Under the absolute Amir

On the morning after my arrival, I was walking in the garden when the court interpreter came to tell me that the Amir Sahib had ordered that I was to be favoured with an interview that afternoon. This was my second visit to Kabul, and I was no stranger to the Amir, who had the gift of not forgetting any one he once saw.

The Amir had given orders that I was to be treated with great honour and courtesy, and the house in which I had been given quarters was the new Mihman khana or Guest-house, in which the Amir himself had been stopping until a few days before. It is an extensive square building with large rooms, originally intended for one of the Amir’s summer palaces, and is situated on the outskirts of the new city. An extensive garden surrounds the house, and the whole is enclosed by a high wall, and in one of the walls is a covered gateway, on either side of which are rooms for the use of the outer guard. Outhouses are built on the inner side of the wall for the use of the servants, and at the end of the outhouses is the kitchen, and adjoining that the hamam (Turkish bath), without which, no large house in Kabul is considered complete. It was in this hamam that I had the day before enjoyed the first comfortable bath since leaving Kandahar.

The hamam consists of two rooms, one opening into the other, with domed roofs, the floors flagged with large stone slabs, and the ceilings and walls plastered with cement. The rooms are heated from a fireplace built outside, the flue from which branches out under the inner chamber, and up through the walls of the outer one. The wall at the fireplace end of the inner chamber is double, and the intervening space is occupied by two cisterns, the one for hot water being immediately over the fire, and the other for cold water alongside it, and pipes fitted with taps convey the water to the inner room. The inner chamber is the hot one, and is used for ablutions, while the outer one is for cooling down in and dressing. It is not advisable to spend too much time in these hamams, as the air, for want of proper ventilation, is rather foul, and also, as the stone flags are not too well jointed, the gases from the fire get in, so that a prolonged visit generally ends in a bad headache. They are, nevertheless, a great convenience in the cold weather, which is much more severe than the average English winter, but they take about two days’ firing to get properly heated, and must be fired every day if wanted for regular use. Once heated, however, it requires but little fuel to keep the temperature up.

Accompanied by the translator, I rode off soon after midday to keep the appointment made by the Amir, but about halfway to the palace we were met by a messenger bringing a note. It was from the Amir, saying, that as he had risen late, he would not be able to see me at the appointed time, and therefore told me to come an hour later. To have a letter putting off the appointment to a later hour is an extreme mark of honour, for usually when one is ordered to be present at an appointed time, one has to sit and wait if the Amir is not ready to receive.

I spent the intervening hour in riding about the streets and roads on the outskirts of the city, where the palaces of the Amir and princes are situated, and where the officials and courtiers and others have their houses and gardens. This part, which lies to the north-west of the old city, is generally called Deh Afghanan, from a small village of Afghan people which lies in that direction; and here the roads are broad and well laid out, but at that time they were not metalled, and after rain or snow, the horses’ feet sank inches deep in mud and slush, and pedestrians had to walk warily. At the present time the principal roads round Kabul are metalled, and riding or walking is not the mud-besplashing process it once was.

The people met with were unwashed and unkempt in appearance. Even those who were apparently high in rank, and came along the road on horseback, with five or six servants running beside them, looked as though they had washed their faces just before leaving the house, and had forgotten to wash their necks. The clean, fresh look of those who bathe regularly was missing, and, although I found afterwards that the better classes bathe but once a week or less, and the others once in a few months, it may, perhaps, be the dark sallow skin of the neck which gives the unwashed appearance. Also the dress of the people being part English and part Afghan, and their habit of putting on a clean shirt once a week only adds to the appearance of untidyness, and makes them look as though a good all-over scrubbing would do them good.

The Amir was stopping in the Boistan Serai, a small palace built outside the gardens which surround the fortified palace of Arak, and alongside the Queen-Sultana’s palace, which is called the Gulistan Serai. Boistan and Gulistan both signify garden, the translation of the former being “place of scents,” and the latter, “place of flowers.” Kabul itself might be termed “boistan” in another sense, which a ride through its bazars would indicate.

On my arrival, with the interpreter, at the gate of the palace, the captain of the guard there conducted us to an inner court, where we waited while the Amir was informed by the officer on duty that I was present; and on the Amir ordering that I was to be admitted, they conducted me into his presence.

On entering the audience chamber I saw the Amir seated on the side of the couch he used as a bed. He was dressed in an English grey tweed suit, and on his head was the Afghan silk fez, with the royal diamond star at the side of it. The Amir suffered a good deal from gout, and preferred the side of his bed for sitting on, as being more comfortable than a chair, and also, if not feeling well, he was able to stretch himself on the bed, and rest himself, without the trouble of first getting up from a chair.

