The Romance of Modern Sieges. Gilliat Edward
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