The accounts of all the deeds of bravery amongst his brother officers made Lord William long to go and share their dangers and hardships, for he loved the “Old 9th,” as he called them. At last, unable to bear it any longer, he asked for a month’s leave. As usual on such occasions, he was tortured by the fear that it would all be over before he got there, so he made elaborate arrangements to do the journey in record time the moment his leave was granted. Booted and spurred, he paced up and down his rooms until the joyful news that his leave was granted was brought to him. He jumped on to a waiting horse and galloped away for Umballa. Fresh ponies were waiting for him at different stages of the journey, which enabled him to catch a train that took him to the rail head of the expeditionary force. Without waiting for food or sleep, he began riding again; here fresh ponies were in readiness for him, and he arrived among his war-worn brother officers scarcely less travel-stained than themselves, after riding day and night for five days, only broken by the train journey. He was in time to accompany Sir Sam Browne, V.C., up the snow-covered Khyber Pass, which he regarded as a refreshing holiday. I give a little sketch sent to me at this time by another friend enjoying the same holiday, which will give a little idea of its pleasures. The Sir Sam Browne mentioned above was destined to be immortalised by the now famous Sam Browne belt. It was the child of the gallant General’s imagination, and first worn on active service during this campaign. Whatever its merits have now been proved to be, it was greeted with contumely and caustic comments by the army, as is customary with all new inventions, but like the Brodrick cap, it has weathered countless storms. I remember men used to speak of it with suppressed passion as “the Christmas tree arrangement.” I do not know why, unless on account of the things supposed to be hung on it.
Soon after Lord William joined him, Sir Sam Browne decided to storm the Citadel of Ali Musjid from the right-hand side of a rocky ridge of some height. General Appleyard at the same time was to lead his brigade up the left side, along a precipitous path, little more than a goat track. Between these two brigades was a deep gorge with rushing water at the bottom. The air was alive with bursting shells fired from the Citadel. The Afghans were engaged in shelling the ridge from end to end, which made it, according to Lord William, “lively.” Shells were even bursting among the advancing columns.
When nearing the Citadel, Sir Sam Browne wished to communicate with General Appleyard on the opposite ridge. Here was Lord William’s chance. He at once volunteered, and General Browne accepted his offer, instructing him to reach General Appleyard as quickly as possible, but to make a detour of the valley to lessen the risk.
“All right, sir,” replied Lord William, who had no intention of making a detour at all. Dismounting, he gave his horse to someone to hold, scrambled down the precipice, and was out of sight in a moment, hidden by the flying earth and smoke from the bursting shells. Reaching the bottom safely, he sat down and took off his boots, partly wading, partly jumping, from rock to rock, arriving safely at the other side. Here he again sat down and lighted a cigarette before putting on his boots and scrambling up the hill, where he delivered his message. He was as calm and collected as when out partridge shooting, in fact calmer than he was sometimes on those occasions, but always with the same fire burning in his keen eyes.
By the middle of December, 1878, General Sir Sam Browne’s column was in occupation of the Musjid, after climbing that stern, sulky-looking Khyber Pass. Lord William’s leave being up, and feeling how good it had been of Lord Lytton to let him go, he hurriedly ate his Christmas dinner with the Headquarters Staff and started on his way back, meeting with some excitement on the way down, as the Afghan hillmen potted at him most of the time from their hiding-places in the mountains.
A month was not long in which to journey to the Khyber Pass, take part in the storming and capture of Ali Musjid, and then return to Calcutta, but proves the old saying that “Where there is a will there is a way.”
Lord William received a medal and clasp and was mentioned in despatches for his share in this campaign.
I do not think a man less brave because he loves doing daring and dangerous things. Certainly he appeals to the imagination no less, though, I suppose, in the last analysis, it is the man who is afraid in his heart, yet does a brave thing by force of will over body, who is the most truly brave.