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FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION ONLY.
PRIVATE JOURNAL
OF
HENRY FRANCIS BROOKE,
LATE BRIGADIER-GENERAL
COMMANDING 2ND INFANTRY BRIGADE
KANDAHAR FIELD FORCE,
SOUTHERN AFGHANISTAN,
FROM APRIL 22ND TO AUGUST 16TH, 1880.
For................................................
From...............................................
DUBLIN:
PRINTED BY WILLIAM CURWEN, 3, NASSAU STREET.
1881.
PREFACE.
The following Journal or Diary was written by my
dear Husband—to use his own words—"for you, of
course, first, but written in this form specially for
the dear chicks, and therefore quite simple and plain,
so as to interest and amuse them; but I shall be very
glad if it interests the others if you will send it the
rounds, as then I need not try to write the same
story over and over again, which is very tiresome."
When on the 20th March, 1880, being at the time
Adjutant-General of the Bombay Army, my dear
Husband, to his infinite satisfaction and delight, and
full of ardour and zeal, was ordered to the Front, to
take command, as Brigadier-General, of the 2nd
Infantry Brigade at Kandahar, Southern Afghanistan;
knowing how deeply interested we (his wife,
and children, his mother, brothers and sisters) would
be in all his movements and actions, he conceived
the idea of writing this Journal, and most regularly
week by week, as he found time to write, and as the
Indian mail arrived, did I receive it, and most eagerly
was it looked for and read. It will be seen that at
first going off the wording of it was simple so that
the children might easily understand all that their
dear Father was doing, and small details describing
the various stages of his journey up to Kandahar
from Bombay are fully entered into with the object
of amusing and interesting them, and that they might
the more readily picture him both then, and when
later on, having reached Kandahar, and before
troubles began, he amused himself by daily rides into
the neighbouring fields and orchards, and still further
into the villages and surrounding districts, not always
unattended without a certain amount of risk and
danger, and thus became acquainted intimately with
the country within 12 or 15 miles of Kandahar. But
as difficulties developed themselves, and were followed,
first by the lamentable defeat and retreat from the
battlefield of Maiwand, of a portion of the already
too small force that was holding, what appeared to
him, the very false military position at Kandahar,
and ended as a climax, in the Siege of Kandahar
itself, the subject matter of the Journal necessarily
became of such painful interest, that the language of
it on many points almost went beyond the comprehension
of the children, or, at any rate, was not too
"simple" for their elders, albeit only too "plain"
and grievous for all to read hereafter, when we remembered
that He, whom we so dearly loved, had
been besieged within the walls of that city, and had
been in daily danger of losing that life so valuable to
his wife and children, and which, alas! it was God's
will—before the Kandahar garrison was relieved—should
be sacrificed in the performance, in the first
instance, of his duty, as a true and ardent soldier in
the service of his Queen and country, during the
sortie upon the village of Deh Khoja on the 16th
August, 1880, while in command of the attacking
party; and, more directly, in the endeavour to rescue
from a cruel death a brother officer—Captain Cruikshank
of the Royal Engineers—whom he found in
the village severely wounded and unable to save
himself! This sortie had been determined upon six
days before it was actually undertaken, and strongly
then objected to, for various sound military reasons,
by my dear Husband, as we now know by what is
written in the Journal of the events that daily occurred
during the Siege of Kandahar, and also from
friends who were there themselves, extracts from
whose letters—giving us the sad details of that ill-fated
sortie—will be found in the Appendix. These
extracts speak volumes of themselves, and need no
comment from me. The manner and character of
my dear Husband's self-sacrificing death are indications
in themselves of the ruling power which
influenced all his actions.
It will be seen that the Journal itself ends abruptly
with the events of the 14th August—all that happened
afterwards we have learnt through the letters
of kind friends—and when the former was written
it was never intended that it should have been
printed, but as all relating to my dear Husband has
now become of painful interest to those most nearly
connected with him, I have been asked, and have
yielded to the temptation, to print it as it stands,
for private circulation among his nearest relations,
to whom he was, in each relation of life, without
reproach, and who now mourn his irreparable loss.
ANNIE BROOKE.
Ashbrooke,
Brookeboro',
Ireland,
June 18, 1881.
JOURNAL.
RECEIVED ORDERS TO PROCEED TO KANDAHAR.
On Saturday, the 20th March, 1880, I received the
official notification that my appointment to the
command of a Brigade of the Kandahar Force had
been approved by the Viceroy, and I decided to
leave for Kurrachee by the mail steamer of the 27th,
as, although I had commenced my preparations a
few days before, there was still a good deal to be
done, and many things to be got to complete the
small service kit which I had to take with me. The
first thing to be thought of was some horses, as I
had only one at the time, and as the season for
purchasing horses in the Bombay market was over
(the best time is November, December, and January,
when the Arabs arrive from the Persian Gulf with
horses), I knew there would be great difficulty in
getting horses up to my weight. After many fruitless
visits to the various stables, I heard of a very
large and handsome Arab for sale at the stables of
Addool Rahman, the great horse dealer of Bombay,
who strongly recommended me to buy him if I was
prepared to give the long price asked (£120).
