FOOTNOTES:

FOOTNOTES:[57]Now General Sir Charles Keyes, G.C.B.[58]Now General Sir Charles Brownlow, G.C.B.[59]Now General Salisbury, C.B.[60]The following officers were killed: Lieutenant Gillies, R.A., Captains C. Smith and Aldridge, and Ensign C. Murray, 71st Highland Light Infantry; Lieutenants Dougal and Jones, 79th Highlanders (doing duty with 71st); Lieutenant H. Chapman, Ensign A. Sanderson, and Surgeon Pile, 101st Bengal Fusiliers; Lieutenant J. Davidson, 1st Punjab Infantry; Lieutenant Clifford, 3rd Punjab Infantry; Lieutenant W. Moseley, 14th Ferozepore Regiment; Lieutenant Richmond, 20th Native Infantry, and Major G. Harding, Bombay Staff Corps.

[57]Now General Sir Charles Keyes, G.C.B.

[58]Now General Sir Charles Brownlow, G.C.B.

[59]Now General Salisbury, C.B.

[60]The following officers were killed: Lieutenant Gillies, R.A., Captains C. Smith and Aldridge, and Ensign C. Murray, 71st Highland Light Infantry; Lieutenants Dougal and Jones, 79th Highlanders (doing duty with 71st); Lieutenant H. Chapman, Ensign A. Sanderson, and Surgeon Pile, 101st Bengal Fusiliers; Lieutenant J. Davidson, 1st Punjab Infantry; Lieutenant Clifford, 3rd Punjab Infantry; Lieutenant W. Moseley, 14th Ferozepore Regiment; Lieutenant Richmond, 20th Native Infantry, and Major G. Harding, Bombay Staff Corps.

POLITICAL COMPLICATIONS—END OF THE WAR

The preceding remarks will be sufficient to give a general idea of the difficulties, both military and political, which had ensued on our crossing the border. The situation was undoubtedly grave. Major James, the commissioner, wrote, that it was a truly formidable and dangerous combination, and that immediate action was necessary to save the Government from a war involving us not only with all the tribes on the border, but also in all probability with Afghanistan. The Lieutenant-Governor of the Punjab, Sir Robert Montgomery, had doubtless long and anxiously considered the untoward aspect of affairs; and at length, when the telegrams arrived announcing the severe actions just described, he looked upon the matter as so serious, that he was actually prepared to order an immediate withdrawal of the whole force to the plains; and in this view he was supported by some members of the Viceroy's Council; in fact an order to that effect was sent to the Commander-in-Chief. What Sir Hugh Rosethought of the proposition is plain enough. In the first place he remonstrated against the withdrawal, pointing out the danger of such a policy and the loss of prestige which would result. In the next he ordered large reinforcements to proceed by forced marches to the frontier, so that the great northern road from Lahore to Peshawur was crowded with cavalry, artillery, and infantry, all hurrying upwards. At the beginning of December there were five-and-twenty thousand men north of the Jhelum.

Soon after my arrival at Lahore in November, I had written to my old friend Sir William Denison at Madras, giving him a short description of the state of affairs.[61]On November 20 Lord Elgin died, and Sir William, as the senior governor present in India, was summoned by telegraph to Calcutta, and assumed temporarily the functions of Viceroy. His reply to my letter is dated Calcutta, December 7, and is interesting as giving his views on the situation.

It is as follows:—

'My dear Adye,—Thanks for your letter. I got the whole of the papers relating to the business in the North-west on my way up the river, and spent my time in reading them and making notes. It is hardly worth while to say anything about the commencement of the affair beyond this, that if anymove was to have been made at all, the plan proposed by Sir H. Rose was clearly that which should have been adopted. With reference, however, to the future, I trust I have been in time to check further evil.... I found an order had been sent to the Commander-in-Chief, telling him that their wish was that the force should be withdrawn, thrusting upon the Commander-in-Chief the responsibility of deciding not only the mode of doing this, and the time, but also that of determining whether such a move would peril our reputation. The first step I took was to press for a modification of the order. I pointed out that it was unfair to the Commander-in-Chief; and that, as we had a sufficient force, it would be decidedly impolitic to withdraw, until we had accomplished the design for which we had made our inroad into the country. After a good deal of talk, I carried with me the majority of the council, and it was decided to bring the Bonairs to terms before withdrawing the troops. To leave without doing this would almost insure another campaign in the spring, and this would be expensive and useless. I trust that our orders may arrive in time to prevent any hasty move to the rear.'[62]

attock

GOING TO THE WAR. CROSSING THE INDUS AT ATTOCK, NOVEMBER 1863

Many days, however, before I received Sir William'sletter, circumstances had occurred at Lahore which led to my making a long and rapid journey of several hundred miles northwards, and joining the force in the mountains during the remainder of the war.

