CHAPTER IV.

Officers Killed.

Lieutenant-Colonel Brownlow, commanding 72nd Highlanders.

Captain Frome, 72nd Highlanders.

Captain Straton, 2-22nd Foot, Superintendent Army Signalling

Officers Wounded.

Captain Murray, 72nd Highlanders.

Lieutenant and Adjutant Munro, 72nd Highlanders.

Lieutenant Menzies, 92nd Highlanders.

Lieutenant Stewart, 92nd Highlanders.

Major Willock, 3rd Bengal Cavalry.

Lieutenant Baker, 3rd Punjab Cavalry.

Lieutenant Chamberlain, Central India Horse.

Lieutenant-Colonel Battye, commanding 2nd Ghoorkas.

Lieutenant-Colonel Rowcroft, commanding 4th Ghoorkas.

Major Slater, 2nd Sikhs.

Lieutenant Chesney, 23rd Pioneers.

The wounds of the last eight officers are not severe.

The death of Colonel Brownlow is a terrible loss to the 72nd Highlanders, and indeed to the army generally. Brave to a fault, he was a model of coolness under fire, and always handled his men with judgment and decision. He was marked for future distinction, his tried ability in the field raising him far above his peers. His untimely death will be felt most keenly by his own officers and men, to whom he had greatly endeared himself.

CHAPTER IV.

Candahar during the Siege—Improvement of the Defences—Sketch Map showing the Disposition of the Garrison—The Attitude of the Enemy—Their Plan of Attack—Deb-i-Khwaja Village occupied in force by the Afghans—The Sortie of August 16th—Determined Defence of the Village—Retirement of the Troops—Death of General Brooke—The Sortie falsely called a “Success”—Description of the Afghan Siege Works—Engineering Skill shown by the Naib Hafizulla Parallels—The Training of Guns upon the Shikarpur Gate—The Afghan Karez Trenches on the South—Attempt to form Breaching Batteries—Explanation of the Engineering Skill shown.

Candahar Cantonments,9th September, 1880.

Sir Frederick Roberts’s troops were so soon pushed into action after their arrival at Candahar, that the state of the city on the 31st August and the evidence the enemy had left behind of their late uncomfortable closeness to the walls, have been partly forgotten by many of us. When we rode up on the morning of the 31st there was indeed every sign, both within and without the walls, that an enemy had been at the gate. Candahar rises out of the plain quite abruptly; its walls, with their tower-like bastions, obtruding themselves upon one’s notice in rather an unsympathetic way. They shut out from view everything that lies within them, except the tomb of Ahmed Shah and the tower of observation in the citadel. No point of 'vantage enables one to examine what the walls may hide; not until the gates are passed does the character of the city disclose itself. It has been too often described for me to venture to sketch its two broad roads bisecting each other at right angles near the centre of the city; its citadel guarded by a deep ditch; its high walls of a breadth sufficient to make breaching a work of great difficulty even to heavy artillery, and its narrow gates, guarded each by flanking towers which stand out on either hand of the doorway as if the mud-work of the walls had been cut through and folded back to admit of entrance being given. It will be sufficient to say that the defences had been strengthened during the siege by such contrivances as are usually employed to check assaults uponwalled towns, and that the gaps and breaks in the bastions and parapet had been filled in with sand-bags, which still remain in all the rough-and-ready state in which they were hastily piled up. On August 31st our first view of Candahar was from near Deh-i-Khwaja, the village against which the sortie of the 16th had been directed. We did not, however, enter by the Cabul Gate, on the eastern face, but by the Shikarpur Gate, facing southwards. It was here that the outer defences had been made strongest, as the enemy’s attack in force was expected from the group of villages lying to the south and south-west, some of the walled vineyards and gardens of which were within 300 yards of the south-west bastion, and less than a mile from the Shikarpur Gate itself. The temporary bazaar outside this gate, established for the benefit of our force marching in from Momand, was formed amidst theabattis, wire entanglements,chevaux-de-frise, and broken-down walls which cumbered the ground and would have impeded the rush of an attacking force. The bastions and parapet bristled with sand-bags, over which the sentries on guard looked down, no doubt with hearty relief as our troops drew up and piled arms preparatory to breakfast. And yet there was no enthusiasm shown at our approach; not a band turned out to play us in, not a cheer was raised to welcome us. Perhaps we had been so near for the last few days that the novelty of being released from a dangerous situation had passed away from the minds of the garrison; perhaps—and I am afraid this is the more likely explanation—the prevailing tone among General Primrose’s troops was one still of depression and want of “heart.”[50]The reaction had not set in, and the disastrous defeat at Maiwand and the sad result of the sortie, were still remembered with great vividness. There had been undoubted demoralization existing within the walls during the siege, caused by that unreasoning dread of an enemy which always arises after defeat. How far the demoralization spread only commanding officers could really know; but it was impossible that the remnants of a beaten brigade could be brought once more into contact with the main body without producing some ill-effect. Letterswhich reached us after we left Khelat-i-Ghilzai spoke of the “long faces drawn,” and the depression of which they were the too visible sign. And yet there were over 4,000 effective soldiers, British and native, under General Primrose’s orders. One panic-stricken man may infect a hundred; one panic-stricken regiment an army; and to judge by the stories told by soldiers of the garrison to our own men of the Cabul force, there was a tendency to foster the “ghazi scare,” and to nurse and nurture it until it grew to formidable proportions. Thus our sowars told of the terrible Aimak horsemen who feed their horses on raw meat and charged with such effect that no one could withstand them; that our cavalry would wither away before the flame and smoke breathed from their horses’ nostrils. Our sepoys, nearly all Sikhs and Ghoorkas, were so self-confident that they made no secret of their desire to meet the much-bepraised ghazi-log: they were warned that they did not know what the local ghazis’ fighting powers were, and there was what in Western life would be called “head-shaking” at our rapid movement towards the Pir Paimal Ridge on the 31st. We seemed to local wiseacres to be going right into the jaws of death, whereas our firm belief was that we were rushing into the arms of victory. Our men were impatient to wipe out the disgrace which had fallen on our arms.

