The enemy had been firing intermittently both from the Baba Wali Kotal and the Gundigan direction from daybreak, and it looked as if they were full of fight and not inclined to shirk joining issue with us. Our original plan had to be somewhat modified owing to Ayub Khan or his generalissimo, the Naib Hafizulla, having pushed their men round to the southern face of the Pir Paimal Ridge. Gundigan had been occupied during the night, and the order that Gough’s cavalry with the four guns of E-B, R.H.A. (escorted by two companies of the 7th Fusiliers and four companies of the 28th Bombay Native Infantry), should form up on the low hill above the village could not be carried out. The movement was attempted, but it was at once seen that the place must be cleared by our infantry before cavalry could hope to get past. The movements of the cavalry on our left, which were to have been simultaneous with those of the two attacking brigades, were therefore delayed, General Gough having to take his brigade some eight miles round before he could strike the Argandab River. This was one forced modification of our plans, and a second was that the village of Mullah Sahibdad, on a low mound between Karez Hill and the Pir Paimal Ridge, had to be taken first by General Macpherson’s Brigade, as some hundreds of Afghans had established themselves in it after nightfall the previous day. But all this was known long before General Roberts moved to Karez Hill, and preparations were made accordingly. General Ross had command of the infantry attack, and directed General Macpherson’s Brigade to move forward through the gap between the Picquet and Karez Hills, clear the village of Mullah Sahibdad in their left front, and then pass on under the Pir Paimal Ridge, working their way between the canals along the lower slopes. General Baker was ordered to take his brigade out to the left of Karez Hill, skirmish through the orchards, clear Gundigan village, and all the enclosures about it, and join hands with the 1st Brigade in the final movement round the Pir Paimal Ridge. Macpherson’s Brigade was to be the brigade of direction, as it was moving on an inner line, and would probably first reach the Pir Paimal village on the northern slope of the ridge, to capture which would ensure the Baba Wali Kotal being taken in reverse. The action commenced soon after nine o’clock by our demonstration against that Kotal. In Kalacha-i-Haidar, near our old cavalry lines and some 2,200 yards from the Baba Wali Kotal, Brigadier-General Burrows had in position four 40-pounder breech-loading Armstrong guns, with four companies of the 7th Fusiliers, the 4th and 19th Bombay Infantry, and some Sappers. Six guns of C-2, R.A., were also in position at the Childukhteran village, between Karez and the Picquet Hills. Brigadier-General Daubeny, with four companies of the 66th Foot and four companies of the 28th Bombay Infantry, was holding a line between Chilzina on the left and Picquet Hill on the right; the latter hill being crowned by two companies of the 1st Grenadiers. Further away on the right Brigadier-General Nuttall was watching both the Baba Wali and Murcha Kotals with the 3rd Scind Horse, 3rd Bombay Light Cavalry, and the head-quarters of the Poona Horse. This made a good display of force on our right, and at 9.15 A.M. precisely the 40-pounders began a vigorous cannonade of the Baba Wali Kotal. The shells seemed to burst with great accuracy, but the three guns of the enemy in position there answered bravely enough, the shells showing that two breech-loading Armstrong 9-pounders and one of our own Horse Artillery guns were mounted in the Pass. There was much stir and excitement among such of the enemy as could be seen on the hills, but this was greatly increased when the guns of C-2 began shelling the village of Mullah Sahibdad. Bullets from Martini and Snider rifles could be heard singing overhead, as if the Afghan marksmen tried long shots in the direction of the battery; but the enemy in the village kept well under cover, and when six guns of the screw battery also opened upon the houses from just in front of the Karez Hill, the shelling was so continuous that no one dared show himself beyond the walls. Under cover of this fire General Ross began the infantry movement. General Macpherson moved the 2nd Ghoorkas and 92nd Highlanders out to the right and front of the village, the 23rd Pioneers (who had furnished an escort to the screw-guns), and the 24th Punjabees following the leading regiments as supports. At the same time General Baker got his brigade into motion and entered the orchards and enclosures which shut him out from Gundigan.
