilingly, and no doubt praying that the English raj might now be established and last for ever. These Hindus have had rough times to endure when their Afghan masters have played the tyrant, and they now see an era of safety and rupees before them which shall repay them for all their past sufferings. The bazaars continued for a considerable distance, and Hindu faces with their caste marks were replaced after a time by a new type, which showed that we were among the Persian residents, the Kizilbashes,[[16]] who form so large a proportion of the population. They are, as a rule, orderly and well-disposed, and, being keen traders, are glad to see us as their neighbours. Traversing the main street of Chandaul, we left the bazaar and came to a better class of houses, all, however, gloomy and uninviting to look at, the high courtyard walls hindering any view of the interior. There were crowds of men and boys at every street-corner and gateway, and at intervals we caught sight of a white-robed figure veiled from head to foot, out of which a pair of eyes just glanced for a moment to look at the cavalcade, and were then hidden by a deft movement of the hand or a turn of the head. On house-tops or at narrow windows high above the street, similar figures looked down, feminine curiosity proving too much even for the restraint which controls life in the zenana. With such faint glimpses we could form no idea of the charms of the women of Cabul; against indiscretions with whom, by the bye, we have been solemnly warned in the following order issued by our General:—
“Sir F. Roberts desires general officers and officers commanding corps to impress upon all officers under their command the necessity for constant vigilance in preventing irregularities likely to arouse the personal jealousy of the people of Cabul, who are, of all races, the most susceptible in all that regards their women. The deep-seated animosity of the Afghans towards the English has been mainly ascribed to indiscretions committed during the first occupation of Cabul; and the Major-General trusts that the same excellent discipline, so long exhibited by the troops under his command, will remove the prejudices of past years, and cause the British name to be as highly respected in Afghanistan as it is throughout the civilized world.”
There is another version of this old story, that the indiscretion was all on the side of the Afghan ladies; and it is to be hoped the order will be translated into Persian for their benefit. Until this is done, the virtue of our brave soldiers must tremble in the balance, the conjugation of amo in Persian being described as the most fascinating step in Eastern philology—when the teacher is draped in a yashmak.
From Chandaul we passed through one of the usual gates, and, crossing the Cabul River by a narrow masonry bridge of three small arches, rode along a path in the western suburbs of Deh-i-Afghan skirting the bed of the stream. Several gardens filled with fruit trees, but otherwise much neglected, were passed, and some houses of sufficient size to warrant the belief that their owners were men of importance. The handsome villas Cabul is said to be proud of were certainly not to be seen. Re-crossing the river by another bridge not far from Taimur Shah’s tomb, we entered the Afghan quarter of the city, the route lying through the Char Chowk, so called from the four small squares with drinking fountains which are found at about equal distances along the bazaar. The place was crowded with people, from gaudily-dressed merchants to poor, ill-clad Hazara coolies (the Hazara log are the hewers of wood and drawers of water all over Afghanistan), and there was much diversity of costume and character. No sign of resentment was shown towards us; but a sullen silence was maintained, and the villainous faces seen from time to time caused many of us to wish that a little decimation, or some equally healthy operation, had been performed among these ruffians. The side-streets were more crowded than in the Chandaul quarter, and a sharp look-out was kept for any fanatical attempt to run amuck among us. The lances of the General’s escort and the rifles of the orderlies on foot were ready for an emergency; a bloodthirsty little Ghoorka among the orderlies having hitched his kookrie round so as to have it handy. But no ghazi or budmash appeared anxious for martyrdom, and we wended our way onwards peacefully. Not an arm of any kind was carried by any person in the crowd, and the armourers’ shops were quite empty; the grindstones, on which many a chura and tulwar has been sharpened, were lying idle on the ground. This turbulent populace has been cowed by our prompt march upon their city, and as the Afghans heard behind us the shrill shriek of the pipers and saw the Highlanders in their kilts stepping along in easy confidence, they must have known their time had gone by. Of course, all trade was suspended while the march was going on, and the stall-keepers looked far from pleased at our intrusion. There was none of the impulsive salaaming we had been received with in Chandaul, and many stood up almost defiantly as if to vindicate their claim to be considered the salt of the earth. What lay behind in the thickly-packed houses on either side of the bazaar none of us could say,—General Hills, the new Governor, may soon know; but we could quite believe from the scowling faces seen in the side-streets that fanatical hatred against us was still alive, if for the time it was held in check. When we proceed with our work of disarmament, perhaps it may flash out; and then who knows that a repetition of Pollock’s policy may not follow, and the Char Chowk be blown to the four winds of heaven.
The bazaar is covered in at some height above the stalls, which can be numbered by the hundred; and is very narrow and cramped. It would be impossible to describe in detail the arrangement of the shops; but the most attractive were certainly those of the silk merchants, whose goods, with their brilliant colours and fine texture, were openly displayed. Richly-braided caps and coats; boots elaborately worked in gold and silver; cutlery and cloths, both English and native; sweets, fruit on every hand in huge heaps, grain, spices, saddles, harness for mules and camels, piles of blankets and felt numdahs of wonderful patterns, and scores of other articles that I cannot set down, succeeded each other as stall after stall was passed; and a further medley was formed by the heaps of parched gram and chupaties (flat unleavened cakes), plates of horrible stews and greasy-looking messes which were exposed for sale. Next a butcher’s shop full of meat curiously cut up and hung about in admired disorder, would be a kabob stall, the keeper of which would be cooking his dainty morsels in the open air, and tempting passengers to try his savoury little sticks. In all the small squares which I have before mentioned as giving the name to the bazaar, groups of men were lounging or squatting about the tank in the middle of the open space, and here, doubtless, much of the bartering with strangers and merchants from a distance is carried on. The buildings in the squares are more pretentious than elsewhere, rising to a height of three or four stories, and their fronts and chief doorways are handsomely ornamented.
