The Romance of Modern Sieges

A French officer of Engineers, who was very badly wounded, kindly lent the Colonel some of the professional books which were supplied to him. Many were works which he had never been able to procure. Much pleasure and instruction did he derive from their perusal. He found out that the French Engineers were supplied with them by the Government, and their Generals also with the best maps of the country.

One day the Colonel was called to the door of the ward by a French officer, who exclaimed, as he pointed to a large convoy of English transports coming in under full sail: “Voilà les fiacres qui viennent nous chercher!” (“There are the cabs coming to fetch us.”) It was a most cheering and beautiful sight – the cabs that were sent to fetch us home!

When Colonel Jones was told, shortly after, that he was no longer a prisoner, he began to look round for the best sword in the castle to replace the one which that rude French Captain had taken from him.

He discovered a handsome sabre belonging to a wounded staff-officer, so he sent and desired that it might be taken down from the place where it was hanging, as he wanted such a weapon.

“I have it still by me. It was the only sword I wore until the end of the war, and often, when at the outposts with a flag of truce, have I seen the French officers regard the eagles on the belt with anything but a gratified look.

“In 1815 I was quartered at Paris, being engineer in charge of the fortifications on Mont-Martre. There I frequently saw several of the St. Sebastian officers, and from my old friend the Chirurgien-Major I received many visits.

“We both agreed that, though the tables were turned, our present position was far more agreeable than when our acquaintance began in St. Sebastian.”

From Muswell’s “Peninsular Sketches.” Henry Colburn, publisher.

CHAPTER VII

JELLALABAD (1842)

Position of the town – Sale’s brigade rebuilds the defences – A sortie – Bad news – A queer noise – A ruse that did not succeed – The only survivor comes in – Story of a massacre – The earthquake – The walls are down – Are rebuilt – English magic – Pollock comes – Fight outside – The peril of Lady Sale.

In November, 1841, the English Resident at the Afghan Court of Cabul was treacherously assassinated. General Elphinstone, who was left in command of the English troops, being in feeble health, attempted to leave the country with his 4,500 troops and three times that number of camp followers. On the 11th of March, 1842, Akbar Khan with a large army attacked General Sale at Jellalabad.

Jellalabad is a walled town on the right bank of the Cabul River. The upper end of the valley is very fertile and picturesque, studded with forts and villages, but all round the city it is sandy and arid. Snow mountains close in the valley on all sides.

South of Jellalabad, at a distance of 1,200 yards, is a low range of limestone hills, and on the south-west other low hills command the town at 200 yards’ distance. All round the walls were houses, mosques, old forts, gardens, and trees – in fact, every species of cover that an enemy could desire.

The walls of the town were 2,100 yards in extent, all in ruinous condition, and in many places not more than 9 feet high, and easily scaled. Through breaches in the wall laden cattle and droves of asses went in and out daily.

Into this town on the evening of the 12th of November, 1841, wearied, footsore, hungry, short of ammunition, Sale’s brigade entered, to undertake the desperate task of defending it against the whole power of the country, the people of which not only hated us as invaders, but regarded us as infidels to be rooted out.

At a distance of 600 miles from our own frontier, with the formidable defiles of the Khyber Pass to cross, what would be our condition if Runjeet Sing should refuse to allow another army to traverse his territories?

In the meantime these ruinous walls were better than the open plain; so, after viewing the fortifications, Sale marched the brigade in, and the inhabitants fled out at the other side as we entered.

It was decided to hold the whole town and try to make it defensible. Our supply of provisions was so low that the troops had to be put on half, and the camp followers on quarter, rations. As to ammunition, we had only 120 rounds per man. We set to work and collected grain, flour, pulse, and food of all sorts which had been left behind, and in a few hours supplies for several days had been gathered in.

As parts of the walls had no parapets and the sentries were quite exposed, hundreds of camel saddles were ranged, two deep and two high, for the sentries to kneel behind.

The next day many thousands of the enemy came swarming round and set fire to the grass huts and sheds on the eastern side. Some of them seemed to be bent on getting into a small mosque near the town, so a party of sappers, under Major Broadfoot, were sent to see what it contained.