To follow the movements of General Macpherson’s Brigade first: the 92nd and 2nd Ghoorkas had orders to “rush” the village without a halt, and they carried out their orders to perfection. It was the turn of the Ghoorkas to lead the brigade, and they were first out into the open, skirmishing rapidly forward under Colonel Battye and going straight for the southern front of the village. The 92nd under Colonel Parker worked round to the right, never pausing and doing but little in the way of returning the enemy’s fire, which now became very rapid, the Afghans appearing on the roofs of the houses and lining every available wall. C-2 and 6-8 batteries renewed their shelling over the heads of our men, and this had a good moral effect, as the roofs of the houses were swept by shrapnel. At half-past ten the village had been carried at the point of the bayonet, the Ghoorkas, having the shortest distance to cover, entering first from the Karez Hill side, while the 92nd rushed in from the opposite side. A stubborn resistance was offered to their advance, the 92nd losing several men killed and wounded; among the latter being Lieutenants Menzies and Stewart. Lieutenant-Colonel Battye of the 2nd Ghoorkas was slightly wounded on the right shoulder, but he continued to lead his men. The village was full of ghazis, who sold their lives dearly, many shutting themselves up in underground chambers and firing upon our men as they passed. Some 200 Afghans were killed in this village alone. Lieutenant Menzies had a narrow escape. After he had been wounded he was placed in an empty room, for the sake of shade and comfort, when a ghazi, hidden in an inner room, rushed out, cut down one of the guard, and slashed Menzies over the head and back. The fanatic was killed before he could do any further mischief. C-2 and 6-8 batteries advanced when the village had been taken, and were soon again in action, firing at the lower slopes of the ridge and into such bodies of Afghans as could be seen in the enclosures in front. So many men remained hidden in the village that Lieutenant-Colonel Battye remained with some of the Ghoorkas to clear them out; and two low hills north of the village had also to be cleared by part of the brigade, as the enemy, scattered about, occupied them in considerable numbers. But the main advance could not be delayed for these considerations, and the 92nd and two companies of the 2nd Ghoorkas (under Major Becher), with the 23rd Pioneers and 24th Punjab Native Infantry in support, disregarding a few shells from the Baba Wali Kotal, moved towards the south-western end of the ridge above them. They soon became involved in dry water-cuts, orchards, and enclosures, every yard of which had to be skirmished through, while a smart fire was poured down upon them from the crest of the ridge where the enemy mustered in force. General Macpherson told off picked marksmen to keep down this fire from above, and their steady shooting checked it to a great extent. Leaving Major White with the leading companies of the 92nd and Major Becher with his Ghoorkas to continue their hard fight round the corner of the ridge, I must turn now to the 2nd Brigade, which had penetrated into the maze of walls, trees and water-cuts on the left of General Macpherson’s line of advance.