On November 19 Sir Hugh spoke to me of his difficulties and of the suggested retreat, which seemed both impolitic and unnecessary. The letters and telegrams received from the front were, however, necessarily somewhat short and hasty, and did not give full details of the position; and I offered my services as a staff officer, to pay a rapid visit to Chamberlain, hear his views, take a personal survey of the country, and then return. The Commander-in-Chief accepted my offer, and also selected Major Roberts,[63]who knew the people and the language, to accompany me. He was a delightful companion. On the evening of the 20th we left Lahore on the mail cart, placing the driver behind, and ourselves driving each stage alternately. We galloped up the trunk road all night, and all the next day, crossing the Ravee, the Chenab, and the Jhelum, and were nearly done up from want of sleep, when we fortunately drove into the camp of a battery of Horse Artillery and obtained a few hours' rest. Before daylight we were off again, passed through Rawul-Pindee, and in the afternoon crossed the Indus by a bridge of boats close under the old Mogul fortress of Attock; and atsunset on the second day our long drive of nearly 300 miles came to an end at Nowshera, on the Cabul river, where the officers of a battery under Captain Nairne, R.A.,[64]hospitably received us. Until our arrival at Nowshera, we had not heard of the latest fight at the Crag Picket, and that Chamberlain and Hope were severely wounded. In the meantime horses had been laid out for our use across the plains of Eusofzye; and, crossing the Cabul river, we galloped about thirty miles, passing numerous detachments of Seiks and Pathans, with elephants and camels, and on the evening of November 23 reached the camp of Major Probyn,[65]in command of a native cavalry regiment at the foot of the mountains. The weather was fine but cold, and altogether the long journey was very enjoyable.

Sir Neville Chamberlain's force was about ten miles distant on the heights of the Mahabun, whose ridges run up to 8,000 feet. Our instructions were urgent, and we were very anxious to be off. Probyn, however, whose troops were patrolling the frontier, pointed out that the communications were uncertain, and that the road, such as it was, was only opened occasionally by armed convoys taking up food and munitions to the front. However, as delay was unadvisable, after considering the matter, he said:'You can, if you like, go up with the "catch-em-alive-ohs."' I inquired who these interesting people were, and his reply was that they were Afghans—in fact, the same people we were fighting against; but he added that these were friendly and in our pay, and would take care of us. He had them paraded for our inspection. These 'catch-em-alive-ohs' were a rough, handsome, picturesque lot of fellows, armed with old matchlocks, shields, and short knives, and seemed very good-natured and friendly; so, in default of better, we determined on accepting their escort, and away we went, accompanied by the Reverend Mr. Cowie, afterwards Bishop of New Zealand. The mountain was steep and rugged, and the route a mere goat path, so that our progress was slow. After climbing for some miles, we suddenly observed a large number of people on a high, distant ridge, but whether friends or enemies was not so certain. The body of a native just killed was lying in the path. At that moment a messenger ran up bringing me a small note in pencil, and reading it hastily I made it out to be 'the road isnowsafe, push on as fast as you can.' This was satisfactory, but on looking more carefully we found the message really was, 'the road isnotsafe, push on,' &c. This rather altered the conditions; but fortunately the men we had observed on the heights were a party of Goorkas, and the note was from the officer in command, whowas looking out for us, so that our journey soon came to an end, and we arrived safely in camp.

The next morning I paid a visit to Chamberlain. We had been cadets together many years before at Woolwich, but he left the Academy before obtaining a commission, joining the Bengal army, and we had never met since those early days. His wound, however, was severe and his condition serious, so that I was unable to discuss the position of affairs with him, as had been intended, and in a few days he was carried down to the plains. I found a strong and unanimous feeling amongst the officers against any withdrawal. Although the tribes were in great force in the valley, with their standards flying, it was evident that we only required reinforcements; and that a movement in advance would soon scatter the brave but badly armed, undisciplined hosts of our mountain foes. I lost no time in sending day by day, detailed reports, sketches, and plans of the position to Sir Hugh Rose, urging also the necessity for an early forward movement, and in reply received an order by telegraph, to remain with the force until the termination of the war.

The scenery all round us from our elevated camp was very varied, and had many elements of grandeur. Looking back to the south through the dark defiles of the pass, we could see the fertile plain of Eusofzye stretching away to the Indus and Cabul rivers, whilstin front the sheltered Chumla valley and the village of Umbeylah were lying beneath us; and away in the distance to the north, high ranges of mountains, capped by the snowy peaks of the Hindoo Koosh, closed in the horizon. Owing to the success which had been achieved on several occasions by the tribes in capturing our outlying breastworks—due, perhaps, in some cases, to want of vigilance on our part—strict instructions had been given that our pickets were to hold their ground at all hazards; and on one occasion a soldier coming on duty was heard to say to his comrade, 'Well, Jim, what's the orders at this post?' and Jim replied, 'Why, the orders is, you're never to leave it till you're killed, and if you see any other man leaving it, you're to kill him.'