SKELETON PLAN OF KANDAHAR.[Notes]

To revert to the appearance of the city when we formally relieved it: The flanking bastions which stud the wall at regular intervals are seventy in number. They are really circular towers with that part of the circumference cut away which looks citywards. As they were in a wretched state of repair as regarded their upper layers of sun-dried mud, there was much to be done in building up a new parapet with sand-bags, and their appearance is now most uncouth, each tower seeming “top-heavy” and suffering from an excrescent growth which may yet be in its infancy. The south-west bastion, overlooking the Shikarpur village wherein the enemy were always swarming, was strengthened greatly by these means, embrasures being left through which our 40-pounders could be trained to the east, west, and south. A fantastic appearance was also given to the main walls of the city by cutting down the parapet for 18 inches at points equi-distant from the bastions, and placing upright sand-bags to fill in the gapthus made. Ten riflemen were told off to man each of these gaps, which were 10 feet in length. The necessity for thus improving the parapet was due to the defective system of loopholing in vogue among the Afghans. They pierce their walls with narrow slits, through which it is impossible to see more than a few square yards of ground below; and at night not an object can be seen from nine-tenths of the loopholes. The effect of combined breech-loading fire would be minimized if rifles had thus to be blindly fired into space; whereas by giving men a chance of seeing over the wall and grouping the defenders into tens at fixed points, their fire could be always well-aimed and kept well under control. To repel, for instance, an attack of 5,000 or 6,000 men led by ghazis determined to scale the walls or die in the attempt, fire from the ordinary loopholes would have been thrown away, and only the cross-fire from the nearest bastions could have told; but once the defenders could fire at almost any angle, through the ten-feet gaps I have described, the ground in front of any given point could be swept by continuous volleys. Inside the city one could not fail to be struck with the open display of force made at every available point. There was quite a crowd of European soldiers and Bombay sepoys filling the Shikarpur Gate as General Roberts and his Staff entered the city, and nearly every man seemed to have his bayonet fixed or sword drawn. No doubt Candahar bears an ill-reputation for ghazi-ism, and there were many discontented spirits within its walls even after the 18,000 Pathans had been turned out; but the display of naked weapons certainly struck us poor pilgrims from quieter Cabul as unusual and alarming. Our own revolvers were comfortably reposing on our hips, while we found it was the fashion to carry the pistol in the hand, or a drawn sword, or a hog-spear, or a bayonet fixed on a long stickà la ghazi. In the Char Soo, the covered, arched bit of bazaar, where the chief roads cut through each other, were more men with drawn swords and fixed bayonets. The guards at the gates, at the entrance to the citadel and elsewhere, seemed of great strength; but without wishing to be rudely critical, one could not help feeling that numbers were necessary where the sepoys were of such poor physique. It is dangerous to say a word against the Bombay regiments, as a swarm of eager defenders will start up at once to justify them and to challenge comparisonwith the army of Northern India. But I must humbly submit that the weedy under-grown sepoys of one or more of the regiments now in Candahar are no more like soldiers than a stage army is like those “cull’d and choice-drawn cavaliers” who won Agincourt. I have not seen a regiment paraded, and I do not know the distinctive dress of any particular regiment, but there the men were before my eyes, and they were certainly sorry apologies for sepoys. The appearance of the citadel was as warlike as that of the city we had passed through, sand-bags and bags of flour, &c., being well to the fore wherever there was a gate to be strengthened or a wall to be made more imposing. The tower in the citadel upon which Captain Keyser, of the 7th Fusiliers, had his chief heliograph station, was topped by a circular wall of bags some five feet high, and from this point there was a good view of all the surrounding country. The northern wall, with the Eedgah Gate, looking towards Mazra, had its complement of the ever-repeating sand-bags, and in the north-west corner bastion was the 40-pounder which had shelled Picquet Hill and our cantonments, when Ayub rashly pitched his tents within range.

It is difficult of course, after a lapse of time, to pick up the threads of a story, especially when that story has for its moral indecision and disaster; and therefore, in dealing with events before and during the siege of Candahar, I have to guard against being led away by the hasty criticism or loose talk of irresponsible persons. I would rather leave such facts as I have gathered to speak for themselves than formulate conclusions which must of necessity be based upon other men’s evidence. Not having seen with my own eyes movements and actions which had most serious results, I can only present them as they were pictured to me by eye-witnesses. To make the story clearer, reasons must be given for certain positive moves made by those holding authority among the besieged garrison; the more general question of passive defence being governed by other conditions, such as themoraleand strength of the force at the Lieutenant-General’s disposal, the numbers and capacity of the enemy, and their probable intentions.