They discovered a quantity of carbine ammunition, which proved to our men a timely and welcome supply. From dusk till midnight they kept firing on our sentries with wild yells. Then they withdrew, and the troops could snatch some rest.

At early dawn Sale determined on a sortie, and all were aroused without sound of bugle. Seven hundred infantry and two guns, commanded by Colonel Monteath, were ordered to sally out at sunrise and attack the Afghans. There were some 6,000 Afghans waiting to meet them in the rocky hills at the south-west angle of the city, but they did not resist long, and the cavalry rolled them over and pursued the fugitives, while Abbot’s guns ploughed through them wherever they massed together.

By ten o’clock it was all over. The panic was so great that they deserted the forts, and we secured all the grain and fodder.

Two great results followed this fortunate victory: it gave the garrison a little breathing-time, and we had a few days of uninterrupted quiet to repair our walls and destroy cover.

The people of the valley now adopted the usual Oriental policy of trying to keep well with both parties, and sent in donkey-loads of flour, wheat, etc.

Working parties were told off to clear away the rubbish, to destroy houses outside, and to build parapets on the walls; for with the enemy’s marksmen so near, no one could look over the walls or show a cap without getting a shot through it.

“Jellalabad” means “the abode of splendour,” but our men found it squalid and mean. There were two main streets, crossing each other at right angles; the rest were narrow, filthy lanes. The mountain tribes have fair complexions and the Grecian type of face. They are believed to be the descendants of the Greeks left by Alexander the Great. All their implements and household utensils are totally different from those used by the Afghans.

As soon as the enemy was driven off by our sortie the troops set to work on the defences. No one was allowed to be idle. Officers and men, with spade, pickaxe, bill-hook, or mining tools in hand – all were at work from daybreak to sunset.

Parties of the enemy hovered about, but never dared to molest us. Strong detachments of cavalry were sent out every day to protect our grass-cutters.

On the 21st of November the garrison received bad news. The little fort of Pesh Bolak (half-way between Jellalabad and the Khyber) had had to be evacuated, and Captain Ferris had been seen going over the mountains away to Peshawar in hasty retreat.

Then from Cabul they heard that our troops there were shut up by the insurgents in their fortified cantonment, that there was a general rising of the whole country, and the roads were closed against messengers.

Every night now parties of the enemy used to creep round and fire at our sentries. At twelve o’clock on the night of the 28th there was a tremendous report, like the firing of a heavy gun. The alarm was sounded, and in two minutes every man was at his post. Seaton was Captain of the day, so he hurried off to learn what all the row was about. He found Sale and his staff in the west gate, looking earnestly in the direction of the enemy, and discussing with the heroic Havelock the probabilities of an attack. It was a bright moonlight night; everything visible near or far. All at once some one called out:

“Here they come, sir! Don’t you see those two dark columns of men 500 yards off?”

Ah! yes. Every one saw them clearly enough.

“I looked a little, and then laughed right out. The General called to me in his short, sharp way:

“‘Seaton, what is it, sir?’

“‘General, where is the back wall of the old fort?’

“‘Eh! eh! what! what!’ said he testily.

“‘Why, General, you sent me out yesterday to destroy the back wall of that old fort behind which the enemy used to muster. The clay was too hard for us, so, as the wall was just over a sunk road, and the bank below the wall soft, I threw a dam across the lower part of the road and turned in yon little stream. I guess it has softened the bank, and the wall has fallen with a slap into the water and produced the explosion. The columns of men are only the shadows of the north and south walls.’ So we all had a hearty laugh.”

Seaton was on guard every third day. Though the duty was hard, it was comparatively a day of rest. During the night officers visited the guards and sentries every two hours, and made the sentries report everything they had seen or heard. They patrolled the streets, too, every two hours, and the picket in the centre of the town sent patrols to each gate every hour during the night. Every day, when not on special duty, he went out with a large working party to destroy the old walls and houses outside the town, to fell and cut up the trees, and to bring them in for firewood.