Our life was a very open-air kind of existence, a sort of prolonged picnic, and we lived partly in small tents and partly in caves, always sleeping in our clothes; our dinners such as they were, being cooked and laid out on the rocks. The Afghans perched themselves about, and now and then made long shots at us with their matchlocks. One old fellow took up his position every day on an elevated spot, on the other side of the pass, at a distance, and watched the proceedings. Our men frequently fired at him, but apparently without effect; so at last they gave it up, and nicknamed him 'Oh! Willie, we have missed you.' There was another peculiarity amongst the tribeswhich is, perhaps, unusual in warfare. Some of our native troops, when on isolated pickets at night, used to pass away the dreary hours by singing some of their national airs; and the enemy, apparently not wishing to be left out, would cheerily join in the chorus.

peak

AFGHAN FRONTIER CAMPAIGN. STORMING THE CONICAL PEAK, DECEMBER 1863

At the end of November General Garvock[66]arrived, taking command of the expedition; and during the next few days considerable reinforcements marched up from the plains, including amongst others the 7th Fusiliers, the 93rd Highlanders, and Probyn's Horse, 400 strong. Our total force was over 8,000 men, with 16 light guns, some carried on elephants and the rest on mules. The men of the tribes, no doubt, were quite aware of these accessions to our strength; and although Guzzhan Khan, from the distant province of Dher, had joined them with 6,000 followers, they hesitated to attack our position, which was now strongly entrenched and vigilantly guarded. Early in December a small deputation of Bonair chiefs came into camp to confer with Major James, the commissioner, with a view to peace; and after a parley withdrew to consult the other tribes as to the terms we offered; which were the destruction of Mulka, and that the fanatics should no longer be harboured and protected by the Afghans. We could hardly demand less. It was understood that there wereconsiderable dissensions amongst the native chiefs, and on the afternoon of December 14 a solitary messenger returned, stating that our proposals were rejected. It was also known that an attack by the combined tribes was imminent on the morrow.

The moment of action had at length arrived. General Garvock, forestalling the intentions of the enemy, assembled a force of 5,000 men, including the 7th and 101st Fusiliers, at daylight near the Crag picket, leaving the remainder to guard the camp, and at 8A.M.led off his troops along the ridges to the attack. About two miles beyond the Crag stood the small village of Laloo, and a few hundred yards in front of it, one of the great spurs running up from the Chumla valley, terminated in a lofty peak dominating the whole ridge. On this natural stronghold the men of the tribes had established themselves in great force, flying their standards, and prepared to abide the last issues of war. The ordinary difficulties of the ascent had been increased by numerous 'sungas' (breastworks), so that it was a formidable position to take by assault. Our skirmishers, who had easily driven in the outlying mountaineers, then halted about 600 yards in front of and looking up at the conical peak, and, supported by the mountain guns, waited for the arrival of the main body.

These mountain batteries rendered great service during the war. Their light ordnance, carriages, andammunition being all carried on mule back, they are thus independent of roads, can accompany infantry over any ground, and come into action on the most restricted space. As the several regiments came up they sought a momentary shelter in the broken ground, and when all was ready, General Garvock sounded the 'advance.' At that signal 5,000 men rose from their cover, and with loud cheers and volleys of musketry, rushed to the assault; the regiments of Pathans, Seiks, and Goorkas vieing with the English soldiers as to who should first reach the enemy. From behind every rock and shrub at the foot of the peak small parties of mountaineers jumped up, and fled as the advancing columns approached. It took but a few minutes to cross the open ground, and then the steep ascent began, our men having to climb from rock to rock, and their formation necessarily becoming much broken. Foremost among the many could be distinguished the scarlet uniforms of the 101st Fusiliers, who, led by Colonel Salisbury, steadily swarmed up the mountain and captured the defences in succession at the point of the bayonet, the enemy's standards dropping as their outworks fell; whilst here and there the prostrate figures of our men scattered about the rocks, proved that the hill-men were striking hard to the last. Nothing, however, could withstand the impetuosity of the assault, and ere many minutes had elapsed theconical peak from foot to summit was in the possession of British soldiers. I had the misfortune during the assault to fall over a large rock, seriously injuring my right knee and tearing the ligaments, becoming for the moment incapable of climbing; but by the help of a mule, lent from one of the batteries, managed to reach the crest of the mountain. Our panting troops still pushed on, captured the village of Laloo, and the mountaineers were then driven headlong in thousands, down the steep glades, through the pine forests to the Chumla valley, many hundred feet below.