General Baker, upon moving out to the left of the Karez Hill, had, in his first line, the 72nd Highlanders, under Colonel Brownlow, and the 2nd Sikhs, the latter being on the right. In the next line, in immediate support, were the 5th Ghoorkas (in rear of the 72nd), No. 2 Mountain Battery, and the 3rd Sikhs (in rear of the 2nd Sikhs), with the 2nd Beluchis in reserve and escorting the Field Hospital. I have indicated the work which lay in front of the brigade, which had to work its way through walled orchards and gardens, where it was difficult to keep touch, and where at times the men could only see a few yards on either hand. But the work was done splendidly, the order of the day being to keep moving, and when once engaged to go steadily onward until the ridge should be turned. The right wing of the 72nd Highlanders, under Major Stockwell, carried orchard after orchard; but one check occurred where Captain Frome’s company, resting for a moment in a dry watercourse, was subjected to a terrible enfilading fire from a loopholed wall which the 2nd Sikhs were trying to turn on the right. Captain Frome and several men were shot down, and just when the fire was hottest Colonel Brownlow came up. He was on foot, and had just entered the watercourse, and was ordering a rush forward to be made when he was struck in the neck by a bullet and mortally wounded. He was dragged a little under cover, but died in a few minutes. His second in command, Major Stockwell, hearing of his death, hurried to the watercourse where Captain Frome’s men were lying under such shelter as they could get, and forming them up round a protecting elbow of the channel made a rush at the wall. Once under the loopholes, the men were safe; and the defenders of the wall beginning to waver, the Highlanders placed the muzzles of their rifles through the loopholes from outside and poured a few volleys into the enclosure, completely demoralizing such of the enemy as remained. From this isolated struggle, which cost the 72nd so dear, an idea of the severity of the fighting may be formed. The right wing of the 72nd and the 2nd Sikhs were forced by the enemy’s tactics to cover so much ground to the right that they left Gundigan on their left rear; but the left wing of the Highlanders under Major Guinness, and the 5th Ghoorkas, under Captain FitzHugh, cleared it with ease; so shaken were the men left to defend it by seeing their fellows running from the orchards beyond. General Baker’s right had cleared the densest part of the gardens a short distance in advance of the 92nd on the right, but no sooner did they come a little into the open than the masses of the enemy in front tried to “rush” them; while three guns in position at the foot of a high hill, Kharoti Ridge, north of the Pir Paimal Ridge, opened fire upon them. Some of the ghazis actually charged into the ranks of the 2nd Sikhs, but could make no impression. The 72nd, seeing a large body of men preparing for a rush, fixed bayonets and charged out, completely dispersing the armed mob in front of them. One ghazi, more resolute than the rest, was shot by a sergeant at five yards’ distance. Captain Murray had just given the word to charge, and had leaped out of a ditch with his men, when he was struck in the shoulder by a bullet fired from the ridge and severely wounded.
The 92nd Highlanders and Major Becher’s Ghoorkas were now in alignment with the right of General Baker’s Brigade, and the time had come for the final rush round the ridge. The enemy’s right rested on the northern slope of Pir Paimal Ridge and extended across a basin (it can scarcely be called a kotal) between that ridge and the high Kharoti hill to the north already referred to. Behind the northern hill the large canals and watercourses from the Argandab River run, the river itself being a few hundred yards beyond the series of channels. It was in this basin that Ayub’s army made its final stand. It had no real entrenchments to line, but a deep water-cut 12 feet broad, with banks 2 or 3 feet high, and with cultivated fields in front, served as an excellent defence. The banks had been ingeniously loopholed for rifle-fire. There were two camps of twenty or thirty tents each in rear of this channel. The first was well away to General Baker’s left under the northern hill, and in it were three guns; the second was in the middle of the basin and had two guns in position. The village of Pir Paimal was on the slope some distance to the left front of the second camp and right in the path of Macpherson’s Brigade. The latter were moving in an inner circle close under the ridge, while General Baker’s troops had to work well round to the left so as to close with the guns under the northern hill and block all escape from the basin in that direction.
