The desire to build a new Kabul is not surprising when one has seen the present city. The first thing that strikes you on entering it is the general look of dilapidation and dirtiness. Closer acquaintance shows you how inexpressibly unclean and unhealthy an ancient Oriental city can become.
We rode through the narrow badly-paved streets, and through the bazaars, which were crowded with turbanned Afghans and Hindus robed in bright colours. They moved out of the way of our rather large cavalcade, but very few showed any appearance of curiosity; and we rode on to the garden or orchard in the gorge between the Shere Derwaza and Asmai mountains, where, by the side of the Kabul river, the Amîr’s European Arm foundry has been established. This is protected on one side by the river, on the three other sides by high walls.
Arrival at the Arm Foundry.
The entrance was through a large double wooden gate, where some soldiers were on guard. Inside there were built along the walls a series of rooms where tin workers, brass workers, and others practised their handicraft. In one of the larger of these rooms Mr. Pyne and myself were located, and an adjoining one was prepared for the two English engineers, Messrs. Stewart and Myddleton, who had accompanied us.
In the centre of the ground three or four large buildings were in course of erection. These had been commenced by Mr. Pyne during his first short visit to Kabul. The walls were nearly completed. To finish them were the corrugated iron roofs which Mr. Pyne had brought out from England, and the machinery, some of which was lying around packed in cases in two hundredweight pieces: the rest arrived on strings of camels a few days or weeks after we did.
In our room we found a large table loaded with sweets, cakes, kaimaghchai, or cream and tea, and various other eatables. We set to, but were presently visited and salaamed by some score or so of Hindustani mistris, whom Mr. Pyne had engaged and sent on from India. There was a very fair carpet on the earth-beaten floor. Our beds, bedding, and chairs we had brought with us. A soldier was posted on guard at our door and another on the roof.
In the space inside the enclosure unoccupied by buildings, there grew a great many mulberry trees, and outside the walls were large beds of flowers, vines trailed over upright poles, and a fountain. This plot of ground had once been the garden of a wealthy Afghan gentleman.
On the day after our arrival in Kabul it rained hard, but on the following day we received a ceremonial visit from Jan Mahomed Khan, the treasury officer, who was accompanied by a large retinue of servants. This gentleman was of medium height and slightly built. He had a rather dark skin, but a very pleasant face, and was charming in his manner. His costume was brilliant. It consisted of a black astrakhan hat of the globular Russian shape, a purple velvet tunic embroidered with gold, a belt and sword, both highly ornamented with beaten gold, trousers and patent leather boots. The sword was not of the European shape. It was made with a slight curve, had no hand guard, and slipped almost entirely into the scabbard. Mr. Pyne was acquainted with this gentleman, having met him during his first visit to Kabul. I, therefore, was introduced. After the usual compliments and polite speeches, it was intimated to us that Prince Habibullah, the eldest son of the Amîr, would receive us at the Palace that day.
We learnt that His Highness the Amîr himself was away in Turkestan, where he had been fighting his rebellious cousin Ishak.
The Approach to the Palace.