This was the first general defeat the enemy had experienced, and they were not left long to recover from its effects. At daylight the next morning our troops were again in movement; one brigade marching down direct on Umbeylah, accompanied by Probyn's cavalry, who, however, had to lead their horses down the precipitous slopes until they reached the valley. In the meantime the other brigade descended from Laloo and deployed at the foot. The tribes, although at first they seemed inclined to make a stand, gradually fell back. The brigade from Laloo followed them up, passed the village of Umbeylah, and approached the hills leading to Bonair. The enemy, who had been lying concealed in the ravines and broken ground, suddenly rushed out, sword in hand, wildly attacked one of our Seik regiments, and for the momenteven penetrated its ranks. The Seiks, however, were rallied by their officers, and supported by the 7th Fusiliers, and the enemy in a few minutes were driven back with great loss. In the meantime three field guns, under Captain Griffin, R.A., which had been brought down on elephants, got into action and shelled the crowded heights, the tribes withdrawing out of range. Our losses during the two days were: one officer killed,[67]four wounded, and there were 172 casualties amongst the men. As all tents and baggage had been left on the mountain, we bivouacked for the night outside Umbeylah, which was set on fire. The weather unfortunately was wet and cold, so that lying in the open wrapped up in a blanket was not luxurious; and, to add to my discomfort, all at once I felt what seemed to be a snake crawling about my legs. Having with difficulty obtained a lighted match, I suddenly threw aside the blanket, when a huge black rat darted out, but, as I found the next morning, had eaten large holes in my only pair of trousers, so that I presented altogether a somewhat damp and dilapidated appearance. These, however, were but minor incidents in a very interesting campaign.

The effect of our vigorous movements on the 15th and 16th was immediate and decisive. The men of Bajour and Dher, who had come so far andwere so eager for war, now fled to their native fastnesses. The Akoond and his followers were no more to be seen; and the chiefs of Bonair, relieved from the presence of overbearing allies, came into camp the next day to discuss terms of peace. Under ordinary circumstances a force of sufficient strength would no doubt have been sent forward to drive away the original offenders, and to destroy their chief village—Mulka. But the Punjab Government were anxious to limit the scope of the expedition, and to withdraw from the mountains. Consequently a somewhat hazardous compromise ensued; Colonel Reynell Taylor, the commissioner, proceeding with one native regiment, about 400 strong, accompanied by an escort of the Bonairs, to burn the distant village. Roberts and myself, being anxious to visit a part of the country hitherto unexplored, joined the party. The first day's march, on December 20, was along the Chumla Valley to Kooria. We saw little of our new friends the Bonairs, but the inhabitants were civil and met our requirements as to food; the next morning we commenced our long and toilsome march up the mountain to Mulka; which proved to be a large, new, well-built village of wood, where we remained for the night. The inhabitants had all fled. The following morning the whole place was set on fire; the hill tribes of the Mahabun, armed and in large numbers, however, watching us at a distance. The native officers of our regiment represented that the tribes were greatly exasperated, and might at any moment fire off their matchlocks and make a rush at us. However, we kept well together, and as soon as the village had been destroyed, steadily marched back to the valley, and rejoined the main force under General Garvock. On Christmas day the British troops left the mountains and once more stood on the plains of Eusofzye, the Bonairs destroying the entrenchments and breaking up the roads as we marched away.

Thus ended the frontier war of 1863. Intended at the outset as a mere excursion against fanatical robbers, who had long infested the border, it speedily grew into a considerable war, the Mohammedan tribes, under the impression that their independence was in danger, combining against us. The campaign was interesting in its military aspect, in giving experience of the extreme difficulty and expense of carrying out offensive operations in a country composed of mountain ranges, devoid of communications, and inhabited by races of men whom we may consider half civilised, but who, at all events, possess the virtues of courage, independence, and love of their country, and physically are as active and handsome a people as exists anywhere. From a political point of view the north-west frontier of India is also full of interest. After a century of conquest, with dominions now extending1,600 miles from Calcutta to Peshawur, we have at length arrived at a region which seems marked out by nature as the boundary of our Empire. The conditions of the north-west frontier no doubt involve difficult considerations, but it seems to me clear that, whilst guarding against incursions, our policy towards our somewhat turbulent neighbours should be one of forbearance and conciliation, combined in some cases with subsidies.

As Sir Charles Wood, the Secretary of State for India, wrote in 1864: 'Our true course ought to be, not to interfere in their internal concerns, but to cultivate friendly relations with them, and to endeavour to convince them, by our forbearance and kindly conduct, that their wisest plan is to be on good terms with us, in order that they may derive those advantages from intercourse with us which are sure to follow from the interchange of commodities and mutual benefits.' It is a policy necessarily requiring patience and somewhat slow in its effect, but will in due time bring its reward, and indeed it has already done so of late years. Our trans-Indus districts, which were formerly harried by the neighbouring tribes, are now comparatively safe and prosperous; and many Afghans who have served in our ranks have returned to their native villages with pensions, and with a kindly feeling and remembrance of those under whom they have served. Beforeleaving this subject, it may be well to point out that there is another and a far larger question beyond that of the immediate frontier which must be kept steadily in view by the British Government, and that is our relations with the ruler of Afghanistan in connection with the advance of Russia in Central Asia. I propose, however, to defer the consideration of those important questions until a later period, when the Afghan war of 1878-9 brought matters to a crisis.

FOOTNOTES:[61]My letter was publishedin extensoinVarieties of Viceregal Life, by Sir W. Denison. 1870.[62]Sir Hugh Rose, in writing to me from Lahore on the same date as Sir William Denison (Dec. 7), said that the Governor General had entirely approved of his not consenting, although hard pressed, to give up the Umbeylah Pass and retreat to the plains.[63]Now General Lord Roberts, G.C.B.[64]Now General Nairne, C.B., Commander-in-Chief, Bombay.[65]Now General Sir Dighton Probyn, V.C.[66]The late Sir John Garvock.[67]The names of the officers were, Lieutenant Alexander killed; Major Wheeler, Captain Chamberlain, Lieutenants Nott and Marsh wounded.