The action from this point can best be understood by following the movements of the 92nd Highlanders and 2nd Ghoorkas. They rounded the south-western face of the Pir Paimal Ridge, and succeeded in capturing the village of that name by a series of “rushes” and by turning the walls on the right. Major White, with the leading companies of his regiment, then found himself face to face with some thousands of men, who seemed determined to make a final stand about their two guns in the basin. The plan of our attack was for the two brigades to sweep steadily up the basin in line; but General Macpherson saw that as he had advanced so far, and there was a tendency among the enemy to surge forward in overwhelming numbers, there was nothing for it but to continue his advance. Whenever the 92nd and Ghoorkas halted and tried volley-firing the enemy ceased to retire, and began skirmishing back to the places from which they had been driven. The 23rd Pioneers had also worked up on the left to aid the Highlanders, and Major White got his men together for a charge. The enemy had tried, by turning the water into another and a dry channel, to check our advance; but this was a complete mistake. Our men were faint from thirst, and they welcomed the water as giving new life and strength. Major White rode along the front of the watercourse in which the Highlanders were lying under cover and called out to them: “Highlanders, will you follow me if I give you a lead for those guns?” There was but one answer—a ringing cheer, and the next moment the men were rushing across the open ground led by the pipers, playing the Slogan, while Major White rode serenely on in front drawing upon himself a terrific fire. The guns were in rear of a watercourse with high banks, and sheltered by this the Afghans fired rapidly and well. A small building protected their right, and some 300 or 400 riflemen lying on the slopes of the Pir Paimal Hill poured in a heavy cross-fire upon the 92nd. But the Highlanders were not to be checked, and though upwards of forty men of the leading companies fell, killed or wounded, they carried the guns at the point of the bayonet. Major White leaped into the watercourse some yards ahead of his men, and found that his horse could not climb up the steep bank. He therefore remained quietly watching the enemy firing almost into his face, one Afghan deliberately aiming at his head at a few yards’ distance. This man and some ghazis were killed where they stood, Major White getting his horse out of the ditch just as the Highlanders jumped into the water. The artillerymen had deserted their guns some time before, and had left both pieces double-shotted. A story, which is well found if it be not true, is told of a Ghoorka who had attached himself all day to the Highlanders. He managed to reach one of the guns first, and leaping up on it he waved his cap and cried in Hindustani:—“This gun belongs to my regiment—2nd Ghoorkas! Prince of Wales’s!” Then he thrust his cap down the muzzle, in order that there might be no dispute as to future ownership. The brilliant charge of the 92nd, ably seconded by Major Becher and his two companies of the 2nd Ghoorkas, with the 23rd Pioneers rushing up in support, was one of the leading incidents of the day, the rapidity of the whole affair being almost as startling to General Roberts and General Ross as it must have been to the enemy.[[48]] The mass of men, said variously to have numbered from 8,000 to 10,000, who had gathered in the orchards and been driven into the basin and towards the rear of the Baba Wali Kotal, were hopelessly broken by the steady wave of men which swept them backward. General Baker’s brigade harried them whenever they tried to cling to cover in the lower watercourses, and the 92nd were driven like a wedge between them and the slopes of the ridge, smashing into their midst when they tried to rally at the two guns, and utterly breaking what little cohesion they still possessed. The first stream of the fugitives poured out from the orchards, and made for the Argandab in the direction of Kokaran, many of them falling into the hands of our cavalry; the next stream poured back into Ayub’s camp, carrying the news of the defeat, and attracting to them the escort of the guns on the Baba Wali Kotal. The last two shots fired by these guns were in the direction of Karez Hill; the first, pitched three hundred yards short of where General Roberts was sitting on the crest of the ridge, did not burst, while the second went whizzing overhead far into the gardens beyond. The screw-guns