After seeing him and riding him, I quite came to the
conclusion he was worth the money, and purchased
him, getting him for £110. I then bought a
Persian horse out of Sir Richard Temple's stud, for
which I gave £60, and with my old friend, a chesnut
Australian horse which I have now had for four
years, I felt quite made up, and requiring only a
pony, which I will get in Beloochistan. I have named
the Arab horse (an iron grey) "Akhbar," the
Persian (also a grey) "Selim," and the Australian's
name is "Rufus." Before going further I must
mention that I nearly lost both my new purchases
the day after they came into my stables, as the Arab
got a bad attack of colic, and the Persian got away
from the man who was leading him, and got a very
bad cut on his hind leg from some wire paling, but
fortunately both got better much more quickly than
I hoped, and seem very happy and comfortable
in their stalls on board this ship to-day (S.S.
"Umballa," at sea March 28th). The next thing to
do was to find servants, and in this I think I have
been fortunate, having got a quiet Portuguese as
general servant, to take care of my clothes, cook, and
make himself generally useful. He is to get 25
rupees a month, his clothes and food. Each horse
has its groom, and they seem good sort of men, but
there is not much choice, as one has to take pretty
much what can be got, as there is not much desire
among this class of men to see foreign parts. They
|Preparations for Kandahar.|
each get 15 rupees a month, and their clothes and
food. After the horses and servants were procured
the next consideration was how to get all the things
I wanted to take with me into the limit of weight
allowed us by the Regulations. I have, of course,
considerably more than other officers, but even so I
find it quite impossible to manage all I should like
to do, so I have brought about 100 lbs. over my
weight, as I can easily take any quantity I like as
far as the railway goes (i.e., to Sibi), and I am told
beyond that I shall perhaps be able to hire some
private carriage to take the extra quantity on to
Kandahar, and certainly to Quetta, where it can be
left, and sent on after me to Kandahar, when the
press of sending up troops is over. Even with this
extra weight I have been obliged, of course, to limit
greatly my desires and wants, but I hope I have got
together a fairly compact kit with nothing but what
is absolutely necessary in it. First of all I have two
very small trunks, which contain my clothes (all of
which are uniform), shirts, &c., &c. I have, as a
great treat, brought two white shirts, to be worn on
high days and holidays, as a change from the
coloured flannel shirts which, though useful and
appropriate for the occasion, are articles of dress I
dislike very much. As the cold season is now past,
and it is heat rather than cold we shall suffer from,
it has not been necessary to bring up warm clothing,
although, of course, I have a few warm things in
case of meeting sudden changes of temperature which
is quite possible. General Hogg, the Quartermaster-General,
presented me with an excellent breech-loading
revolver, and I have purchased a sword belt
of the kind called the "Sam Browne Belt" (having
been invented by General Sir Sam Browne), as it is
so arranged that without inconvenience the pistol
and ammunition can be carried on it, and the sword
itself can be arranged according to one's pleasure,
for riding or walking, which is a great convenience.
The Government carry for me 200 lbs. weight of
tents (for other officers only 100 lbs.), so I have
purchased two tents, one for myself and the other
|Service kit for Kandahar.|
for the servants. My tent is 9 feet by 8, and has a
double top as a protection against the sun, and a
sort of small verandah on one side, which can be
used as a bath-room. The furniture of the tent
consists of a bed 6 feet long and 2 feet 3 inches wide,
a small folding table and one chair. When I get to
Kandahar, if obliged to live in a tent, I will, of
course, supplement this scanty supply by such
articles of native manufacture as I can get. I have
a block tin basin, but no tub, as that is too bulky
and heavy, and the custom on the march is to have
the water-carrier (Bheestie) to empty a skin of water
over one, which, though not so comfortable as a
marble bath, answers all the purposes very well.
My cooking utensils are so arranged as to go into a
strong basket 2 feet high and 12 inches in diameter.