[61]My letter was publishedin extensoinVarieties of Viceregal Life, by Sir W. Denison. 1870.

[62]Sir Hugh Rose, in writing to me from Lahore on the same date as Sir William Denison (Dec. 7), said that the Governor General had entirely approved of his not consenting, although hard pressed, to give up the Umbeylah Pass and retreat to the plains.

[63]Now General Lord Roberts, G.C.B.

[64]Now General Nairne, C.B., Commander-in-Chief, Bombay.

[65]Now General Sir Dighton Probyn, V.C.

[66]The late Sir John Garvock.

[67]The names of the officers were, Lieutenant Alexander killed; Major Wheeler, Captain Chamberlain, Lieutenants Nott and Marsh wounded.

VISIT TO PESHAWUR—SIR HUGH ROSE RETURNS TO ENGLAND—SIR WILLIAM MANSFIELD APPOINTED COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF

The good sense and judgment of Sir William Denison, with the cordial co-operation and support of Sir Hugh Rose, had extricated the Government of India from a somewhat dangerous military and political crisis on the north-west border; and although the fierce passions of the tribes had been considerably roused, the excitement gradually cooled down when our troops returned to the plains. One hill chief, however, had the temerity to come into the open, and make a dash at one of our patrolling columns, but was speedily driven back. I forget his exact name, but by the English soldiers he was commonly called Sawdust Khan. In the unsettled condition of the frontier, the Commander-in-Chief found it necessary to remain for some weeks at the large and important station of Peshawur, which stands half encircled by the Afghan mountains and only a few miles distant from the entrance to the celebrated Kyber Pass.Peshawur, the central military position at this part of our territory, has a large old-fashioned mud fort, containing considerable reserves of armaments, munitions, and stores. It is probably strong enough to resist the desultory attacks of Afghan tribes; but in my opinion it would be more convenient, and more prudent from a military point of view, were the chief reserves of the district withdrawn to Attock, on the other side of the Indus.

The Afghan hill-men at the time of our visit were in a very lively condition, and constantly robbing the station. The very first night that the large camp of the Commander-in-Chief was pitched on the plain outside, although guards and patrols were plentiful, they succeeded in carrying off some bullocks and two camels, and the theft of horses was not of rare occurrence. The frontier chiefs, however, were friendly to a limited extent, and on one occasion accompanied a party of us for a few miles within the rocky defiles of the Kyber, which at that time had not been visited by any Englishman for years. They made it a condition, however, that we should trust ourselves entirely to their protection, and not take any military escort; and they loyally carried out the compact. Our relations with them at the time, were, in fact, a curious mixture of friendship by day, combined with occasional brigandage on the part of their followers by night.

Towards the end of February the camp of Sir Hugh Rose and the staff marched slowly southwards through the Punjab, crossing in succession by bridges of boats, the Indus, Jhelum, and Chenab rivers to Lahore. What with the elephants, camels, horses, bullocks, sheep, and goats which, combined with hundreds of followers, form essential features of military out-of-door life in India, the camp resembled an Oriental fair and menagerie more than anything else; and, owing to the vast impedimenta considered essential, the marches did not exceed twelve miles a day.

We took the opportunity one day of visiting the sandy plain of Chilianwallah, on which in 1849 the great battle had been fought between the British army and the Seiks. The 24th Regiment specially suffered great losses on that occasion, and an officer who had been present, informed me that on the evening of the battle the bodies of thirteen officers of that regiment were laid side by side in the mess-tent, including the colonel (Pennycuick) and his son, the adjutant. The obelisk erected on the plain in memory of the conflict bears the following inscription: 'Around this tomb was fought the sanguinary battle of Chilianwallah, 13th January, 1849, between the British forces under Lord Gough, and the Seiks under Rajah Sher-Sing. On both sides did innumerable warriors pass from this life dying in mortalcombat. Honoured be the graves of these heroic soldiers! In memory of those who fell in the ranks of the Anglo-Indian Army, this monument has been raised by their surviving comrades, at whose side they perished, comrades who glory in their glory, and lament their fate.'

Having served for six years and a half continuously in India, and having obtained leave of absence, I left the camp on its arrival at Lahore, hurried to Calcutta, and embarked for England in April. As, however, many changes were still in progress, in respect both to thepersonnelandmatérielof artillery, and in the Ordnance Department in India, it was deemed expedient that I should cut short my visit home; and in October I accordingly returned to resume my duties and landed in Bombay. As regards the Ordnance Department, the fact was that, owing to the triplicate system of military administration, which had prevailed in the days of the old East India Company, the arrangements in each presidency varied; and the armaments, munitions, and stores were not identical in pattern, whilst many were old and obsolete. The depots were scattered about without much reference to strategical considerations, and were too numerous. The system was not only costly but inefficient; and, in view of the great advances of artillery science, a general reorganisation had become necessary. During my visit toEngland, I had been in communication with Sir Charles Wood, the then Secretary of State for India, on these matters.