The enemy had some capital marksmen, and several of our men were shot through the loopholes. Sale now thought it time to put a stop to this, for they cut off our supplies and we had only thirty days’ food in store. So he quietly waited until noon, when the enemy would be thinking more of food than fighting, and a column of 1,100 infantry was formed in the west street. All the cavalry that could be mustered, with two of Abbott’s guns, assembled in the south street. They had a tough job at first. The Afghans stood bravely and poured in a heavy fire; but the moment the cavalry and guns appeared on the plain clear of Piper’s Hill the whole body of the enemy fled in every direction. Many were drowned in the river.

During the pursuit Captain Oldfield, who commanded the cavalry, as he galloped up to a party of the fugitives, saw one man suddenly stop, throw off his turban, tear off his clothes, wrap his waist-cloth round his loins and attempt to personate a Hindoo, calling out, “Shah bash, Angrèz!” (“Well done, English!”). But our troopers were not to be deceived: the Hindoo gentleman was instantly cut down.

Doubtless if the Afghans had possessed the needful tools they might have succeeded in their plan of cooping us in and starving us out.

It was to Major Broadfoot’s firmness and foresight that the brigade was mainly indebted for its honour and safety. When they were first sent out, Broadfoot was ordered to proceed without his tools. This he respectfully but firmly declined to do, and by his manly representations he carried his point, and was allowed to take them.

They returned at dusk, very hungry and tired. Our loss had been small, our gain great, and a further result was that provisions at once began to flow in. People flocked to the gates to sell flour, grain, and vegetables. But the officers were all so poor that very few of them could purchase anything. The soldiers and camp-followers were still worse off. The commissariat officer had now six weeks’ food in store, but would the treasure-chest hold out? Copper coinage had nearly disappeared.

The New Year, 1842, opened ominously, and brought more evil tidings. A letter from Cabul, from Pottinger, told them of the murder of the Envoy, that Ghusnee was besieged, and the whole country in insurrection.

But our garrison was not dismayed. All scouted the idea of any great disaster happening to our troops at Cabul, and our works were pushed on with increased vigour. Provisions kept coming in, and the surplus was carefully stored.

On the 9th of January a letter from General Elphinstone was brought in by a horseman, ordering Sale to retire with his brigade to Peshawar.

It was a crushing, humiliating blow, spreading a gloom over every heart; but when Sale’s determination was made known – to hold Jellalabad until the Cabul force arrived – the men’s confidence in their commander was greater than ever.

The greatest harmony existed between the European and native soldiers, and there was but one mind in the garrison – to defy the Afghans and to redeem as far as possible the reverses of the Cabul force. They had no money, they were short of ammunition, and had not too much food; but there was no thought of giving way.

On the 13th of January Seaton was on guard at the south gate when, a little after twelve o’clock, some one came rushing along the passage leading to the guardroom. The door was burst open, and Lieutenant B – threw himself into Seaton’s arms, exclaiming:

“My God, Seaton! the whole of the Cabul army has been destroyed!”

“What! man, are you mad? The whole army?”

“All but one – Dr. Brydon! We saw from the top of the gateway a man riding on an old pony. He seemed to be wounded; he was bending over the pommel. We sent two horsemen out to bring him in – it was Dr. Brydon. He could not speak at first. Then he murmured: ‘The only survivor of Cabul army! – all killed.’”

After thinking this over in silence for a minute or two, they went outside and saw Sale and his staff at the Cabul gate hoisting up the colours, a sign to any poor fugitive who might have escaped. A hearty cheer went up as they looked on their country’s glorious colours. Their spirits were still high.

Instantly the cavalry rode out. About four miles from Jellalabad they found the bodies of three of Brydon’s companions – Lieutenant Harper, Collyer, and Hopkins – all terribly mangled.

At night lights were hung out over the Cabul gate, and two buglers were put on duty in the south-west bastion to sound the advance every quarter of an hour, in hope that some poor fugitive might hear it and be saved.

“The terrible wailing sound of those bugles I shall never forget,” says Seaton. “It was a dirge for our slaughtered soldiers, and had a most mournful and depressing effect.” Dr. Brydon’s tale struck horror into the hearts of all who heard it, but mingled with the sorrow and pity came a fierce desire for vengeance. Little was said, but the stern looks of the soldiers, the set teeth, and the clenched hands, showed how deep was the feeling that had been stirred, and how stern the vow registered in each man’s heart.