Ayub Khan’s forces made their appearance about Candahar on the 7th of August, ten days after the Maiwand defeat, and such was their confidence at that time that they occupied part of ourcantonments, and pitched their camp well within range of our 40-pounders. They were soon aware of their error, when shells began to burst even in the Surteep’s tent, and they withdrew to a safer distance, and set to work in a less obtrusive but more systematic way. Against the northern face of the city wall, and, for the most part, against the western face also, they could do nothing; there were no villages or enclosures to cover their movements. To the north the plain is covered with graves, while on the west there is a clear space at least one mile in breadth between the cantonments and the Herat Gate. On the south-west were groups of enclosures with high mud walls, twelve or eighteen inches thick, guarding the orchards and vineyards of Shikarpur and Deh Haji villages which lay in rear of them. These gave cover to their sharp-shooters, good positions for their guns, and accommodation and food to any large body of men they might mass within them. The deep water-channels of an openkarezwere also available as shelter-trenches and first parallels, if the Afghans so far understood the art of war; and altogether the Shikarpur Gate and the south-west corner bastion of the city wall were likely to be menaced. How admirably the Naib Hafizulla, who was said to be the guiding spirit of Ayub’s army, recognized the advantages of an approach from this direction I will explain presently. There was open country (cultivated fields lying fallow) facing the portion of the southern wall to the east of the Shikarpur Gate; but there were many low walls in this direction also. The eastern face, equally with the Shikarpur Gate and the southwestern line of defence, might be looked upon as attracting an attack, or at least a strong demonstration, owing to the nearness to the Cabul Gate of the large village of Deh-i-Khwaja. The distance in a direct line from the gate to the village walls was less than 1,000 yards, and the intermediate space was not, as on the western face, clear of every obstacle, but was traversed by lands with low boundary walls and by a water-channel running alongside the road leading from the city through the village. Deh-i-Khwaja covers several acres of ground, and as each house has an independent door, and is connected with its neighbour by stout mud walls, the place presents no salient point to a storming party where a position could be seized and made good. In the handsof resolute men each house would become a miniature fort to be taken before the next one could be approached. I suppose this fact was known to the officers who were responsible for the attack ultimately made upon the place. In addition to the cover offered by the low walls between the village and the eastern wall, there was, a few yards outside the Cabul Gate, a pile of buildings used as aserai. We could not of course occupy these, and we had not had time to destroy them. They would have formed the connecting link, and a very strong one, between Deh-i-Khwaja and any party told off to assail the Cabul Gate.

The enemy in their over-confidence, or by wrongly estimating our military power in Afghanistan, intended to reduce the garrison to weakness by starvation, and then to assault two or more gates, the irregulars led by ghazis being anxious to carry the city at the point of the sword. To avoid such a complication as our army cutting its way out, the villages on the south and Deh-i-Khwaja on the east were occupied in force, and earthworks thrown up along the line ofkareznear the Shikarpur group of villages. Guns were mounted at several points from which shells were pitched with fair accuracy into the citadel or burst over particular bastions. One gun, said to be a 6-pounder, was placed in Deh-i-Khwaja, an embrasure being formed by cutting through a mud wall some twelve feet high, and piling up on either side earth and thedébrisof a house which these amateur engineers demolished. This gun did little or no damage when it was fired at the Cabul Gate, but the rifle fire from the walls of the village seriously annoyed such working parties as were sent out by the garrison to destroy the low walls bounding the roads through the fields. General Primrose at last ordered that no more parties should go outside the gates, so that the cover existing for an attacking force was left intact. Day by day it was noticed that Deh-i-Khwaja was crowded with men, and suspicion became rife that preparations were being made for forcing the Cabul Gate and “rushing” the defences on that side by a swarm of irregulars. Now the word “ghazi” carried dismay into the hearts of many of the garrison—as it does still no doubt—and it became an open question whether it was not time to break through the inaction which prevailed, and force a fight on a small scale outside the walls. It was impossibleto shell the place effectually, as three of our 40-pounders were in position on the north-west and southern bastions, and our 9-pounders over the Cabul and Durani Gate could not hope to be of any great use against thick mud walls and domed houses. The two mortars of the heavy battery might plump shell into the midst of the houses, but they would not scare its defenders away. The original plan of the sortie was, I believe, conceived by Major Hills, Commanding Royal Engineers, who advised that a party of cavalry should be sent out in the early morning by the Eedgah Gate (facing north) and work round in rear of the village of Khairabad, which should then be “rushed” by some 500 or 600 infantry. Khairabad was within 400 yards of the northern walls of Deh-i-Khwaja, and the latter village was to have been taken by an attack in rear, where it was probably undefended. The 6-pounder gun was to be spiked, or brought away if time allowed, and the loopholed walls fronting the city were to be destroyed. There was nothing impossible in this plan, and the sortie, if at all well managed, ought to have proved a success. But certain modifications were made which spoiled all. On the morning of the 16th of August, 300 sabres, under command of Brigadier-General Nuttall, swept round in rear of the village, and, as was expected, the men in Deh-i-Khwaja began to leave, seeing their retreat thus cut off. The usual garrison which flocked in every morning and left at nightfall had not arrived, and they would probably have known but little of the affair until afterwards, if a fatal blunder had not been committed before the infantry went out. This was a cannonade of half an hour’s duration, from the 9-pounders and the two howitzers. General Brooke, commanding 600 men chosen from the 7th Fusiliers, 19th and 28th Native Infantry, asked that the village might be shelled before his troops went out. The unusual noise aroused every armed man in the southern villages, and even those further away on the east; and they poured out to see what was the meaning of the cannonade. They soon learnt Deh-i-Khwaja was being attacked, and they hastened to its assistance. In the meantime our cavalry had a splendid chance at some 400 or 500 men on ground which could not have been better for a charge. But General Nuttall considered the time had not yet come to use his sowars, and he contentedhimself with following the enemy, who were making for broken ground on the south. Eventually a troop was ordered to charge, and they did good execution; but the fugitives had then got cover and opened a smart fire upon the cavalry, who had to draw off a little, particularly as more men were pressing up from the Shikarpur villages. In the meantime the half-hour’s cannonade had come to an end, and the infantry had moved out; such men as still held the village were on the alert, and our troops were met by a heavy fire from the long line of loopholed walls. The attacking force was divided into three parties of about 200 men each, General Brooke taking the centre party, whose object was to penetrate the village by the road from the city, while the other parties moved off to right and left. It was this central party which suffered the heaviest loss. They rushed along the narrow road with a dry watercourse of some depth on their left hand, passed the gun and got into the village. But they were little better off than before; for every wall was loopholed, every door blockaded. All they could do was to press forward and watch for an opportunity of seizing one or more houses in rear, whence they could work back, clearing the walls and courtyards, so as to allow of the Sappers demolishing the outer wall facing the Cabul Gate. To attempt street fighting was hopeless, as our men could see no enemy; only the muzzles of rifles, many of them breech-loading, looked down upon them. General Brooke forced his way right through the place, and as the rear walls were not loopholed his party had a respite for the time. He then moved along towards the north, but returned when he could find no point which served to give him a chance of making his hold good. The party to the left under Colonel Heathcote did not enter the village but lined the walls in the fields, keeping up a heavy fire to draw off the defenders’ attention. On the right, Trench of the 19th Bombay Infantry had got possession of a large walled garden to the south of the village, whence he drove such of the enemy as made a stand. The sortie was being watched by General Primrose and the garrison from the walls; but owing to a thick haze little could be seen of what was going forward. Thecontinuouscontinuousfiring showed the village had not been captured, and swarms of irregulars could now and again be distinguished running across the open country as if makingfor Deh-i-Khwaja. General Primrose therefore ordered the troops engaged to be recalled, and directed the artillery and infantry on the walls to cover the retirement. The orders were passed on to General Brooke. The two parties under Colonel Heathcote and Trench (killed about this time) began to fall back, leaving the third batch of 200 men, still in the rear of the village, quite unsupported. The cavalry also made for the Cabul Gate; the rifle fire from the enemy, who were following them up, costing them many horses. Our retirement was the signal for the advance of every Afghan who had been held in check by the cavalry in the open. The garden Trench’s party had held was occupied by them, and every wall in the fields in the south-east was lined with their skirmishers. For General Brooke to withdraw safely under such conditions was almost impossible. He tried to make his way back by the road leading through the heart of the village; but the fire from the loopholes was too terrible, and he turned off to his left, coming out into the fields just where a few walls gave cover to his men and enabled them to rally. In the confusion which prevailed his party were mistaken for “ghazis,” and a 40-pounder began to shell them. Fortunately the shells were too high, and did no mischief. No supports were sent out to aid him, though appeals were made to General Primrose to allow skirmishers to line the low walls outside the Cabul Gate in a south-easterly direction.[51]General Brooke had supported Lieutenant Cruickshank, R.E., severely wounded, and had brought him out of the village. They rested behind a wall while a handful of men were got together to cover their retreat towards the walls, still a thousand yards away. But the fire from the loopholes was too heavy, and as the General tried to cross to the shelter of another wall he was shot down. A sergeant of the 7th Fusiliers with him was killed, and two Bombay Sappers wounded, and then the two officers had to be left to their fate. Their men were harassed by continuous fire at almost point blank ranges, and the sortie ended by forty of our dead being left on the ground, while twice that number of wounded were received within the walls. The details of the killed and wounded, officers and men,are given in the despatches. The total casualties were about 200; and this short story of how the sortie was made and how little it bore the character of a “success,” which I see it has always been called by General Primrose, may help you to appreciate what occurred. There is no charge against the soldiers; all are said to have fought well and to have shown great steadiness; but the departure from the original plan was fatal, and no supports being left for General Brooke’s party to fall back upon, gave the enemy the chance of cutting our men up in detail. There are other features of the sortie which I have no doubt men who were in it can fill up. I have been through Deh-i-Khwaja and over the ground outside, and I can fully appreciate how General Brooke failed to make good his hold of the village.