of 6-8 battery fired a few parting rounds at the fugitives making for Mazra, and then Macpherson halted his brigade and formed up his regiments at the foot of the northern slope of the Pir Paimal Ridge. General Baker had called a halt some time before, any serious firing directed against his fighting line having ceased when the orchards had been cleared, and the line had swung round to make the turning movement round the ridge. Nearly all the enemy, so far dealt with, had been irregulars, and the bayonet charge of the 72nd had checked whatever latent ghazi-ism there might be among them. During the halt the fighting line of the 2nd Brigade was reformed as follows:—5th Ghoorkas on the left, 3rd Sikhs in centre, and 2nd Beluchis on the right. The 72nd and 2nd Sikhs, with Swinley’s Mountain Battery, were in rear, replenishing their ammunition pouches. In this new order the 2nd Brigade advanced at about 11·45, and as they came into the open between the two ridges, a half battalion of the 3rd Sikhs, under Colonel Money, moved off to the left to hold the point of the northern hill overlooking the Argandab River. The three guns and the twenty or thirty deserted tents in the advanced camp at the foot of this hill fell into the hands of Colonel Money, whose later movements I will refer to presently. The rest of the brigade changed direction to the right, and marched up the basin, the 72nd taking the place of the 5th Ghoorkas in the first line. Only stray shots were fired by ghazis, who had perched themselves on the hills. The action was really at an end. General Ross had joined the advanced infantry brigades, and General Roberts was also coming round the ridge with General Macgregor’s reserve brigade. A spur running down from the hill on the left flank of the Pir Paimal basin hid Mazra from view; but as the leading troops of General Baker’s Brigade passed over this spur, they saw a mile before them Ayub’s chief camp, with all the tents standing in regular rows. Fugitives were rushing out of the camp, and 200 or 300 cavalry were moving off among the trees beyond. The 72nd Highlanders and 2nd Beluchis reached the camp a little before one o’clock, the 3rd Sikhs (half battalion) close at their heels, while General Macpherson also moved his brigade leisurely forward in the same direction. The 72nd advanced a mile beyond Mazra village, and fired dropping shots at such runaways as were still within range. But the powers of flight of an Afghan are marvellous, and as no cavalry were at hand most of the enemy made good their escape. Colonel Money, with his half battalion of 3rd Sikhs, had found that beyond the point he was sent to occupy was another hill, giving a more commanding position. He pushed on with some 150 men to this point, and to his surprise looked straight down over the village of Baba Wali into Mazra and the enemy’s camp. At that time it was packed with men, and he sent back word to General Baker asking for reinforcements, as he could not venture upon an attack with his handful of Sikhs. It was too late for any regiments to be re-directed, and Colonel Money had to watch with much chagrin the flight of the Afghans led by a large number of cavalry, probably Kizilbashes. However, he came upon five guns, including a 24-pounder howitzer, placed on the slopes of the hill near Baba Wali village, so that his half battalion held eight pieces in their possession. When General Roberts and his Staff rode through Mazra in advance of Macgregor’s Brigade the rout of Ayub’s army was complete, and nothing remained but the cavalry pursuit. In four hours our force had scattered the hitherto victorious Afghan army, driving them from a position they had chosen deliberately, and with a full knowledge of our strength, and capturing their camp as it stood, as well as thirty-one guns and two of our own Horse Artillery 9-pounders. No more brilliant ending of the rapid march from Cabul could have been wished, and the vindication of our military prestige is now full and complete. Lieutenant Maclaine was found to have been murdered by his guards, and this incident has embittered every man’s hatred of the Afghans. That the Afghans did not anticipate defeat is proved by the appearance of their camp; not a tent was struck, not a saddle-bag carried away; all the rude equipage of a half-barbarous army was left at our mercy—the meat in the cooking pots, the bread half-kneaded in the earthen vessels, the bazaar with its ghee-pots, dried fruits, flour and corn—just as it had been deserted when the noise of battle rolled up from Pir Paimal.