In appearance the Amir looked about forty-five years of age, although nearer sixty, and this was due to his hair and beard being died black, making him look younger than he was. In person he was very stout and broad, with a rather long body, and short legs. His eyes were very dark, almost black, and looked out from under his heavy brows with quick, keen glances, while in complexion he was sallow, but his skin was not darker than the average Portuguese. The Amir had a full set of false teeth, and these he would take out at times and polish with his handkerchief, while continuing to speak, but the difference in his pronunciation made it difficult to follow him. He once handed his teeth to me to examine, and explained that one of his own men had made them for him, having learnt the art from an English dentist.

Around the Amir were slave boys ready to attend his least want, and in front of him, standing round about the room, were officers and officials, and at the door were two men of the royal bodyguard with bayonets fixed, while the captain of the guard, carrying an unsheathed sword, stood by them.

The audience chamber was a large one, and the floor was covered with fine Persian carpets, but it was bare of furniture, save the velvet-covered armchairs and small round-topped tables which were ranged at intervals along the wall round the room. On the walls were oil paintings representing landscapes only, for figure paintings are not allowed in a room where prayers are said, and this applies to all rooms, for Mussulmans say their prayers wherever they may happen to be, and the reason for this is, they say, that to pray before a pictured figure would give the appearance of idolatry.

Walking up the durbar room I stood before the Amir, and bowed; and he asked, according to the usual greeting, if I was well, and took off his glove to shake hands (the gout in his right hand necessitated his wearing a glove in cold weather), saying that it was not etiquette among the English to shake hands with gloves on, and then, after the many salutations usual in Persian, he told me to be seated, and thereafter talked to me for several hours, and told me anecdotes of his career and life in Russia, and generally showed me honour in the gracious courtly manner he could so well assume when it pleased him.

After sitting down, a small table was placed near me, and tea, fruit, and cigarettes were brought in. My tea was served in a Russian cup, which consisted of a glass tumbler fixed in a gold holder with handle, and carried on a gold saucer, a fashion the Amir had adopted from the Russians.

When with the Amir on an occasion like this, it was unnecessary to talk one’s self. The Amir did all the talking, and all he required of one was to listen and answer shortly, except when some matter required full explanation, and then he would listen very attentively. In relating anything humorous he would laugh very heartily, sometimes rolling on his bed, but, whether serious or laughing, the Amir was always the king, and there was that about him which forbade any one taking advantage of his humour. When roused to anger his face became drawn, and his teeth would show until he looked wolfish, and then he hissed words rather than spoke them, and there were few of those before him who did not tremble when he was in that mood, for it was then that the least fault involved some horrible punishment. It was also in these moods that the Amir would remember the former offences of those whom he had marked down for punishment, and he would take advantage of any trifling neglect of duty or other small offence to inflict a heavy punishment, so that the feelings of those present on these occasions may be imagined, for none knew what the Amir had in his mind against them on account of former misdemeanours.

When in the Amir’s presence no one ever ventured to speak unless asked a question, or else they caught his eye and received an inquiring look and the upward nod of interrogation characteristic of him. The page-boys moved about quietly and noiselessly in the execution of their duty, coming in and going out as they wished, but always careful that several of their number remained near the Amir.

While I was with the Amir, Sirdar Nasrullah Khan, whom I had accompanied from London, came in, and, after salaaming his father, was told to take a chair. A chair was always offered to either of his elder sons when they came to visit him, as they did most days if only for a short time, excepting on those occasions when they were in disgrace or the Amir in a bad humour, and then they were not asked to take a seat, and had to remain standing. When the younger princes visited him they would stand behind his chair or couch and act as the ordinary page-boys did, handing him anything he wanted, and waiting on him generally. When the princes wanted to go away they would again salaam their father and walk out, no permission being asked or required.

To be allowed to sit in the Amir’s presence is a sign of great favour and an honour accorded to few, and chiefs and high officials when asked to sit down, would do so on the floor, sitting with their backs against the wall, and if many were present they would sit in a line along the wall on either side of the Amir, those highest in rank or favour being nearest him.

After spending some hours with the Amir, I asked permission to leave, and as I stood up to go he told me I was to come to him the next day, and very often after that, for he wished to see much of me. His asking me to come often was another mark of extreme honour, and showed that I enjoyed great favour, and there is nothing an ambitious man in that country covets so much as being allowed often in the Amir’s presence, and there is a good deal of scheming done to be able to do so. For one thing, it is a sign of the highest favour and confidence, and for another all men regard that man as one to be fawned on and flattered; and although he may be hated by the envious, he is also feared, and becomes a man of consequence.

The next two months or so I spent in the Mihman khana (Guest-house), occupying myself in preparing a scheme for the development of the resources of the country, which the Amir had asked me to write. He was good enough to give me very high praise for it, but very few of the proposals embodied in the scheme were carried out. I also rode a good deal about the surrounding country, and through the bazars of the city, for there is little else to do as a means of recreation.