Candahar,12th September.

I have described the position taken up by Ayub Khan’s forces on the eastern side of Candahar, and the sortie made on August 16th against the Deh-i-Khwaja village. Major Hills, the Engineer officer commanding, had warned General Primrose that he would not be responsible for the safety of the city if Deh-i-Khwaja were left untouched, so high an estimate was placed upon the capacity of the enemy. On the 17th the guns directed against the city, more apparently for the purpose of annoying the garrison than with any ideathenof systematic bombardment, were the 6-pounder in Deh-i-Khwaja, an Armstrong breech-loader, and one of our Royal Horse Artillery 9-pounders on Picquet Hill, a 6-pounder in an embrasure near the Head-Quarters’ Garden facing the western wall, and another 6-pounder in a garden to the south-west, distant 1,100 yards from the Shikarpur Gate, and somewhat nearer the south-west corner bastion. The guns on Picquet Hill were answered by a 40-pounder in the north-west bastion, and their fire was plainly meant to make the citadel as uncomfortable as possible for the troops crowded within it. One of these guns was silenced on the 16th, and was believed to have been dismounted. The 6-pounder near the Head-Quarters’ Garden was fired at uncertain intervals at the bastions on the western face, in the hope, apparently, of injuring whatever men might beon duty on the wall. It was on the south-west that the greatest pains were taken by Ayub’s amateur “engineers,” and here the contour of the ground favoured them immensely. The group of villages known to the garrison under the general name of Shikarpur was protected by many walled gardens and vineyards, which had in their front two deepkarezwater-channels, then quite dry, as the canals from the Argandab River and local springs had been blocked so as to cut off the usual water supply of Candahar. Thekarezin vogue in Southern Afghanistan is different to that we have been accustomed to further north. Instead of an underground canal, with openings at stated intervals, wherefrom the earth excavated is thrown up in mounds, there is a deep open channel cut from six to twelve feet deep, along the banks of which the earth and mud are thrown up so as to form a formidable ditch. The stream at the bottom is of no great depth, and courses along to lower levels very quietly, no rapid fall being allowed. There are usually minor channels running out from the mainkarez, unless the water has to be taken to a level several miles away from the original spring. The Shikarpur gardens and villages afforded ample cover for a large body of men, and thekarezchannels in front were seized upon as offering ready-made trenches in which to form batteries and a line of breastworks for riflemen. The “works” raised by the enemy still stand almost untouched, and a few days ago I went over them with an engineer officer who was in Candahar during the siege. From his explanation, and my own observations, I may be able to give a fair idea of the engineering skill which some, at least, of Ayub’s officers could boast. That nothing came of this attempt to raise batteries and breastworks is due to the rapid advance of the relieving force from Cabul, the enemy not having time to complete their lines, and being forced to abandon the siege when it was yet in its infancy. In the sixteen or seventeen days they were at work they made very creditable progress; and, left undisturbed, they might have caused the garrison much trouble and annoyance.