On arrival at Bombay I had an interesting conversation with the Governor, Sir Bartle Frere, on military subjects; more especially as to whether the native troops should be thoroughly trusted and armed with the best modern weapons, or be relegated, as it were, to an inferior position, and be looked on as more or less subordinate auxiliaries. I gave my opinion that a policy of mistrust was not only a mistake, but would in reality defeat itself; that the native regiments should be armed and equipped like the English soldiers in every respect; the numbers to be maintained, and their nationalities, resting of course with the Government. It was a satisfaction to find that Sir Bartle Frere entirely concurred in these views.

Leaving Bombay, and being anxious to rejoin Sir Hugh Rose quickly, I travelled through Central India, first of all for about three hundred miles on a partly finished railway, with occasional breaks; and then for five hundred miles outside a mail-cart, passing hastily through Indore, Gwalior, Agra, and Delhi to Meerut. Although I found time to make a few hasty sketches, it has always been a matter of regret that military exigencies rendered me unable to pay more than mere flying visits to so many native cities of great historicaland architectural interest. Delhi and its neighbourhood especially is rich in picturesque mosques, tombs, palaces, and forts of the former Mogul dynasties.

On arrival at Meerut I found that Sir Hugh Rose had seriously injured himself, having broken several ribs by a fall out hunting, so that for the time our movements were at a standstill. However, early in 1865, as soon as he had recovered, the head quarters staff continued their tour, and arrived at Lucknow, where a somewhat amusing incident occurred. During the Mutiny, an officer had gained the Victoria Cross for gallant conduct in the residency, but owing to some delay had not actually received the decoration; and the Commander-in-Chief was therefore glad of the opportunity of presenting it to him on the very spot where he had gained it. A general parade was ordered, the troops to be formed up round the ruins of the residency; and all the civilians and ladies of Lucknow were invited to be present. On the morning, when the hour of parade was at hand, the staff assembled in readiness in a bungalow, and it was understood that the Commander-in-Chief was preparing an appropriate speech for the occasion. Search was then made for the box containing the Victoria Cross, but it was nowhere to be found, and after an anxious hurried inquiry we discovered that by some mistake it had been left behind at Simla inthe Himalayas. This was awkward, especially as Sir Hugh would naturally be annoyed at so unfortunate an error. The suggestion was made that some officer of the garrison should be asked to lend his for the occasion; but that also failed, no officer nearer than Cawnpore (fifty miles off) having gained one. There was no time to be lost, and at length Colonel Donald Stewart,[68]the Deputy Adjutant General, volunteered to inform the Commander-in-Chief: an offer which was at once accepted. Stewart on entering the room found Sir Hugh engaged in considering his speech, and then cautiously and gently announced that a slight mistake had occurred, and that the Victoria Cross had been left behind. The Commander-in-Chief, as anticipated, was angry, and complained that he had been treated with neglect. However, after he had cooled down, Donald Stewart said that in his opinion the difficulty could readily be got over; and, taking the cross of the Companionship of the Bath from his breast, suggested that it should be presented to the officer on parade, in lieu temporarily of the other; pointing out that the troops and the assembled company would not be near enough to distinguish the difference. Sir Hugh at once took in the situation, accepted the compromise, and acted accordingly. The decoration waspresented, the Commander-in-Chief made an appropriate speech, and the demonstration altogether was a success. My remark to the officer afterwards was that as the Queen had given him the Victoria Cross, and the Commander-in-Chief the Bath, I thought he was entitled to wear both for the future. There was a ball in the evening in honour of the occasion, and in default of a real cross he had to wear a painted leather imitation one.

In March 1866 the term of office of Sir Hugh Rose came to a close. His services in India had been of an eventful and distinguished character, not only in the field, in his celebrated march through Central India during the Mutiny, but also in military administration at a period of important changes. The position of a Commander-in-Chief in India, always a difficult one, was peculiarly so during his term of office. The extinction of a great institution such as that of the old East India Company could not be accomplished without considerable difficulty and delay; prejudices had to be overcome, and vested interests to be considered. All these circumstances must be borne in mind in judging the career of Sir Hugh Rose from 1857 to 1865. The appointment of Sir William Mansfield as his successor, an officer of long experience in the country, and of great ability as an administrator, tended to complete thework, and to produce unity of system, so essential an element of military efficiency. As he acted in concert with the Viceroy Sir John Lawrence, old prejudices and difficulties gradually disappeared, to the great advantage of the army and to the security of the Empire.

FOOTNOTES:[68]Now Field-Marshal Sir Donald Stewart, G.C.B.

[68]Now Field-Marshal Sir Donald Stewart, G.C.B.