In this there are 3 saucepans, which fit one into the
other, a kettle, a stewpan, a frying-pan, and a pewter
teapot, and 2 teacups and saucers pack into the
saucepans, and 2 soup plates and 2 dinner plates,
enamelled iron, go into the stewpan. In my
luncheon basket are 3 knives, 3 forks, 3 spoons, and
a couple of glasses, so on a pinch I can give a dinner
party of two, without resorting to the usual fashion,
which is that when you are asked to dinner in camp
you bring your own knives, forks, plates, glass, and
generally your chair, your host supplying only the
table, food, and, if he is a very good manager and
very generous, drink. Of course as the country gets
more opened up, native traders will push forward,
and everything one can want will be procurable,
although, of course, at exorbitant prices; and even
now I hear almost anything can be bought at Quetta,
and a good number of things at Kandahar. My
establishment and kit are therefore constituted as
follows:—
- 1 General Man Servant,
- 3 Native Grooms,
- 3 Horses,
- 2 Tents,
- 2 Trunks,
- 1 Table,
- 1 Bed,
- 1 Chair,
Cooking Utensils and Plates, Glasses, Knives and
Forks for two. I have brought up with me a dozen
case of whiskey and two small boxes containing a
carefully selected assortment of stores to eke out the
rations on the march. I have brought some soups,
some chocolate and milk, biscuits, sardines, macaroni,
tea, pickles and sauces. How far I shall be able to
get these three little boxes I don't know, but at the
worst they can easily be got to Quetta, and after that
must follow me as they can. On the whole, I am quite
satisfied with all my arrangements, especially with
my horses, which, if I can only land them safely at
Kurrachee (a very troublesome business) and get
them to the end of the Railway journey without
hurt, will, I think, turn out well, and I am sure I
hope so, as all one's efficiency and usefulness (to say
nothing of one's comfort and safety) depends on
being well mounted, and being able to move about
rapidly and see everything for oneself. My saddles
(each horse has his own) are all fitted with arrangements
for carrying coats, rugs, &c., &c., and extras
of all sorts, and during the march the horses I am
not riding will have to carry their own clothing, and
also that of the horse I ride and of the Syces (native
grooms). It will be quite a delightful change to
me, after eight years continuous office work day after
day from ten till five, to live an active life constantly
in the saddle and knocking about, and I feel sure the
change will be very good for me in every way. I
have brought with me a Persian Grammar and
Dictionary, and intend, when settled at Kandahar,
to work up a little Persian which might prove useful
to me some day or other. The last week at Bombay
was very busy, as, in addition to my preparation for
a start, I wanted to keep up my work to the last,
and leave nothing unfinished, which I am glad to
think I did. I had farewell dinners to go to every
night, and indeed had not nights enough nearly to
enable me to accept all the invitations I received.
I must not forget to say that among other superfluities
which I have left behind me at Bombay, are
my razors and shaving brush, as I don't intend to
use either till I return to civilization. To-day is the
second day without shaving, and I am very glad to
feel that I have only men in the same stage as
myself to meet, as one feels very dirty and scrubby,
and will continue to do so for the next month at
least, especially as I have had my hair and whiskers
very well cropped, which, if not becoming, is
certainly very convenient.
On Saturday, the 27th,
at 6 o'clock, I went
down to the Dock to see my precious horses embarked,
and found Alfred Christopher had arrived
before me and was superintending their embarkation,
which we managed without any difficulty, and then
drove back to the Camp, where we breakfasted with
Colonel and Mrs. Wardrop, and at 10 a.m. embarked
in the Steamer "Umballa" for Kurrachee. At the
embarking place several of my friends had come to
see me off, and General Aitchison, Colonel Maude,
and Colonel Wardrop came off to the ship with me
and remained until we were going to sail. On board,
besides myself, there is Colonel Anderson, who commands
one of the Native Infantry Regiments at Kandahar,
returning from sick leave in England; Captain
Cooke-Collis, who is going up as Brigade Major of
one of the Infantry Brigades; and a young gunner
called Fox going to join his Battery at Kandahar.
We can just make up a quiet rubber at Whist, which
is an advantage, as if we can we intend to travel together
all the way. There are only two steamers in
the week from Bombay to Kurrachee—one on Tuesday
which goes direct to Kurrachee in sixty hours (the
distance being under 600 miles), and the one leaving
on Saturday which calls in at four Ports on the way,
and takes seventy-two hours. We shall, therefore,
not be at Kurrachee till Tuesday in the forenoon,
not in time, I fear, to get off by that evening's train
for "Sibi." I was rather afraid we were going to
|By sea to Kurrachee.|
have bad weather, but it was very fairly smooth for
the first twelve hours after leaving Bombay, but
early this morning, Sunday, 28th March, the wind
freshened a good deal, and I found it difficult to get
through my dressing, and considered it advisable not
to attempt to come down to Breakfast, but to satisfy
myself with a frugal meal of toast and iced water on
deck. We have just been into the little Port of
Verawul where we dropped our mails and some
passengers (natives), and are now on our way to
another small place (Porebunder) where we shall be
in an hour or so. The sea is calmer again, I am glad
to say, so I have been able to manage to write. We
hear that the heat in Sind, and until one gets into the
highlands near Quetta, is very great, or, at least, was
so by the latest accounts, but as it is still rather early
for very great heat even in those parts, I hope it may
have cooled down a bit before we arrive. I am a little
bit nervous for fear I should be stopped at Sibi to
superintend the forward movement of troops from
that place. General Burrows is now there, and has
been there for the last six weeks, and he may have
arranged to move forward on my arrival, leaving
me there till all the troops are passed (about a
fortnight later). I hope this will not be the case,
but I shall not be surprised if it is, as he has had
his share of the work there, especially as Sibi (pronounced
See-bee) is, I am told, the most awful place
for heat, flies, dust and wretchedness in the whole
country.
March 29th.