On the 19th a servant of Captain Bazette came in, and on the 30th a Goorkah. On the 31st they had the pleasure of welcoming another white face – a sergeant-major. From the accounts of the sergeant they gathered many particulars of this tragedy – how, after the murder of our Envoy, General Elphinstone agreed to evacuate the country and retire with the whole of his force, Akbar, on his part, undertaking to escort the Cabul force and guarantee it from attack; how the Afghans rushed into our cantonments, even before the rear of the British force had got outside the walls, and began their plundering; how our men were shot down in the Khoord Cabul Pass; how Akbar pretended he could not control his men, and advised the English officers to surrender to him; how the native soldiers, chilled to death in the snow, went over to the enemy in hundreds.

The sergeant said in their excuse: “I can’t blame the natives. I myself was born in a cold climate. I was well clad, yet my sufferings from the cold were terrible: my fingers were frost-bitten, and all my joints were sore. Why, sir, in the next pass the Afghans, after slaughtering our men till they were tired, stripped hundreds of poor Hindoos stark naked and left them there to die in the cold.”

Stories such as these only spurred on the garrison of Jellalabad to greater exertion, for, as they would have now to face Akbar Khan and all his warriors, on them devolved the task of redeeming our country’s fame.

On the 30th of January our cavalry brought in 175 head of cattle that had been grazing at some distance off, and on the next day they shepherded in 734 sheep.

Now, work on Sunday was remitted. Men came to morning service with sword and pistol, or musket and bayonet, and sixty rounds in pouch, ready at a moment’s notice to march to battle.

“To me,” says Seaton, “it was always an affecting sight to see these great rough fellows with their heads bowed, humbly confessing their sins before God, and acknowledging their dependence on His goodness and mercy; and I am sure that afterwards, when we were surrounded by greater perils, there were many who felt the comfort there was in having One to whom they could appeal in all their troubles.”

In February they knew that Akbar was collecting his forces for an attack. On our side the General ordered that all able-bodied camp-followers who were willing should be armed and receive the pay of native soldiers.

Those for whom there were no muskets were armed with pikes, which were made for them.

On the 16th rain came down in torrents; on the 18th heavy rain again. On the morning of the 19th Seaton was at work outside when he felt a smart shock of earthquake, with a rumbling noise. At first he did not take much notice, but when the rumbling increased and swelled to the loudest thunder, as if a thousand heavy waggons were being driven at speed over a rough pavement, he turned quite sick. An awful fear came over him. The ground heaved and set like the sea, and the whole plain seemed to be rolling in waves towards them. The motion was so violent that some were nearly thrown down, and expected every moment to see the whole town swallowed up.

The houses, the walls, and the bastions were rocking and reeling in a most terrific manner, and falling into complete ruin, while all along the south and west faces the parapets, which had cost us so much labour to erect, were crumbling away like sand. The whole was enveloped in one immense cloud of dust, out of which came cries of terror from the hundreds within.

When the dreadful noise and quaking ceased, a dead silence succeeded, all being so deeply impressed by the terror of the scene that they dared not utter a sound. The men were absolutely green with fear. Presently a gentle breeze sprang up. Officers encouraged the men to go on with their work, but, looking round the valley, they saw every fort and village wrapped in dense clouds of dust. From some the dust was streaming away like smoke, from others it rose high in the air in dense columns.

When the breeze had cleared away the dust from Jellalabad an awful scene of destruction appeared. The upper stories of the houses were all gone, and beams, posts, doors, windows, bits of wall, ends of roof, earth and dust, all were mingled in one confused heap. It was as if some gigantic hand had taken up the houses and thrown them down in one rubbish-heap.

The parapets all round had fallen from the walls. The walls were split in many places. In the eastern wall a breach had been made large enough for two companies abreast to walk through.

Sale’s bugle sounded the assembly, and they went in at once. On muster being taken, it was found that the loss of life was happily only three men crushed in the cavalry hospital.