It is believed that the first plan of the Naib Hafizulla, who controlled the Afghan army, was to raise a number of batteries to play upon the Shikarpur Gate and that part of the wall lying between that gate and the south-west bastion; riflemen wereto be pushed as near the bastion as possible, sheltered by protecting walls and ditches in the fields; and then an assault was to be made by the fanatical irregulars led by their ghazis. Scaling ladders were to be used, and, under cover of a terrific fire directed upon the defenders of the southern wall, the grand attack was to be delivered. There would probably have been other attacks made from the south-east and east, and the ghazis were confident of success after their victory over General Burrows’s Brigade. The affair of the 16th warned Hafizulla that it was dangerous to have guns exposed to a sudden sortie, and in the Shikarpur direction he took every precaution to guard against an attack from the garrison being successful. Every enclosure had its walls loop-holed above and below, to give a double line of fire, and along every ditch and water-channel clods of earth were piled to form a low projecting parapet for the men lining them. The ground is much broken and cut up in every direction, mounds of earth being scattered at intervals where the cultivators had been compelled to excavate deeply for thekarez. Riding towards the outward belt of walled vineyards and gardens—many of the latter containing trees of large growth and thick foliage—we followed the narrow road leading from the city; and at about 1,000 yards from the walls we came upon what our engineers would call the trenches. These were the upper and lower channels of thekarez, quite dry, as I have before mentioned. The channels were connected by narrow cuttings eight feet deep, in the most approved manner, in exact imitation of the zig-zag way in which parallels are pushed forward in civilized warfare. These cuttings were not very numerous, it is true, but then the works had not been completed. Instead of the men having to expose themselves by climbing up and down the deep banks of thekarez, openings were cut leading to the enclosures and villages in rear. One bend of thekarezleft the line exposed to flanking fire from the walls of the city, and to negative this traverses of earth and mud had been built up at every 20 feet. This portion of the works was very skilfully done, the parapet in front, as being exposed to shell-fire, being two or three feet thick. In rear of these “trenches” were the batteries in their half-completed state. The low mounds of earth I have spoken of were cut down, and a semicircularspace, open in rear, cleared away, the earth being banked up so as to form a substantial parapet facing citywards. Two embrasures had been cut through in each battery, branches of trees being used to strengthen them and allow the earthwork to settle down into solid form. The parapet and its protecting embankment were of sufficient strength to resist the heaviest shell that could be thrown from our own guns. On looking through the embrasures in one battery we found that one gun could be trained upon the Shikarpur Gate and the other upon the south-west bastion. Every thing was completed in this battery, and the marks of wheels showed that a field gun had been in position. A little to the right was a more pretentious battery, plainly meant for three or four guns, judging from the size of the space cleared. The ground was sloped gradually down to the fields in rear of these batteries, and cover could be given to the horses and drivers belonging to the guns. The 6-pounder which fired daily upon the walls had a snug corner to itself in a clump of trees. The embrasure had been made very ingeniously. A bank of earth, 12 or 15 feet thick at its base, had been built up, with its right resting on the trunk of a stout tree with long over-reaching branches. One of these branches, which stretched out at right angles four feet above the ground, had the earthwork piled above and below it, so that it formed a strong support to the embankment. There were two embrasures, one, as usual, pointing upon the Shikarpur Gate; and I believe the gun was so hidden by the foliage of the trees that from the walls it was difficult to detect the embrasures except by the flash of the gun. Some of our shells had been, however, well pitched, the trunk of the tree being barked and splintered. The gunners were quite safe, of course, unless a shell actually burst in the embrasure itself, which was extremely unlikely. Standing in rear of the earthwork one could appreciate the security of the men who had held it, and with what impunity they could bang away at our bastions. The line ofkarezwas followed in a westerly direction, and all along its banks we traced the low parapet formed of clods of earth. The walls of the enclosure had their rows of loopholes, and when working parties were sent out from the city three days after the raising of the siege, they found that good cover existed to within 300 yardsof the corner bastion. There was always lively rifle-fire going on whenever any one showed on the parapet of the city wall, but the Afghans outside had generally the best of the position, as they were quite hidden from sight. A piece of open ground in rear of thekarezbetween two enclosures was rather a dangerous place for them to cross, although 1,000 yards from the walls. Marksmen with Martinis fired volleys whenever they saw a group hurrying across, and the bullets generally told. Many of the walls have been thrown down by our working parties; and in one garden, full of large trees casting a pleasant shade, is the Field Hospital of the garrison. Thence we passed towards the Head-Quarters’ Garden (now occupied by General Phayre and his Staff), and had a look at the embrasure whence a 6-pounder used to fire into the city. The gun was placed on the steep bank of the mainkarez, and was banked up to its muzzle, which was some ten feet above the bottom of the water cut. There was broken ground in front, intersected by irrigation channels, and in rear some low-walled enclosures in which are now located a number of our transport animals. Here my interesting journey came to an end, and I returned to quarters in cantonments, favourably impressed with the rude evidences of the enemy’s skill. It was at first believed that a European adventurer was with Ayub Khan, from the admirable way in which his artillery was handled and the dispositions made for investing Candahar; but this idea is now exploded. It is more probable that there were in Herat men who had seen service in the Turkish army in Asia Minor, or even north of the Bosphorus, in the late war against Russia. These men could have picked up some idea of entrenchments and be able to apply their knowledge under the direction of the Naib, the only Afghan General who seems to know how to handle his men. Others there may be who have learned a smattering of the principles of civilized warfare in Persia or the Russian Khanates; but in any case there was a decided improvement in their method to that of the men we fought in and about Cabul.