—Tolerably smooth sea, but very
warm; called in at a small Port called Mandavie
where we dropped a number of native passengers,
and took in several more. As the place is most
uninteresting, and the sun was very hot, we did not
attempt to land.
March 30th.
—A very rough time last night and
this morning, consequent on a strong head wind
and confused sea, and I was very glad when we
steamed into Kurrachee Harbour about 12 o'clock
noon. A telegram just received says I am to go
straight on to Kandahar.
Kurrachee, March 30th, 1880.
—On arriving at
Kurrachee the first object was to get the horses on
shore, which was very successfully managed, and we
had the satisfaction of seeing the whole lot safely
landed without any ill results from the Journey, or
the 18 hours of heavy weather which they had gone
through before reaching Kurrachee. Knowing that
William French was busy packing for a start with us
the following evening, I was anxious, if possible, to
avoid giving him the trouble of putting me up, so
went to the two hotels to try and get a room for the
night, but, failing to get into either, I had to drive
to William French's and ask shelter from him, and
found him in great confusion, but he was able to
give me an empty room in which I set up my camp
bed, table, and chair, and made myself very
comfortable. What I cared much more for than a
room for myself (viz., loose boxes for my horses), he
was able to give me, and this allowed of the poor
beasts getting a good roll and a rest after their 72
hours of standing on board ship, and preparatory to
36 very uncomfortable hours in the railway the next
day. The Royal Artillery Mess was close at hand,
so I had everything necessary in the eating and
drinking way without trouble. Kurrachee was less
hot than I expected to find it, and the night was
actually cold.
Leave Kurrachee.
Wednesday, 31st March.
—The journey from
Bombay to Kurrachee by sea may be looked on as
the first stage on the way to Kandahar, the second
being the railway journey from Kurrachee to Sibi,
a distance of about 530 miles. Till quite lately only
a portion of this distance could be done by rail,
which last October only went to Sukkur, leaving 131
miles of desolate desert, for the most part, to be
traversed on horseback. In October last it was
decided to begin the railway to Kandahar, and the
work was put in the hands of Sir Richard Temple
(assisted of course by skilled engineers), who was
told that no money or exertions were to be spared
to complete the line as far as Sibi, so as to avoid the
awful journey of nearly 100 miles across a sandy
desert, without water and without shade. Owing to
the extraordinary energy displayed a feat was
accomplished which, I believe, has never been
approached; as a train drawn by an engine entered
Sibi, 131 miles from the junction with the old line,
in 101 days from the date on which the first sod was
turned, being at the rate of 1⅓ miles of line each
day. No one who has not had to cross the great
Cutchi Desert, which lies between Jacobabad and
Sibi, can, I believe, imagine what a terrible journey
it was, but the number of men and animals who
have died of thirst and heat in trying to cross it,
proves very clearly the horrors of the journey. Now
one goes through it in a comfortable first-class
carriage during the night, and the discomfort and
danger is a thing of the past. The train for Sibi
leaves Kurrachee at 6 p.m., at which hour our party
of the "Umballa," reinforced by William French
and his horse, left for the second stage of our journey.
The evening and night was fairly cool, and we all
slept very well all night, having passed by Hyderabad
about midnight, and not waking until we were 200
miles on our way.
By rail to Sibi.
April 1st.
—We had a very fair breakfast at one
of the refreshment-rooms, and were fortunate enough
to have a moderately cool day. The railway strikes
the River Indus at Kotree, opposite Hyderabad, and
runs parallel with the river to Sukkur, about 10
miles short of which places, at a station called Ruk,
we turned off on to the branch line for Sibi, which,
passing through Shikarpore, reaches Jacobabad in
about 36 miles from the junction. The whole of
Sind, for want of water, is a desolate, dusty waste,
with but few trees, but the whole country covered
with a low underwood which would possibly be
green were it not for the heavy coat of dust which
is always on it. There is little or no cultivation,
except where water is obtainable from canals or
wells, and consequently there are but few houses or
villages, and one may go for miles without seeing a
living creature. Even birds seem to think Sind too
dreadful a place to live in. Shikarpore, which is
a very large village, is a remarkable place, as poor
and squalid as it looks it is inhabited by some of
the richest men in India, native bankers, who trade
with all parts of the world, having their correspondents
in every great city in Europe, Asia, and
America; and in this dirty village, in the middle of
the jungles of Sind, an order for £1,000 could be
obtained on London, Paris, St. Petersburg, or New
York without the slightest difficulty. Shikarpore
used in past days to be the great mart to which all
the merchandise of Central Asia came, and from
there was passed on, on the backs of camels, to
Calcutta and Bombay, and from there to Europe and
America. A railway to Kandahar will, of course,
ruin Shikarpore, and even now it has begun to lose
its importance. 26 miles beyond Shikarpore we
came to Jacobabad (or the town of Jacob), so named
after General Jacob, an officer of the Bombay Army,
who, some 40 years ago, established a military
station at the place which was then known as Khanpur,
since which time 3 Native Cavalry Regiments and
1 Native Infantry Regiment has always been kept at
Jacobabad, as a frontier station, to keep the wild
tribes which live in the surrounding hills in order.