Kabul is situated in the midst of a large valley, surrounded with mountains at distances varying from fifteen to twenty miles. The small ranges of hills, which rise up out of the plain here and there, give a broken-up appearance to the country, so that the whole of the valley is not discernible except from a height. One of these ranges, the Sher Darwaza (Lion of the gate), is immediately south of the city, and on the west rise the Asman Heights. Between the two the Kabul river flows, coming from the south-west. Along the crest of the heights is an old wall, mostly in ruins, and built in the usual way of mud and stone. It follows the undulations of the summits, and running down to the pass through which the river flows, it rises up again and winds along the heights on the opposite side. Formerly, the wall crossed the river by means of a brick bridge, but there is nothing to be seen of the bridge now except the ruined abutments. This wall was built many years ago as a protection against the raids of the wild tribes inhabiting the country south-west of Kabul, who frequently fell upon the city in great numbers, putting the people to the sword and carrying off all the loot they could get, including women and cattle, both of which are looked upon in much the same light in Afghanistan.

The country round Kabul is well cultivated, and as there is little rainfall irrigation is resorted to for watering the crops. Trees have of late years been planted along most of the roads leading from the city, and some are to be seen in the walled-in gardens which dot the plain here and there, but on the hills round about the absence of trees and vegetation makes them look very bare and desolate by contrast.

The city contains some hundred and fifty to a hundred and sixty thousand inhabitants, and, like all other cities in the country, is walled-in. On the north-west side the city has overgrown itself, and here the palaces of the Amir and princes and houses of the officials and well-to-do people are built. Deh Afghanan, which gives its name to the new portion of the city, also lies on this side, and is yearly growing larger, for all who can leave the old portion of the city do so, and build houses and live in the fashionable quarter.

The streets of the city are narrow and winding, and are mostly paved with round cobble stones of varying sizes and badly laid, and in the interstices between the stones a horse sometimes gets its hoof and lames itself. The roadways are sloped from the houses on either side towards the centre for the purpose of drainage, and refuse is thrown out into the street from the houses, and lies where it falls and rots, so that the stench on occasions when there is little wind is particularly trying.

The houses and shops are built of sun-dried brick and clay, with flat roofs formed of timbers stretching from wall to wall which are covered with grass mats, over which a thick layer of clay is laid. The floors of the rooms are of the same materials, and the houses are small and packed close together. The upper stories of the houses in the wider bazars jut out over the streets, the ends of the overhanging beams being supported by wooden struts. In the narrower streets the upper stories cover the road entirely, forming dark crooked passages of unpleasant odour through which it is best to pick one’s way with a light. The widest bazars are about fifteen feet in width, and the narrowest about four feet, and as pack horses and camels carrying loads are to be met with all over the city, it is often a matter of difficulty to avoid being swept out of the saddle when riding past them. The strings of loaded camels are worse than the pack-horses in this respect, for the camel has no thought for others, and sticks to the middle of the street, its load projecting far on either side, and necessitating a horseman stretching himself flat along the back of his horse to get past, and it is in the narrowest part of a bazar that one meets these obstructions more often than not.

Streams of water led from a higher level up the river run alongside the street through most of the bazars for the use of the inhabitants. The water is good enough where it enters the city, but as it goes on it gathers impurities of all sorts. Refuse and filth from the houses find their way into it, people sit and wash themselves in it, and dead bodies, too, are washed in the same stream without thought of the disease which caused death. By the time the water reaches the Bala Hisar side of the city its quality may be imagined, and yet this is the water the inhabitants have to use for drinking and cooking purposes. In cholera and other epidemics it is in that portion of the city which the water reaches last where the disease rages most, and no doubt it is the washing of the bodies of people dead of the disease in the same water used by others for drinking which accounts for a good deal of the spread and long stay of those epidemics which visit Kabul periodically and carry off so many thousands of its inhabitants.

Shortly before Amir Abdur Rahman’s death he instituted a system of latrines in the city with donkeys to carry away the soil, selling the latter to those cultivators who required it. This did much to sweeten the city, but as all private houses could not be included in the scheme because only the larger houses have refuse-shoots built up against the outside wall whence the soil could be carried away, and no strange man may enter a house where women are, there was still a good deal left to be desired. The present Amir, during the cholera epidemic of 1903, had all the streets of the city swept and cleaned daily by an army of sweepers, and this was a step in the right direction, but with the necessity for cleanliness removed orientals soon fall back into their happy-go-lucky habits.

With the quantity of refuse thrown out of some thirty thousand houses daily the city of Kabul would soon become impossible to live in, but for the scavenging work done by the dogs and crows, who are the unconscious remedy of the evil, and prevent the city becoming uninhabitable. I was told that one of the former Amirs had all bazar dogs killed, and the occasion was remembered, because soon afterwards a bad epidemic of cholera visited the city. The present Amir also gave orders for all bazar dogs to be killed, and the bulk of them were despatched, and then a few months later the cholera epidemic of 1903 broke out and was noted for its virulence.