CHAPTER V.

An Account of the Defeat of General Burrows at Maiwand—The Disaffection among the Wali’s Troops—Intrigues between Local Sirdars and Ayub Khan—The Desertion of the Wali’s Infantry—General Burrows at Girishk—His Orders—Ayub Khan’s Line of Advance from Farrah—The Helmund River Fordable at all Points—The Routes from Girishk to Candahar—Strategical Importance of Girishk—General Burrows’ Council of War on July 15th—Retirement of the Brigade upon Khusk-i-NakhudRetirement of the Brigade upon Khusk-i-Nakhud—Defective Cavalry Reconnaissances—Ayub Khan’s Advance upon Maiwand—His Arrival at Sangbur—General Burrows’ Movement from Khusk-i-Nakhud to intercept the Afghan Army—The Action at Maiwand—Comparative Strength of the British and Afghan Forces—General Burrows’ First Disposition of Attack—An Artillery Duel—The effect upon the Brigade of acting on the Defensive—Advance of the Afghan Irregulars—The Behaviour of Jacob’s Rifles on the Left—Confusion among the Native Troops—Defeat and Rout of the Brigade—Ineffectual Attempt to make the Cavalry Charge—The Retreat to Candahar.

Candahar,13th September.

From such sources as I have been able to draw upon, I have gained a fairly exact idea of the circumstances attending General Burrows’ defeat on the 27th of July, and I am now writing what, perhaps, is the first unofficial account of the Maiwand disaster. Taking up the story from the mutiny of the Wali’s troops on the 14th of July, it would seem that though General Burrows succeeded on that occasion in recapturing the 6-pounder smooth-bore battery, there was not that severe punishment inflicted upon the mutineers which would have been their just reward. The disaffection in the Wali Shere Ali’s army was well known in the British camp, and decisive measures might have been taken for disarming the 2,000 infantry soldiers before they had fully made up their minds to desert. But that indecision which was the ruling power in the Girishk Brigade was all-powerful even in the early days of July; and there was, perhaps, also the feeling in the political mind that it was too early to acknowledge how mere a shadow the Wali’s authority was, and how worthless was his so-called army. The fact that Nur Mahomed Khan, “the Surteep,” had been wholly won over to Ayub’s side, must surelyhave been known to the Wali, who was no doubt also tempted to throw over the British. One of the Candahar regiments, even before it marched to the Helmund, was greatly disaffected; but as the Wali had officered his “army” from this particular regiment there was a disinclination to disband it, as the other regiments might have given trouble. Thus the Surteep was allowed full scope to work out his plans, and his subsequent desertion followed in the natural order of things. His character as a hospitable entertainer of British officers had won him some goodwill; but there were those who suspected his loyalty to us, and were doubtful of his relations with Ayub Khan. For months there must have been secret correspondence between this man and the Herat leaders, who were no doubt kept fully informed of all our movements, and furnished with exact details of our local strength. That such a truly Afghan intrigue should not have been detected, proves how small was the sympathy really felt for us in Candahar, and the question arises was the Wali unacquainted with the plot to seduce his army when the occasion served? If he were not, he must indeed be an exception to the general rule, for Afghan sirdars are so well versed in intrigue that they can usually detect danger when our political officers believe all is going smoothly and satisfactorily. But on July 14th the plot came to a head, and General Burrows found himself left, with a weak brigade, alone on the Helmund. Nominally, he had been supposed to act in support of the Wali’s army; but this farce had come to an end, and his position was defined only too clearly: he had to meet single-handed whatever force Ayub could muster. Our late “allies” were in the ranks of the enemy; the Wali’s army had ceased to exist; and the Surteep’s desertion would probably be followed by the rising of the armed peasantry of Zamindawar and the surrounding districts, for the Sirdar’s example could not fail to influence ignorant men. If a chief of such importance had declared for Ayub, surely, it would be argued, the British were in great straits. Now comes the moot point as to what were General Burrows’ orders, and what expectation he had of being reinforced from Candahar. Regarding the first, I believe I am perfectly right in stating that he was ordered to “stop Ayub Khan and disperse his troops if possible.” On the question of reinforcements I am more doubtful; but Istate pretty confidently that General Primrose had decided that Candahar could not spare another regiment to strengthen the Girishk Brigade, even under the altered conditions reported to him after the mutiny. General Burrows was not relieved of his task of “stopping Ayub,” and there must have been an over-weening confidence in the mind of the General commanding at Candahar in respect to the fighting power of the regiment with his absent Brigadier. That there was not the same feeling among the officers of the brigade itself is now well known, and one paragraph from the letter of an artillery officer, dated July 19th, and published soon afterwards, is so true an estimate of the situation that I cannot refrain from quoting it. He wrote:—

“We are now waiting for Ayub Khan, who is about 30 miles off, with thirty-six guns and about 6,000 men. It will be a stiff fight if he comes to the scratch, as this is a perfectly open country, and we are only 1,500 infantry, 500 sabres, and six guns.”