At Jacobabad we were met by the officer commanding
who had prepared dinner for us, which, with a
bottle of champagne, we found very refreshing, after
24 hours of dust and heat in the train. At half-past
eight o'clock, p.m., we started again, and nine miles
from Jacobabad entered on the Kutchi Desert which
proved on this occasion to be singularly cool and
pleasant, and we all slept with much satisfaction until
half-past four, a.m., on the 2nd April (Friday) when
we were woke up by the cry of "Sibi," "Sibi," to
which we added "change here for Quetta and
Kandahar." It was quite cold when we arrived, and
we kept under our rugs and blankets until it began
to get light, when we turned out to collect our
things, and get the horses disembarked. The line
goes on to about 8 miles from Sibi to a place
called the Nari Gorge (you will see the Nari River
on the map), but as this would take us several miles
to the right of the direct road to Quetta, and into
very wild and dangerous country, travellers are
required to get out at Sibi and follow the more
circuitous route by the Bolan Pass to Quetta. The
|Sibi described.|
first view of Sibi is not exhilarating. Sandhills everywhere,
not a blade of grass, not a tree, and not a
drop of water. A few tents here and there, huge
piles of bags full of grain, a string of camels, or a
procession of creaking carts, drawn by two bullocks
each, make up a scene which, curious by itself, is
made still more odd by the sight of railway engines
moving about, and all the ordinary work of a railway
station going on, as it were, in the midst of a
desert. A little further on, at the back of one of
the sandhills, we came to the tent of my friend
General Burrows, who is commanding here, and
hospitably arranged to put up William French
and me, and feed us while we are here. I suppose
it is hardly necessary to say that putting up in this
part of the world does not mean a nicely furnished
bed-room and a comfortable sitting-room, and all the
luxuries of the season, but, even so, it means a good
deal. First of all a tub of water and lots of soap,
a cup of tea, and a right to put your camp bed
either in the tent, or outside of it, according as the
night proves hot or cold. At present the heat at
Sibi during the day in tents is unbearable, and so all
the Europeans in the place congregate in a small
three-roomed shed, which has been built for the
purpose, and in which a rough kind of mess is kept
for all comers. I am writing in this place now
(as tents won't be possible till five o'clock in the
evening), and writing under the circumstances is not
very easy, which must be my excuse for any shortcomings
in to-day's portion of my journal. On
arrival here we heard that an officer had been set on
by a tribe, supposed up to this time to have been
friendly, and had been killed. This officer is Captain
Howe Showers, who was A.D.C. to his father,
General Showers, when I was A.A.G. at Calcutta, in
1865-66. It appears that he was passing through
a part of the country to the right of the road from
Sibi to Quetta, and thinking it quite safe had reduced
his escort from 50 Native Cavalry (of an
irregular levy he had just raised) to 12 or 15 men.
At a spot in the hills called Chappur the party were
fired on by a large party of men, who had up to
that moment been concealed in the rocks. At the
first volley Showers fell dead, as did also two of his
men, and the remainder immediately retired, which
could not be wondered at, seeing they were really no
better men (probably worse) than the much stronger
party who were safely posted in the rocky gorge of the
mountain. We hear by telegraph from Quetta that
one of the
friendly native chiefs succeeded in securing
poor Showers' body and those of his two men, and
is bringing them into Quetta. An avenging force is
to-day being concentrated at Chappur to punish this
treacherous attack, and, I hope, will prove successful.
The operations along this country are in General
Burrows' hands, and he is proceeding there to-morrow,
and as he is receiving good reinforcements
from India, I have no doubt he will quickly mete out
the proper punishment to all concerned; though for
my own part, had I been commanding here, I think I
should not have allowed any attack to be made until
I had some artillery at my disposal, and then only
under my own command, or that of some selected
officer. I think the state of the tribes along these
Marri Hills is such as to cause some anxiety, as
though not powerful for real harm, they are
sufficiently strong to be very mischievous, and by
constant raids and attacks may succeed in frightening
away the workmen on the line of railway now being
pushed on from Nari Gorge through Hurnai to
Gwal. These places will be seen on the map, as also
a place called Thal, or Tull, which is one of the
positions which we hold in some strength. I may as
well mention that a very strong difference of opinion
exists among people who are in a position to judge
as to the proper line for the railway to take from
Sibi to Quetta—one side, led by Sir Richard Temple,
have advocated the line by Nari (I see these places
are not marked on my map, but a place called
Baghao is in much the same line), Harnai, and Gwal,
in preference to the one through the Bolan Pass.