THE WAR IN BOOTAN

During 1865 another border war occurred in India; not as usual on the north-west frontier, but with Bootan, an almost unknown country away in the far East, and north of the great river Brahmapootra. The causes were of the usual character—incessant depredations in our districts of Assam and Cooch-Behar. The territory of Bootan, with a length of about 250 miles, lies amidst the southern slopes of the highest ranges of the Himalayas, the eternal snows forming its frontier towards Thibet. It is, in fact, a country of stupendous mountains, intersected by narrow, precipitous valleys and rapid streams. The rainfall is excessive;[69]and all along its southern border, in the low grounds at the foot of the mountains, are dense forests and marshy jungles, almost impenetrable and choked with vegetation. The whole of the lower district is very unhealthy, and is the home of wild elephants, rhinoceros, and tigers—natural zoological gardens, in short, free ofcharge. The people of Bootan have little or no organised military force, and such fighting men as exist are only armed with knives, bows and arrows, and a few matchlocks; so that in a military sense they are not at all formidable. The inaccessible nature of the country is its best, and indeed almost its only, defence. The people are Chinese in type, and nominally Buddhists in religion; but, though brave and hardy, are almost entirely uncivilised, and the ruling authorities are weak and treacherous. The government of Bootan appears to be of a duplicate character; one rajah being a kind of spiritual head of the State without power, whilst another has all the power but apparently no head. The result, as might be expected, is frequent anarchy, whilst the subordinate rulers along the frontier district tyrannise over the people and plunder their neighbours at discretion. For a century past, indeed, the people, instigated by their chiefs, had incessantly committed depredations in our territories in the plains: carrying off men and women as slaves, and also elephants, buffaloes, and property of all kinds. Remonstrances had been made time out of mind, and missions sent to try and bring them to reason; but all our efforts were met by incivility, almost amounting to insult, and by evasion. The rulers of the country, no doubt, relied in a great measure on its inaccessibility; and, ignorant more or less of our power, were defiant and treacherous accordingly.

In 1864 the Government of India decided on sending a mission, under theHonourable Ashley Eden, to Poonaka, the capital. His instructions were to demand the release of all captives, and to endeavour to arrange for peaceful commercial intercourse in the future. Leaving Darjeeling in January, he crossed the river Teesta, the western boundary of Bootan; but throughout his long and difficult journey to the interior, although he succeeded in reaching Poonaka, and although the poor villagers appeared well-disposed, he was met with evasion and constant delay from those in authority; and, when he arrived at length at the capital, the conduct of the Government was so threatening and grossly insulting that he only got away with difficulty, having under compulsion signed an obnoxious treaty, which, on his return to India in April, was immediately disavowed and repudiated.

It was quite evident that, unless we were content to submit to violence and insult, the time had fully arrived for a recourse to arms. An expedition was arranged accordingly, and our troops entered Bootan from the plains in three separate, widely detached columns, of no great strength.[70]The one in the East marched a few miles up a gorge to Dewanghiri, and took it; but subsequently, on being attacked, abandoned the position, and fell back with the loss oftwo guns. The temporary defeat was, however, speedily avenged by a force under the command of the late General Tombs, of which the 55th Regiment under Colonel Hume[71]formed part, and the place was re-taken and held. The centre column also advanced into the hills and established itself at Buxa; whilst the third assaulted and captured Dalimkote, an old fort on a mountain ridge in the western ranges, and about 5,000 feet above the sea.

Dalimkote, a few miles from the plains, was only formidable owing to its almost inaccessible position; and our troops engaged in its capture had to climb the steep sides of the mountain, by tortuous and narrow paths, and through thick jungles. In fact, the whole neighbourhood was a mass of dense forest and luxurious undergrowth. The officers and men of a battery of artillery had managed with difficulty to carry a small mortar up the hill-side with a view to a short bombardment, preceding assault. Hardly had it been brought into action near the entrance gate than by some unfortunate accident a barrel of gunpowder exploded, killing Captain Griffin, R.A.,[72]both his lieutenants, and six gunners, besides wounding several others. The small garrison, however, did not wait for an assault, but bolted, and the fort fell into our hands.

Our columns had not penetrated for any great distance into the country,still the occupation of three important passes not only prevented the Booteas from plundering, but also put a stop to their commerce, which, though comparatively trifling in amount, proved a great blow to these isolated mountaineers; so that, after many attempts at evasion, towards the end of 1865 they were prepared to come to terms. Being desirous of visiting a part of the country so little known, and of so much interest at the time, I left Calcutta in January, made a rapid journey of about 400 miles due north to Darjeeling, and from that hill station started on an expedition for a fortnight along the Bootan frontier, returning by a voyage down the river Brahmapootra. The first part of the journey from Calcutta to the Ganges was by rail; and having crossed the river to Caragola, I was then carried by coolies in a palanquin, a sort of elongated bandbox, for 120 miles to the foot of the mountains, not meeting a single Englishman during the journey. The country was perfectly flat, and at night a native walked in front with a lighted torch, in order, so it was stated, to scare away the tigers. The coolies as they carried me along sometimes broke out into a low monotonous chant, occasionally varied by a dismal moaning chorus. I tried to ascertain the burden of their song, and found that it was myself, and that the coolie refrain wassomewhat as follows: 'This is a heavy man. Oh! what a fat man,' and so on. Colonel Bourchier, R.A.,[73]joined me in the 'Terai,' a narrow belt of marshy forest lying at the foot of the slopes; and then, on a couple of mules, we ascended the Himalayas to Darjeeling. Not being encumbered with any baggage to speak of, our arrangements for the expedition were simple. Leaving Darjeeling, we rode due East for about twenty miles, and by a gradual descent reached the banks of the Teesta, a rapid river about 100 yards wide, remaining for the night in the hut of a young officer who, with a picket of native troops, was in charge of this corner of the frontier. The scenery was charming, and we met occasional parties of Booteas carrying fruit to the Darjeeling market.