MAP TO ILLUSTRATE OPERATIONS ON THE HALMAND.JULY 1880

This forecast of a “stiff fight” proved only too true, but instead of the 6,000 men referred to, our soldiers had to meet a host of irregulars led by fanatical ghazis.

It devolved upon General Burrows to decide what course would be most calculated to bar Ayub’s progress, and on July 15th he wisely called together his commanding officers and held a small council of war. The day was not wasted in idle discussion, as while opinions were being exchanged our gunners were horsing and equipping the captured guns, the teams of which had been used by the mutineers to aid them in their flight. Many considerations had to be weighed in council. First, the position of the enemy the brigade were bound to “stop and disperse if possible.” Such information as Colonel St. John possessed favoured the belief that the enemy’s cavalry under the Naib Hafizulla were still distant 30 miles from the bank of the Helmund, and that the main body with the guns was several marches in rear of this advanced party. Ayub’s line of advance was along the main Herat Road, and he would probably enter the Helmund Valley near the Khoja Baba Peak, a high point of the range of hills which run parallel to the course of the river. This peak is 30 miles in a bee-line from Girishk, and between it and the river is an open plain, waterless, but otherwise quite easy for a force of allarms to cross. There was this plain still between the brigade and Ayub’s advanced cavalry, so that the two forces were scarcely “in touch,” more particularly as it was imperatively laid down in instructions from the Government of India that the Helmund River was not to be crossed under any circumstances. General Burrows was to wait for the enemy to appear before him, and his council of war had to decide at what point so to wait. The Helmund is usually fordable at only four points: Sangin on the south, Hyderabad, Girishk and Kalabist (at the junction with the Argandab). From these fords four roads converge on Candahar: the northern by way of the Malmund and Maiwand Passes, practicable for wheeled artillery; the two central passing through Khusk-i-Nakhud, and the southern routeviâBalakhana and the Bund-i-Taimur. Of these four routes, that most commonly used, on account of its directness, water and other supplies, is the road passing through Khusk-i-Nakhud from Girishk. Hence the value of Girishk as a strategical point at which to hold in check an army advancing from the west upon Candahar. But that strategical value had almost disappeared, as the Helmund, owing to an exceptionally dry season, was everywhere fordable for men on foot, thus allowing Ayub to cross it wherever he might choose and avoid Girishk. Furthermore, when the question of supplies was entered into, it appeared that the brigade had been quite dependent upon grain and forage collected by the Wali and stored near the fort on the eastern bank of the river. What supplies had existed on the 18th had either been carried off or destroyed by the mutinous regiments, leaving Girishk practically unable to provide longer for our troops. The necessity of at once finding supplies made a move from Girishk unavoidable, and General Burrows and his officers had determined what direction should be taken. The opinion of the majority favoured a retirement to Asu Khan, whence all the roads could be commanded and supports easily drawn from Candahar. This, of course, took it for granted that Ayub Khan meant to march direct upon Candahar and not turn off northwards for Ghazni and Cabul; and the retirement was advocated also on the ground that the brigade was not strong enough, unsupported, to meet the enemy in an open fight. There was a bolder proposal to move northwards to Hyderabad, retainingthe Helmund as our advanced line, but this found little support. Finally the middle course of a partial retirement was agreed on, the brigade to fall back instantly upon Khusk-i-Nakhud. This would place General Burrows upon the central road to Candahar, and therefore commanding, to a certain extent, the northern and southern routes; the force would also be only some 50 miles from head-quarters, whence it was hoped new orders would be received, and possibly reinforcements. This was the result of the little council of war held at Girishk, and it seems to have been just and reasonable. To have stayed at Girishk was almost impossible, as supplies were exhausted: to have moved to Hyderabad would have involved serious risk if Ayub’s army were joined by the people of the district; while to have fallen so far back as Asu Khan before a shot had been fired would have seemed excessive timidity. Khusk-i-Nakhud was an admirable point from which to watch Ayub’s passage of the Helmund, and thence to ascertain his strength and probable intentions.

On July 15th a night march was made, and on the morning of the 16th the brigade encamped on their old ground at Khusk-i-Nakhud. On the following days the troops moved two miles nearer to Mis Karez, and took up a position which they occupied until the morning of the 27th. The stores were placed in a small walled enclosure, and the baggage laagered up ready for all emergencies. Spies, furnished by the Wali, were busy during the next few days in bringing news of Ayub’s movements. Their story was that the Afghan force was distributed in the dry river-bed between the Girishk and Hyderabad fords; it made no signs of moving eastwards, and the opinion began to prevail that Ghazni and not Candahar was Ayub’s objective. Reconnaissances were made every day by General Nuttall’s cavalry, but they were not of the kind to preserve touch with an enemy. Thus a troop or so visited Garmao, Sangbur, and the Bund-i-Taimar daily, as if for a constitutional ride, baited their horses, looked around, and returned. Their movements were so beautifully regular that every peasant knew at what time to expect them. Ayub’s movements were never really watched at all, though sufficient cavalry were with the brigade to have allowed of regular outpost work being done, instead of a few hours’ visit daily to the same villages.It was not until the 21st that Ayub’s cavalry pushed forward from the Helmund and exchanged shots with our reconnoitring party at Sangbur. The next day the village was found to be held by them, and news reached camp that 500 sowars were to seize Maiwand within twenty-four hours. There were stores of grain lying in the fields about Maiwand, and fearing they would fall into Ayub’s hands, General Burrows ordered a squadron of cavalry to destroy the grain. They had only gone a few miles from Khusk-i-Nakhud when they were fired upon by a large body of Afghan cavalry, who were reconnoitring our position with some boldness. Our cavalry scouts, deceived by the haze, reported that two regiments of infantry were supporting the hostile cavalry, and the Horse Artillery and some infantry were sent out from Khusk-i-Nakhud. It turned out to be a myth; there were no Afghan infantry, and by this time their cavalry were retiring in perfect safety. The guns certainly fired a round or two after them, but our sowars missed their chance of a charge, scared by the report that infantry were hidden under some low hills. Sangbur contained no enemy on the 24th, but in the same neighbourhood on the 25th two of the Scind Horse were killed, the Afghan sowars being again on the move. So late as the 26th it was believed all Ayub’s guns were at Hyderabad, and that no movement in the direction of the Malmund Pass had been made. The Afghan army was then believed to be about 12,000 strong, counting regulars alone, while the number of ghazis and irregulars from Zamindawar was said to be very large. Ayub’s advance could not be exactly foreshadowed, but from his position at Hyderabad it was most likely that he would try to reach Maiwand through Sangbur, as none of his troops were reported to be on the longer route viâ the Malmund Pass.