The former is shorter and easier in an engineering
point of view, but it is through a country which, if
not actually hostile, which many say it is, is certainly
unfriendly. The latter, on the contrary, has many
engineering difficulties, but is through a comparatively
safe country. The advocates of the former
route have carried the day, and I fear poor Showers'
death goes some way to prove that those who thought
the other route would be the best in the end were
not very far wrong. I am now sorry that I am not
to take General Burrows' place here, as I think there
will be a good deal to interest one in these parts for
some time. We have settled to march very early
to-morrow morning, and hope to get away from this
so as to be on our new ground and tents pitched
before the sun can make itself felt. The first four
days after leaving Sibi will be hot, but after that we
shall get into a more reasonable temperature. Our
route from here lies through Kirta, Beebee-Nani, and
Sir-i-Bolan, all of which are shown on the map I sent
two mails ago. (The figures on that map, under the
names of places, show their heights above the sea
level in feet).
Sibi—End of the railway.
Friday, 2nd April.
—At Sibi there are enormous
depots of all sorts of commissariat stores, provisions,
and clothing, both for Native and English troops, all
of which have had to be transported great distances,
especially the grain and the clothing, as most of the
former comes from Bengal, and nearly all the latter
from England, or at nearest from Bombay. Thousands
of pounds of grain is daily used to feed the transport
animals who are in thousands—camels, horses, bullocks
(both for carts and packs), ponies and donkeys.
Besides these there are some 2,500 to 3,000 cavalry
and artillery horses, and about 1,000 horses, the property
of officers, to be fed every day, and as there is
little or no cultivation in Afghanistan, some idea may
be formed of the arrangements, the labor, and the
expense which are required to keep this one matter
of the forage supply in working order. Armies
fighting in Europe can expect to draw a good proportion
of their supplies from the country in which
they are operating, but the fact that almost nothing
required by European troops, and very few of the
articles required by native soldiers are to be got in
Afghanistan, renders a war such as that we are now
engaged in, a fearfully difficult and expensive matter.
We dined at the rough camp mess at Sibi at which
15 officers were present, and went to bed (in the open
air) at 9 p.m., as we had to be up at 1 o'clock to pack
our camels for a start at 2 a.m., as we proposed to
march 14 miles to Muskaff.
Preparations for marching.
Saturday, 3rd April.
—I was woke at 1 o'clock,
and after dressing almost in the dark began to have
the camels loaded, but everything was against us.
First of all, for the 6 camels sent for mine and Wm.
French's baggage, only one camel driver appeared,
and he seemed perfectly ignorant of everything
connected with camels, and more especially with
that most delicate of arrangements, the loading of
a camel; and to make matters worse he proved to be
a wild villager from the neighbouring hills, whose
language we could not understand, nor could he
understand us. Then nearly all the ropes and
harness required for the pack saddles were wanting,
and the saddles themselves were of the most antiquated
patterns. After many delays these minor difficulties
were partially overcome, and after at least an hour
spent in vain attempts to load the 6 camels, we had
the proud satisfaction of seeing two of the lot ready
for a start, when a demon entered into the two
loaded animals, who rose from the ground (camels
sit down to be loaded) and kicked the whole of their
loads off. In the first instance this was rather
ludicrous, and we laughed at it, and began again;
but when 4 o'clock came, and daylight (which meant
intense heat) began to appear, and yet not one camel
could be induced to let the loads remain on their
backs, things looked serious, and we despaired of
getting off at all. However, we determined to
make one final effort, and this time were so far
successful that we made a start at 5 a.m., meeting
the rest of our party about a mile out of Sibi, and
heard to our distinct satisfaction that they had been
equally unfortunate, and had only succeeded in
getting off after many failures. The only wonder
was that we got off at all, as it turned out that the
camels had only been purchased two or three days,
and were perfectly untrained. Our satisfaction at
effecting a move was but of short duration, as we
had not gone a mile before half the loads were on
the ground, and had to be repacked again and
again. The sun was by this time too high to allow us
to think of our completing the distance originally
intended, so at 8 o'clock we halted for the day on
the banks of the Nari River, where there is a depot
of transport animals to supply changes of bullocks
for the cart train which passes daily each way
between Sibi and Quetta. To carry this out there
are reliefs of bullocks every 6 or 7 miles, and the
arrangement works with wonderful regularity. We
could not afford time to march only 6 or 7 miles a
day, so could not avail ourselves of the cart train,
but are condemned to the daily trial of loading
camels, than which nothing is more trying to the
temper, I am bound to say. The transport officer at
the halting place was good enough to allow us to
share his hut, and so saved us going into tents in
which the thermometer during the day stood at 120
degrees, and even in our kind friend's hut was over
100 degrees, a heat which is required to be felt to be
understood, as the entire absence of air, except now
and then a hot blast, as if out of a furnace, made it
most oppressive. Towards 6 o'clock it grew wonderfully
|First halt on the march.|
cooler, and at 6.30, when we sat down to
dinner at a table placed in the open, it was quite
delightful. This was the first of our mess, and,
considering we were in the wilds, we did very well,
having some preserved soup, a leg of mutton, and
curry of sardines—I don't, however, recommend the
latter to anyone who is not very hungry and
hopeless of getting anything else—whiskey and
water—very little of the former, and a very bad
quality of the latter—completed the sumptuous
repast. Just as dinner was over a noise was heard
from the line of horses to which we all rushed to find
that Mr. "Selim" (who is a pugnacious sort of
gentleman) had drawn his picket pegs and was doing
his best to completely destroy poor "Rufus," who
being picketed was powerless to retaliate. For
about ten minutes we were afraid we should lose
"Selim" altogether, as the night was dark, and if
he had rushed away into the open plain we should
never have seen him again. Fortunately he was too
anxious to return to finish his fight with Rufus, and
we managed at last to catch him, neither horse
being, wonderful to say, anything the worse. The
fact is the horses are all quite wild after their long
confinement and want of work, and this is a thing
three or four heavy marches will all too quickly
cure. To pay him out for his games, I decided to
give "Selim" the pleasure of carrying me the first
ten miles the following morning, "Akhbar" bringing
me in the last five miles, and so giving "Rufus" an
off day to allow him to recover the effects of his
bites. We turned into bed at 8.30, sleeping, as usual
in these parts, in the open air.