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SKETCH MAP TO ILLUSTRATE TOUR IN BOOTAN, JANUARY 1866

The passage across the Teesta was by means of a cane bridge; and, considering that the inhabitants are ignorant and uncivilised, was a wonderful specimen of ingenuity and skill. These bridges, of which there are several in different parts of the country, are on the suspension principle, and made entirely of bamboo canes fastened together. There is not a nail or a single piece of rope used in the whole construction. They swing about in an uneasy way in passing over them; and as the canes soon become rotten, the whole structure gradually perishes and falls into the river, and has to be renewed. Indeed, as I understood,they require re-building annually. Our mules were pushed into the rapid torrent and pulled across by a long line, also made of flexible bamboos and devoid of string. Altogether it was a curious experience; and we felt much sympathy for the young officer who had to pass months on guard in this secluded valley, without a fellow-countryman to speak to. After crossing the Teesta, we entered Bootan territory, began a long ascent, and at the top of a mountain found another officer with a picket in a solitary stockaded fort. The scenery all round was magnificent. Dense forests filled the deep valleys, and far away to the north stood the snowy crest of Kinchinjunga, 28,000 feet high, standing out clear in the horizon.

Proceeding along over the mountains, we passed an old monastery at Tasigimpoo, and in the evening reached a deserted Bootea stockade, where we remained for the night. The country seemed to be thinly inhabited, but the few people we met were good-natured and friendly. I had been warned not to sleep in the jungle, as we should be devoured by leeches; so, what with possible tigers on the one hand, and hungry leeches on the other, caution was necessary. However, I escaped, except that on one occasion a superfluous leech—not a tiger—attacked my leg during the night. Otherwise all went well, and the following evening, passing through glades ofoak, we came in sight of the picturesque old walled fort of Dalimkote, overlooking the plains of Bengal, and surrounded with feathery woods of bamboo.

Although the war was supposed to be virtually at an end, I had been informed by Sir John Lawrence before leaving Calcutta that their chief warrior Tongso Penlow was still at large and defiant, and sure enough on arrival at Dalimkote it was found impossible to advance further into the country. Consequently, in order to reach the next column at Buxa we were compelled to return to the plains, and after a ride of fifty miles reached Julpigoree on the Teesta. During the night horses were placed along the road eastwards to Cooch Behar; and, sending on our baggage with a native servant on an elephant, we started early the following morning, galloped for sixty miles over the plains, and, crossing several rivers on rafts, reached Cooch Behar in the afternoon. There was no time to spare, so after a few hours' rest we turned our faces again northwards, and after another long ride reached the centre column at Buxa. The hostility of Tongso Penlow had thus compelled us to make a detour of about 150 miles; but leaving Buxa, pushing on over the mountains, and then down to the deep secluded valley of the Chin-chu, we at length reached our most advanced post at the small village of Tapsee, and were rewarded by a view of themagnificent scenery of a country hitherto unknown and unexplored. Our pioneers had for some months past been engaged in constructing a road towards the interior, cutting through forests, blowing up rocks, and constructing temporary bridges over precipitous gorges and mountain torrents. We were, in short, advancing steadily through a remarkable and very difficult country towards Poonaka; and the perception of this fact no doubt compelled the Bootan Government at length to sue for peace, and caused even the warlike Tongso to cease his opposition. Hurrying back by forced marches, I took leave of Colonel Bourchier at Cooch Behar; and then finally, after a long solitary gallop, reached Dobree, on the Brahmapootra, just in time to get on board a steamer on its return voyage. Although several hundred miles from its mouth, the river at Dobree resembled a great inland sea. Its navigation, owing to numerous sandbanks, is somewhat dangerous, so that we could only move during daylight, passing numerous picturesque native boats and occasional alligators, lying like logs of grey wood along its banks. After a few days we arrived at Kooshtea, near the junction of the Ganges and Brahmapootra, and then reached Calcutta by railway. The expedition was hurriedly carried out; still it was most interesting in its variety, and in giving a glimpse, at all events, of a country so peculiar and hitherto so little known.

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WAR IN BOOTAN, 1866. OUTPOST IN VALLEY OF THE CHINCHU

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