The camp at Khusk-i-Nakhud was once more aroused on the afternoon of the 26th by positive news of a demonstration in the Maiwand direction, that village having been occupied by 200 irregulars, while Garmao, five miles away, was said to be held in strength by cavalry. The conclusion arrived at upon this becoming known was that Ayub meant to occupy Maiwand by a sudden move without joining battle with our troops, and that not improbably he would thence try to slip away through the Maiwand Passso as to place himself between the brigade and Candahar.[52]Spies also led General Burrows and Colonel St. John to believe that the main body must be still a march in rear of the cavalry at Garmao.[53]In view of this, it seemed important to seize Maiwand before it could be occupied in force, more particularly as the brigade had been for some days drawing its supplies from that village, and stores of grain still remained in its neighbourhood which would fall into Ayub’s hands. The distance from Khusk-i-Nakhud to Maiwand was twelve miles, and a rapid march to the latter place might anticipate Ayub’s movements and enable the brigade to clearGarmaoGarmaoof the Naib and his advanced cavalry. All this was of course on the supposition that the main body of the Afghan army with the thirty odd guns was well in rear of the cavalry—an unfortunate supposition as it afterwards turned out, but one due to the wretched information resulting from the cavalry “reconnaissances.”

General Burrows, on the night of the 26th, issued orders for the whole brigade, baggage and stores included, to march at daybreak on the following morning. At such short notice the large quantity of reserve supplies in the walled enclosures could not be got out in time, and it was not until half-past six that the troops left Khusk-i-Nakhud. The route taken was along the right bank of the Khusk-i-Nakhud river-bed, then quite dry. There was a strip of cultivation near the bank, but beyond, on either hand, lay arid, stony plains. The brigade halted at eight o’clock at Mushak, to enable the baggage to close up. This occupied half an hour, and then the march was continued, the next place reached being Karezak. Here, for the first time, the unexpected news was brought by our spies that thewholeof Ayub’s force was on the left front, marching on Maiwand. The cavalry were sentout to reconnoitre, and found large bodies of horsemen moving in the direction indicated; but the haze and mirage prevented our sowars making any estimate of what force was covered by the cavalry. This was about 10 o’clock, and yet even with the aid of telescopes little could be seen of Ayub’s army. Spies reported that the guns were there; but this news was looked upon by the General with great mistrust, natives being so given to exaggeration. General Burrows moved his troops at once rapidly towards Maiwand, meaning to occupy one of the large walled enclosures wherein to stow his 3,000 baggage animals and their loads, thus leaving the brigade freedom of movement in attacking the Afghan army. It was too late. Before the intervening village of Mundabad was gained, a large number of white-clothed figures, irregulars who follow theirmoollahs'dictation and their ghazis’ lead, were seen pouring out from Maiwand itself. The enemy’s cavalry ceased to retire, and along the slopes of the low hills above Garmao could be distinguished masses of men in some sort of organized formation. The haze still lay over the country, and it was impossible to make out in detail the strength of the army thus suddenly confronting the weak brigade. The ground on which the action which followed was fought is thus described to me by an officer present:—“A small stream, rising in the hills immediately north of Maiwand, formed almost the only drainage line intersecting the barren waste in our front. It ran successively past the villages of Mundabad, Karezak, and Mushak, eventually disappearing in akarez. Between this stream and the dry bed of the Khusk-i-Nakhud river the ground was level and cultivated, dotted occasionally with high walled enclosures, but generally open.” General Burrows had with him, approximately, 1,500 rifles, 550 sabres, and 12 guns, of which 6 formed the smooth-bore battery, manned by one officer and 42 men of the 66th Foot. He resolved to force the fighting; and four guns of the Horse Artillery Battery (E-B) with the cavalry crossed the drynullahforming the bed of the Khusk-i-Nakhud stream, followed by the 66th Foot, 1st Bombay Grenadiers, and Jacob’s Rifles with the smooth-bore guns. The baggage crossed in rear under an escort of two companies of infantry, a squadron of cavalry, and two horse artillery guns. Thenullahhaving been crossed, the troops advanced about a mile andformed up in line in the following order:—66th Foot on extreme right, guns in the centre, with a wing of Jacob’s Rifles and the Sappers as escort, Grenadiers on left, a wing of Jacob’s Rifles in reserve behind the guns. The cavalry were at first on the extreme left guarding the flank of the Grenadiers.

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