April 4th.
—After several false starts, and many
difficulties in loading the camels, we started at 3.15
a.m. for a 15 miles march, and as I wanted to inspect
the transport and commissariat depots at Muskaff, I
rode on in front with a couple of the men of my
escort (I have a native officer and 20 men of one of
our native cavalry regiments, the Poona Horse, as an
escort to Kandahar), and having a second horse for a
change half way had a very pleasant canter on
"Selim" (the first time I had ridden him), whom I
like very much indeed. The two colonels followed
at a quieter pace, leaving Captain Collis and Mr.
Fox to bring up the rear. It was a lovely morning,
and the road was very nice for cantering, and I
enjoyed the ride and the attending circumstances
very much. After inspecting at Muskaff, I got on my
arab ("Akhbar") and had a good opportunity of
trying his paces, which will be very good, but at
present he is quite raw and untrained, and gives one
plenty to do to watch his antics, which, however, are
all of the purest kind of play, as, like all well-bred
arabs, he is as gentle as possible. The latter part of
the march into Pir-Chokey was very dusty and
extremely uninteresting, and uncommonly hot. I
picked up the colonels (who had passed while I was
looking at the transport and commissariat depots at
|March into Pir-Chokey.|
Muskaff), about two miles from the end of the march,
which we completed at a quarter to 8 o'clock, but it
was past 10 when the baggage came up, the loads
having frequently been thrown by the camels during
the march, so our two young friends who were in
charge arrived thoroughly tired and done up. A
little tea and a rest, however, soon put them right;
and when at 6 o'clock in the evening, when the sun
was setting, we all got a plunge into the Bolan River,
which is a clear and extremely rapid running stream,
we found ourselves as fit as possible, notwithstanding
that the day had been even hotter than the previous
ones. Pir-Chokey is a station established by us
exactly at the mouth of the Bolan (N.B.—1st
syllable
short; 2nd long) Pass as a resting and
feeding place for the transport animals and troops
proceeding up and down. The Bolan Pass is the only
really practicable passage through the range of
mountains which separates India from Beloochistan
and Central Asia, and has been used for ages by the
caravans coming to India from all parts of Asia.
Until we went up by it to Kandahar in 1839, '40,
'41, the road was a mere track through the bed of
the river, and on that occasion we did very little to
improve it, and never dreamt that 40 years later we
should have to make a road practicable for wheeled
carriage through it; but this is what we have done,
and carts now run from Sibi to Quetta and still
further on the road to Kandahar. It must not be,
however, supposed that the road is of the appearance
or quality that people at home would call a road, as
all that has been aimed at is to make a track clear
from stones or serious inequalities along which carts
can go. At Pir-Chokey are stored thousands of
pounds of grain of all sorts, flour, rice, sugar, tea,
potatoes, &c., &c., indeed everything required to
ration both man and beast, and many extras also, as
we were able to obtain from the Government stores
there, on payment, such things as Ropf's concentrated
soups, French preserved vegetables, &c., &c. There
is a shed for the use of officers and a couple for the
men, as there is at nearly all the stages in the Pass,
which is a very good arrangement, as it saves us
pitching tents, and the huts are much cooler than
tents during the day; and as dew or damp are
unknown here everyone sleeps in the open at
night. We were in bed at half-past 8, and I was so
dead tired that I never woke through all the row of
the packing, but had the satisfaction when I woke to
find the camels gone and everything packed. Captain
Collis, my Brigade Major, is very good in this way,
and does a great deal for me, which my orderly
officer would have to do if I had one, and as I might
have had, had General Warre been agreeable and
allowed me to take the officer I wanted.
March out of Pir-Chokey.
April 5th.