But to describe these matters more in detail: When our troops found themselves in rear of the Baba Wali Kotal with the enemy’s deserted camp lying before them, all opposition was at an end, and our work was to collect the guns which had been abandoned on our approach, and to examine the[the] contents of Ayub’s tents. I had lingered to discuss the fight with Captain Darvall, in command of a company of the 92nd Highlanders, guarding the guns White had captured, so that the 1st and 2nd Brigades had passed on when I rode up the road to Mazra. General Macgregor was following with the 3rd Brigade; but by this time we all knew that the stories furnished by our spies, relating to an entrenched camp and a defensive position, arranged on the principles of European engineering, were fables. The 3rd Brigade were balked of their fight—for the 60th Rifles and the regiments brigaded with them were to have assisted in the final attack upon Mazra, if Ayub had taken up a second position. Scattered on the open stony road and on the hill slopes were bodies of men killed by our volleys when the Afghan retreat began. There seemed few dead men, but the nullahs and watercourses could have told their own story; for within their sheltering banks were lying clusters of white-clad peasants who had been foremost in the ranks all day. If the cowardly regulars in Ayub’s army had fought side by side with these men, our losses must have been much heavier; but they left the ghazi-led mob to bear the brunt of the attack, and took to flight when the Pir Paimal Ridge was turned. The most desperate spirits seemed to have been killed, for in the pouches of several men whose rude waistbelts I examined there was not a single cartridge left. The rifles of such as were armed with Martinis, Sniders, or Enfields, were taken by our soldiers as trophies; while matchlocks or jhezails were broken to pieces and cast away. One man killed was completely equipped in the uniform of the 66th Regiment, and had with him a Martini rifle and bayonet. A number of men, trying to preserve some form of order in their retirement, were clad in khaki, and at a distance were actually mistaken by one of our own officers for the 23rd Pioneers. As they got out of range very quickly we could not secure one of their number as a specimen. Of the 50 or 100 bodies which I myself passed at close quarters, I only saw some three or four men in what might be called uniform. These had on dark-coloured jackets, and turbans, surmounted by small yellow pompons, such as were worn long ago in European armies. There were also men shot down with stray portions of Indian uniform upon them, but they were plainly peasants or villagers who had joined Ayub after his great success. It is said that Maiwand was won for him by ghazis, or by a mob of rudely-armed ryots led by those fanatics; and one certainly saw much to confirm the idea that the strength of an Afghan army lies in its irregulars. The defenders of the Mullah Sahibdad village, the men who tried to “rush” the advanced companies of the 72nd in the orchards, the mass which finally was broken up by the 92nd at the two guns—all these were white-clothed peasants, each fighting for his own band, and fighting right well too. They were seen to kneel down, take deliberate aim at our ranks, and fire without any sign of hurry: having fired they rose to their feet, retiring at a walk and re-loading their muzzle-loaders coolly and calmly. It was these undrilled units in Ayub’s force who gave us most trouble, and who were killed as they fell back before our steady advance.
The bodies of the enemy’s killed ceased almost entirely as soon as the spur running out from the northern hill above the Baba Wali village on our left was passed. This spur had sheltered them from our bullets, and the shrapnel from our 40-pounders would scarcely reach them beyond it. The road to the Mazra camp, from this spur, was at first strewn with the accoutrements which the Afghans had thrown away in their flight. Thus packets of Martini and Snider cartridges were come upon, with stray powder-flasks and ball-bags, the flight having become a rout as our brigades pushed up the Pir Paimal basin. A few hundred yards nearer the camp were the guns which had been withdrawn from the basin itself. They had been left by the artillerymen just as they had come out of action: here and there a bag of powder lay near the muzzle, as if a gunner more stanch than his fellows had tried to load his piece for a farewell shot; while the caissons were full of live shell. The traces lay stretched out along the road where they had been dropped when the horses were taken out, and we could imagine the gunners mounting and riding off before our cavalry pursuit began. We were delighted to see one of our own Horse Artillery guns standing on the road none the worse for its captivity, and word was sent back for a team to remove it to the rear. The other 9-pounder lost at Maiwand was, as conjectured, in position on the Baba Wali Kotal. More accoutrements and packets of ammunition were found scattered near the first line of tents, and once within the camp we could see how hasty had been the flight, and how little the enemy had expected a crushing reverse in a few hours. Our reconnaissance of the 31st seems to have been fatal to them; they looked upon it as a first success for their own arms, and had consequently made no preparations for securing an orderly retreat. Their camp was pitched in a very orderly way, the tents being arranged in streets with their front looking towards Candahar. The rows of tents stretched away fully half a mile in rear until the small village of Mazra was reached. Ayub’s tent, one of the kind in which we usually hold durbars, and large enough to have accommodated all the princes of the Barakzai family, was on the right of the camp near the canal which carries water to Candahar. A handsome carpet still covered half the floor, and when the Beluchis first entered it there were, I believe, many evidences of recent occupancy. Within a few yards of it was a small tent with a small enclosure formed by upright canvas walls—the zenana, in fact, wherein the Cabul ladies with Hashim Khan had lived. Ayub himself was said to have had only one Kizilbash concubine with him. In this tent there was a small circle of carpet round the central pole, the remainder having been cut away, probably when the order to take to flight was given. Another tent near Ayub’s had been used as a dispensary, and was full of native drugs and of the hospital stores lost by General Burrows. Some of our native doctors were busy in removing such medicines as were still of value. Poor Maclaine’s tent was forty or fifty yards away on the bank of the canal. In every one of the common tents it seemed that some ten or twelve men had been tenants, and the strength of the regular regiments must have been very considerable. Rude screens of branches and boughs of trees had also been raised about the village, no doubt by the host of irregulars swarming in the camp.