Our ride through was soon over, and we arrived at the street where we had turned off to Chandaul in about an hour and a half from the time of entering the city. Only one mosque was passed on the way, just as we were leaving the Char Chowk, and the voice of a moollah, shrieking “Allah-il-Ullah,” and perhaps cursing us under his breath, could be heard within the courtyard, rising over all the din made by our horses as they stumbled over the rough ground. Whatever fanaticism there may be in Cabul—and that it is highly fanatical historical events have only too sadly shown—it is clearly under a cloud now; and as long as we remain in the Bala Hissar, with a force ready for all contingencies, it can never make much headway. Our march through having been happily ended, Sir F. Roberts drew rein outside the Lahore Gate, and watched the infantry brigades file out with bands playing and colours flying. Thus ended our second and final triumph in the humiliation of Cabul, and now there lies before us the work of detection and punishment of those who shared in the massacre of our Envoy. That there are many in the city all our information leads us to believe, and we are not likely to let them escape.
It is reported that nine regiments are marching down from Turkistan to Cabul, and are even now at Charikar in Kohistan. Two squadrons of the 12th Bengal Cavalry go out to-morrow to reconnoitre the road. Two fatal cases of cholera occurred to-day; generally, however, the force is in splendid health. Too liberal indulgence in fruit may possibly have been the cause of the cholera. Brigadier-General Gough will start in a few days, with a small force, for the Shutargardan, whence he will bring on supplies. The 14th Bengal Lancers have captured twelve guns (six 9-pounders and six mule guns) on the Bamian Road, which were abandoned by the Ghazni Regiments. The horses had been taken away. So far we have heard nothing of the Khyber Force, which is supposed to co-operate with this division, and our letters are still sent to the Shutargardan.
Camp Siah Sung, 16th October.
We had begun to settle down to a quiet life in camp here after our full-dress parade through the Bala Hissar and the city, and after all our late excitement a little rest was very welcome; but we have been suddenly shaken into action by such an untoward event as the explosion of the vast stores of gunpowder in the Cabul Arsenal, in the neighbourhood of the 67th Regiment and the 5th Ghoorkas, who were garrisoning the fortress. It was announced, while we were marching here from Kushi, that the rebels in Cabul had plundered the Arsenal and looted the magazine, but this was found afterwards to be only partially true. They had certainly carried off many rifles from the Arsenal and several thousand rounds of ammunition, but there was still left munitions of war sufficient to have supplied all Afghanistan. A systematic examination, under the direction of Captain Shafto, of the Ordnance Department, was set on foot immediately our troops went into garrison in the Bala Hissar, and the result was the discovery of some millions of cartridges, Enfield and Snider, of English and Afghan make, and some 150,000 lbs. of gunpowder, besides valuable stores, such as could he useful to an army engaged in active warfare. Daoud Shah, the late Commander-in-Chief of the Afghan army states, there is at least 1,000,000 lbs. of gunpowder hidden in the place. The Arsenal was little worthy of its name; there were no regular workshops, no foundry and but little machinery, the building being merely made up of a score or more of godowns (sheds) arranged under the strong walls of the upper part of the Bala Hissar, on the hill immediately overlooking the Residency and the Amir’s pleasure-garden, where the Durbar was held by Sir F. Roberts. In these godowns there was none of that care and precaution taken, such as is insisted upon in English arsenals and magazines. The gunpowder was chiefly stored in huge earthen gurrahs and dubbers (such as ghee is usually carried in), and in many instances these had been tilted over and loose powder scattered on the ground. Bits of iron, stray caps, and friction tubes for artillery lay about in dangerous proximity to these, and Captain Shafto had to display the greatest caution in examining the place. There was no magazine proper to speak of; though one godown, which was looked upon as specially worthy of the name, had in it 410 jars of about 150 lbs. each, or over twenty-seven tons of gunpowder. This was a little detached from the other godowns, and was looked after carefully, as the effect of such a quantity of powder exploding would be terrific. The Arsenal walls face to the four points of the compass, that on the north looking over the city, while the eastern wall frowns down upon the lower Bala Hissar, and commands the whole of the houses below. The walls are of great thickness at the base, arising out of the solid rock, which runs down precipitously on three sides, while to the west it rises gradually until it forms part of the narrow spur joining the fortress to the high ridge above. On the eastern side, just at the foot of the rock, is built the Amir’s pavilion with its oblong garden, some one hundred yards in length, which I described in one of my late letters. About this garden are clustered houses of all kinds, and at the base of the rocky hill on the north are also dwelling-houses. The Guides’ quarters, the Residency, and some high buildings are near the south-eastern corner, past which a road leads up to the gate of the Arsenal in its southern wall. The outer walls of the fortress are less than one hundred yards away, facing over the Cabul plain, the strong bastions giving them the appearance of great stability. The 5th Ghoorkas were in tents near the south-west corner of the Arsenal, and had luckily moved a little distance away this morning, as the wall looked suspiciously weak. The whole of the 67th Foot were encamped within the walls of the Amir’s garden, and had in their custody the Mustaufi and four other prisoners now awaiting trial. The two Gatling guns were with the troops in the Bala Hissar. In order that a just idea may be formed of the two explosions which occurred, and the probability of a third greater than all, which we are now expecting, I give below a list of the godowns and their contents furnished to me by Captain Shafto two days ago. He had examined up to that date seventeen godowns, and their contents were:—