—As we had a very long march
(between 19 and 21 miles) we had to move off very
early, the more especially as I had two sets of depots
to inspect on the way; we had let the baggage have
three hours start of us, having sent the native officer
and 16 men with it, keeping only 4 men for ourselves,
as we considered our five selves good for any number
of the cowardly marauders who hang about the Pass,
but who never seem to venture to attack armed
parties, but always to swoop down on one or two
unarmed natives if they get the chance. 500 yards
out of Pir-Chokey we had to ford the Bolan River,
and the winding course it takes may be imagined
from the fact that in the first 10 miles of the march
we forded it 18 times. It is, however, never more
than a couple of feet deep, and from ten to fifty
yards wide. The whole of the road from Pir-Chokey
to Dirwaza (78 miles) is called the Bolan Pass, and
most of the way is properly so called, though there
is a great plain of 20 miles across, which, though
surrounded in the distance by hills, has none of the
appearance of what one understands as a Pass. For
the first 12 miles the road is indeed a pass or
gorge in the mountains, as in places the cliffs
are not more than 60 to 100 yards apart, and
rarely open out to more than 150 to 200 yards
apart. Passing along this in the early morning
with the moon just setting is very striking and
dismal, as the hills, which are very peculiarly
shaped, are very high and abrupt, and are absolutely
bare of vegetation of any kind, except that the banks
of the river are here and there fringed with Pampas
grass and Oleanders, the latter just now in full blow,
and very sweet. It is quite the most desolate,
forsaken scene I have ever witnessed, and the least
enlivening. It is fortunate that the tribes in the
vicinity of the Bolan Pass are fonder of rupees than
of fighting, as they could easily prevent anyone
passing up if they so desired it, but for a consideration
(a very heavy subsidy, I fancy) they agree
not only not to resist our advance, but to act as the
police of the Pass, and so enable us to dispense with
any great strength of soldiers here.—I must digress
for one moment to describe the circumstances under
which I write, so that allowances may be made for
bad writing and stupidity. First of all, I am in a
large tent, permanently pitched, as there is no rest
hut here (Beebee-Nani, April 6th), the thermometer
is at 96°, a gale of wind is howling outside, and
shaking the tent so violently that I watch the poles
with apprehension; everything is gritty with the
clouds of dust that are flying about; the flies, which
are in millions, I should say, are gifted with a
pertinacity which is quite marvellous, and insist on
settling on your nose, or in your eyes or ears; my
four companions are stretched on the ground fast
asleep (I never sleep myself in the day time), and by
some curious fatality have, one and all, established
themselves on their backs, and are snoring most
awfully; and last, but not least, the heat is making
the ink quite thick and preventing it running freely,
and with it my ideas also I fear. I think it will
be acknowledged that any one or two of these drawbacks
would be fair excuses for not doing much
writing, so I hope the lot together will bear me
harmless from criticism now and hereafter.—To
return to my story now: As the sun began to rise
the whole scene changed, and what had seemed
weird and desolate now got a color that made the
scene one that I would not have missed for any
consideration; the effect altogether, of course, of the
beautiful coloring which sunrise always bring with
it in the East, but which rapidly fades as the sun
gets higher. At nine miles from Pir-Chokey I came
to one of the transport stages, which I found in
charge of a sergeant of the 66th Foot, with a guard
of 12 native soldiers; not another European within
ten miles of him on either side. He said it was, of
course, lonely, but he had lots to do, and that all his
spare time was given to fishing in the Bolan River,
which swarms with fish of the most confiding nature,
as they greedily seize any sort of bait, and can even
be caught in the hand at night by the use of a
light—a way of catching fish not quite unknown in
our own part of the world. Five miles further on
I inspected another depot, which is situated at the
end of the first part of the enclosed portion of the
|March into Kirta.|
Pass, after which we descended into the plain or
valley of Kirta, an extensive plain more than 20
miles across, and almost circular in shape, the
mountains rising to a considerable height all round
it. About six miles further ride brought us to the
rest house of Kirta, where we were to put up for the
day, and where, on arriving, I received the agreeable
information that the camel carrying my two small
trunks, which contain every stitch of uniform,
clothing, linen, towels, sheets, socks, warm clothing,
&c.,&c., in fact, everything I possess, except what was
on my back, had fallen down in one of the fords, and
that the two portmanteaus had been well under
water for five minutes at least. The first and only
thing to do was to open the boxes and dry the things
(for which purpose there was no lack of sun, at any
rate), and ascertain the amount of the damage done.
Every single thing was more or less wet, but
fortunately, except my cloth uniform, my few books,
and my stock of writing paper, there was little to
spoil seriously; my patrol jacket had got off
wonderfully, having been well in the centre of one
box, and was only damp, and my other cloth things
had not much suffered, and the rest of the things
(except my paper, books, and papers, which are
ruined) will, I daresay, be all right after they have
been washed and done up. On the whole, I got off
wonderfully well, but it was a great business unpacking
everything, drying them, and then repacking
all again, which, however, I managed to do in a fairly
satisfactory way. At Kirta is another large depot
for the transport and commissariat departments, and
also a rather superior kind of hut for the accommodation
of passers by. The plain of Kirta itself is one
vast scene of desolation, not a tree, or a blade of
grass, and nothing but fine sand, thickly strewn with
round stones of all sizes and forms.