An examination of a few of the tents showed a vast amount of rubbish, in the shape of clothes, bedding, cooking vessels, horse-gear, and miscellaneous equipage, with valuable stores of English ammunition. Dried figs, grapes, melons, flour, were scattered about, and in saddle-bags and wallets were all kinds of “portable property” more or less valueless. One bag which I saw ransacked by a kahar, contained a packet of Persian books, carefully wrapped in half a dozen covers of cloth; a store of raisins and a bag of flour; a silk pugree; a change of white clothing; a bridle and stirrups; a purse with a score of copper-pieces in it; a pistol and 100 Enfield cartridges. The ammunition found in the tents must have amounted to many thousands of rounds. Each man seemed to sleep with packets of Martini and Snider cartridges at his side, while the packets made up for Enfields were in heaps in odd corners. One large tent, which had evidently served as the magazine, was filled to the roof with bags of powder and boxes of our breech-loading cartridges. How many rounds we lost on July 27th I do not know, but we have retaken large quantities, while some of our regiments filled up their pouches while in the camp. Brass helmets, kettle-drums, some of the band instruments lost by the 66th, bugles, gold and silver laced coats, were among our loot, and some boxes of Cabuli rupees were also found. But important above all were the thirty-one guns and our two Royal Horse Artillery 9-pounders: the loss of these will break Ayub’s prestige, for when he returns a fugitive to Herat the citizens’ first question will be concerning the artillery he took with him to batter down the walls of Candahar.
I returned to our camp behind Karez Hill by way of the Baba Wali Kotal, and found Ayub’s guns still in position on the platform whence they had fired upon us. He himself had viewed the capture of the village of Mullah Sahibdad from this point. Here considerable engineering skill had been shown; sloping roads had been cut, up which the guns could easily be taken, and a natural line of rocks had been well utilized as a screen for the pieces placed in position. There were no embrasures or gunpits, but the guns were placed so that having been fired over a wall of rocks 4 or 5 feet broad they might then be withdrawn a few yards below, reloaded and run up again to answer our fire. Our 40-pounders had of course made no impression upon the rock, although the shells had pitched upon the wall itself. The gunners could rest in perfect safety when not firing, as a space had been cleared below the rocks and the hill sloped sharply downwards. The narrow road over the Kotal was to the right of the guns, with rocks overhanging it on either side; it had not been interfered with, the enemy knowing that such a converging fire could be brought to bear upon it that it could scarcely be forced. There was a higher position above where the 9-pounders and the two Armstrongs were posted, and here a 7-pounder mountain gun was found. There was splendid cover for infantry lining the rocks, and this had been improved wherever practicable. So strong indeed had the Kotal been made, and so clear of all obstacles was the slope below—a natural glacis—that to have attacked in this direction would have been to court heavy loss, if not a disastrous repulse.