On looking round, it was found that a month’s cannonading with a hundred pieces of heavy artillery could not have produced the damage that the earthquake had effected in a few seconds. “The hand of the Almighty had indeed humbled our pride, and taught us the wholesome lesson that He alone is a sure defence.”

The Colonel narrowly escaped with his life. He had been standing on the wall, which, he said after he was taken up from the ruins, wriggled like a snake.

In one place, as an officer was passing along the ramparts, the ground opened beneath him, and he fell in, but only to be thrown out again – an operation which was twice repeated. At a spot near the river the wall had opened so wide that a man could have slipped through. All the barracks and sheds were in ruins; all shelter for the men was destroyed.

This, however, was not the time for idle wonder or for despair. Without delay every man in garrison was set to work, and though there were frequent shocks of earthquake during the day, the ruins had been cleared away by dusk, and a temporary parapet of clods of earth and clay made all round the walls.

Towards sunset a small body of horsemen from Akbar’s camp came to reconnoitre. Abbott, who was looking out, sent a shot right into the party, making them scamper off, probably to report to their chiefs that the fortifications were uninjured, and that our “magic” had caused the earthquake.

But we were in a critical state, with all defences levelled, a huge breach in the works, and the destroyer of our Cabul force within a few miles of us, with the whole power of the country at his back.

They had now daily fights for their forage. The grass-cutters went out at early dawn under a strong escort. The grass in India is a creeping grass: the shoots run along under ground, or it would perish in the droughts of summer.

The grass-cutter, armed with a small hoe, sits down on his heels, and with a sweeping motion cuts the grass half an inch below the surface of the ground. He then collects it, beats off the earth, and brings it home on his head. This grass is very sweet and nutritious. As the hot weather advanced they had to go further afield for grass. On the 2nd of March Akbar sent a large force round to the east, and they were invested.

“I find this in my journal for the 2nd of March: ‘All our comforts are vanishing. Tea has long been gone; coffee goes to-day; sugar on its last legs; butter gone; no grass for the cows; candles not to be had. Akbar is trying to starve us out.’”

Lead for the rifles was in great request. Some officers of the 13th hit upon a very comical method of procuring it. They dressed up a figure – cocked hat, red coat, painted face – and put it on a short pole. Hoisted up above the ramparts and managed adroitly, it created no end of fun.

Eagerly the Afghans fired at it. Thousands of bullets went over their heads or battered against the wall below. Whenever they thought the General was hit or saw him bob down, they yelled and shouted like madmen.

How many Generals must they not have killed! Generals running short! The figure was hit sometimes. In the evening or early morning they used to go outside and pick up the bullets, of which immense numbers were found. In the course of half an hour one morning Seaton picked up 121, but several officers picked up more.

From the 2nd of March, the day on which the enemy established a camp east of the city, they all slept at their posts on the walls. No one took off his clothes. None of them wore uniform, but clothes made of camel-hair cloth. Too much digging for fine uniforms! On the 10th of March, as the Afghans had been thronging the ravines for many days, Sale thought it wise to see to it, so a sortie with 800 men was ordered. They thoroughly examined the ravines at night and destroyed the enemy’s shelters. As they were retiring into the town the enemy came on, pursuing with loud yells and screams. Their horse came boldly down towards the town, offering a splendid mark for Abbott, whose guns plied them with shot and shell with deadly effect.

Not a single horseman could stand before Abbott’s gun within 1,200 yards, his aim was so unerring. Ever since the siege of Bhurtpoor he had been celebrated for his skill as an artilleryman, and they had daily proof of his prowess.

So the month progressed, fighting or working by day, watching on the walls by night, and all the time on half rations.

They knew that Government was assembling a force at Peshawar under Pollock in order to relieve them, for they got a stray letter now and then.

Hard work, poor food, anxiety, were making all thin and pale; and some of them were angry with Sale that he would not go out and fight, for they felt perfectly capable of squaring accounts with Akbar and his legions; but “Fighting Bob,” as he was called, would not come up to his name.

Night after night they were roused from their short sleep by earthquakes. A sharper shock, a violent heave, a short cracking sound, and all would start up, listen, grumble, try to get to sleep again.