Two sad incidents marred the success of the day: the death of Captain Straton and the murder of Lieutenant Maclaine, who had been a prisoner in Ayub’s hands since the eventful 27th of July. Colonel Brownlow and Captain Frome died gallantly in action, and though we sorrow for the loss of these brave men, there is the consolation that they were at the head of their regiments and in the fore-front of the battle. But Captain Straton’s death occurred at a moment when all seemed over, when we had but to count our losses and collect our spoils. When General Ross had joined Macpherson’s Brigade, halted in rear of the Pir Paimal Ridge, the shells from our 40-pounders were still coming over the Baba Wali Kotal, endangering the safety of any troops pushing on towards Mazra. It was, of course, all-important to stop this shelling of the Kotal, now virtually in our hands, and the easiest way was to send a party of signallers up the hillside to the right of the Kotal, whence the news of our rapid success could be flashed down below. Captain Straton with two mounted signallers was with the brigade, and he was ordered to establish a station on the ridge above. But as there were a few ghazis lingering about, two companies of the 24th P.N.I. were told off to skirmish well in front of him, and clear the ground. Before they could move off, Captain Straton, a man with no sense of personal danger, rode slowly up the slope with his two signallers. He had not gone more than 50 or 60 yards from Generals Ross and Macpherson when a shot was heard, and Captain Straton fell from his horse. A dark figure was then seen to rise from a dip in the ground, fix a bayonet on his rifle and rush forward. The two signallers, men of the 72nd Highlanders, had dismounted by this time, and they fired at 40 yards’ distance, bringing the Afghan down. His bayonet had passed through Captain Straton’s coat, but had not touched the body. The man was bayonetted as he tried to rise. It was discovered that he had already been severely wounded, and could not have hoped to escape; he was not clad in the orthodox white of a true ghazi, but had on a sort of blue uniform, which seemed to indicate that he was a regular soldier, whose fanaticism had prompted him to shoot the first officer who passed him. The bullet from his rifle had passed through Straton’s heart. The decease of Captain Straton is a great loss to the force; the perfect way in which he had controlled the signalling was universally recognized. He never spared himself when hard work had to be done, and the soldiers under him shared his enthusiasm. General Roberts always relied implicitly on him, both on the march and in action, for he knew that if it were possible for heliographing to be done Captain Straton would have his men in position and his instruments at work. The 22nd Regiment have lost as good a soldier as ever wore sword, and there is a gap in Sir Frederick Roberts’s Staff which he will find hard to fill. The second incident is yet again on different lines, for the murder of Lieutenant Maclaine is full of horror. As Sir Frederick Roberts rode into Ayub’s camp word was brought by some native soldiers, belonging to Jacob’s Rifles and the 1st Grenadiers, who had been prisoners with Maclaine, that his body was lying near Ayub’s tent. Major Euan Smith was sent down to test the truth of the story, and found the sepoys had spoken only too truly. Poor Maclaine, with his throat cut deeply across, was lying some short distance from the tent in which he had been confined, about 40 yards from Ayub’s own tent. The story told by the sepoys is that Ayub fled at eleven o’clock with the Cabul sirdars, leaving his prisoners in charge of their guard, with no instructions beyond a verbal order that they were not to be killed. Some hour or more after this the guard rushed into the tents where Maclaine and six other prisoners were kept, and ordered them all out, as they were to be killed. One sepoy was shot through the head, and Maclaine was seized by several Afghans, who threw him down and cut his throat. He was weak and ill from sickness and bad food, and submitted to his fate without a word. Immediately upon this there was a great shout that the English were upon the camp, and the guard fled without touching the five sepoys remaining. The bitterest rage is felt against Ayub, who might, by confiding the officer to the Kizilbash cavalry, easily have ensured his safety. For the future there can be no question of treating with a prince who has thus followed the worst precedents of Afghan history. He is held responsible for Maclaine’s assassination just as much as if he had witnessed it, and our only regret is that the sirdar did not fall under the sabres of our cavalry in the pursuit. Maclaine’s body was carried into the Citadel and was buried with military honours yesterday morning.