Henty George Alfred
Through Three Campaigns: A Story of Chitral, Tirah and Ashanti
On the 9th a reconnaissance was ordered to Saransur, a lofty peak to the east of the Maidan valley. Across this is a pass, on one of the roads to Peshawar. General Westmacott, who was in command, took with him four regiments–two British and two Sikhs–two batteries, and a company of Madras Sappers. The foot of the hill to be scaled was less than three miles from camp, but the intervening ground was extraordinarily broken. It was, in fact, a series of hummocks from seventy to a hundred feet high; which were covered with boulders, and intersected by a river. This main nullah was also broken, on both sides, by smaller nullahs almost every hundred yards. Beyond this rugged ground there was a severe ascent. The hill had two spurs; one wooded, especially towards the summit, the other bare. The path wound up the latter, then crossed a ridge beyond, and yet another ridge behind that, with a sheer summit very like the Dargai cliff.
The force left camp at half-past seven. When they had gone about a mile, desultory shots were fired at them, from a series of well-built sangars facing the termination of the nullah. On reaching the foot of the hillside, General Westmacott was much concerned about the Dorsets on the left; who were engaged in desultory firing, and were making little progress up the nullah. Staff officer after staff officer was despatched, to direct the Dorsets to the intended line.
A little before ten the Northamptons, and Sikhs covering them in the rear, began the ascent. It was a stiff climb of a thousand feet. When the first brow was reached General Westmacott called a halt, in order that the men might get their breath and fix bayonets. Then they climbed to the next top cover, and rushed forward. The enemy evidently knew its range, and advance companies found themselves under magazine fire. Nevertheless they pushed on. An open kotal had to be passed. The men crossed it at the double and, although a heavy fire was kept up again, there was no casualty.
The advance guard was now at the foot of the sheer cliff. No news had been received of the Dorsets, who were in a very rough country, wooded almost to the summit; and the general could only hope that they were working up through this. The force pushed on and, a few minutes past eleven, the whole summit was in our possession, and the last of the visible enemy put to flight.
The intelligence officers busied themselves sketching the country. It was evident that the Saransur was the retreat of the Maidan Zakka-Khels, for all round were evidences of encampments: fire-stained walls, caves, and bags of grain. It was deserted by the tribesmen, who had been taken by surprise, and had left hurriedly. General Westmacott was anxious to be off, as it was probable that the fighting men of the enemy had merely hurried off to place their families under cover, and would return as soon as they had done so.
At two o'clock the return march began. A company of the Northamptons were placed within range of the wooded slope, which should have been covered by the Dorsets, had they come up. They were suddenly fired upon, and the men fell fast. Another company came up to help them. The enemy could not be seen, but volleys were fired into the wood. The 36th Sikhs went back to reinforce them, and the whole force were withdrawn without further casualty.
As the Northamptons were retiring across the wooded zone, the first four companies were allowed to pass unmolested; but when the fifth reached the clear ground, they were greeted with a blaze of fire. The carriage of the wounded delayed the retirement, and it was not until dusk that the foot of the hill was reached.
The enemy had taken every advantage that their knowledge of the country gave them. They had now begun to creep up the ravines, and their number increased every minute. Men were falling fast. Each man carrying a wounded comrade became a target. The Dorsets also were severely engaged. The Northamptons stuck to their work, and slowly withdrew their wounded; but the number of casualties increased alarmingly.
Then an unfortunate occurrence took place. A party of Northamptons, under Lieutenant Macintyre and Lieutenant Sergeant Luckin, turning a corner, were cut off. It appeared that they sacrificed themselves to their wounded comrades. One of the party was despatched for help, and evidently came across a small group of Dorsets. The story was, that the party were surrounded at short range when he left; for, had they left their wounded and followed him, they might have saved themselves. Next morning their bodies were found. In every case they had been wounded by bullets, before the Pathans came up and gashed them; which showed that they had fought till the last man dropped.
Lisle was not one of those who returned to camp and, in the confusion that occurred as the result of the late arrival of the troops, his absence was not discovered until the next morning. On enquiries being made, it was found that he was last seen high up in the mountains. He had been sent down, with eight men, to request the guns to direct their fire against the enemy, who were pressing the regiment during the retreat; but as he had not arrived at the guns, a strong party was at once sent out, to search for his body and those of the men with him.
Lisle had, in fact, pushed down halfway to the spot where the guns were placed, and had dismounted at the top of a nullah; when a large party of the enemy opened fire upon him. One of the sepoys at once fell dead, and another was wounded. It was impossible for him to fight his way through this force. Twilight was already falling and, owing to the rugged nature of the ground, he was by no means sure of his position.
While the men returned the enemy's fire, he looked round for some vantage ground. Fifty yards away there was a small blockhouse and, when he saw this, he at once determined to shelter in it. He and one of the men therefore lifted their wounded comrade, and Lisle shouted to the others:
"Use your magazines, and then make a rush for the hut, keeping well together."
The little party charged, meanwhile keeping up so heavy a fire, with their magazines, that the Afridis who stood between them and the house cleared off, leaving a dozen of their dead on the ground. Before they reached the block house, two more of the men were wounded but, fortunately, not severely enough to prevent them from keeping up with the others. The place was untenanted, and they rushed in and at once began to pile its contents against the door.
Lisle ordered the unwounded men to take their places at the loopholes, which served for windows in the Afridi buildings, while he himself attended to the wounds of the others. He warned the men who were firing to withdraw quickly after every shot, for the Afridis were such admirable marksmen that their bullets frequently entered the loopholes.
Chapter 9: Captured
When he had completed the dressing of the wounds, Lisle mounted to the upper story, which was a feature of every house in the valley. While the lower part was of stone; the upper one was built of wicker work, thickly plastered with mud, and quite useless as a protection against rifle bullets. He set to work to cut a dozen small loopholes, a few inches above the floor. From these he commanded a view all round. Then he called up the two wounded men, who were still able to use their rifles, and ordered them to lie down, one at each of the side walls; while he himself took his place over the doorway, with the rifle of the disabled man.
From here he picked off several of the enemy. His fire was returned but, as he took care to lie well back, the bullets all went over his head.
When darkness fell, he went down and directed the sepoys to man only the loopholes in the front wall. This released three men, whom he brought upstairs and posted above the door.
The Afridis continued to riddle the upper wall and the door with bullets. Several times they attempted a rush, but were unable to withstand the heavy magazine fire which met them, when within twenty yards of the house. Twice they attempted to pile faggots at the side of the door, but the defence was so strong that many of the bearers were killed, and the survivors fled.
Knowing that the Afridis were in the habit of hiding their store of grain, Lisle prodded the floor in all directions with his bayonet and, at last, found a good supply in one corner of the room. Unfortunately, however, there was only one vessel, half full of water. It would not have done to light a fire to cook the grain, as any illumination within the house would have shown the exact place of the loopholes to the enemy. Lisle therefore served out some grain to each of the soldiers, to eat raw. He gave some of the water to the three wounded men, and served out a mouthful to each of the others; telling them that they might not be relieved for some time, and that the little supply must be made to last as long as possible.
The enemy still kept up a heavy fire but, after the lessons they had received, there was but small chance that they would attempt another hand-to-hand attack. Lisle therefore told all the men to lie down and sleep, while he himself took up his place at the loophole nearest the door, and kept watch.
No attempt was made until daybreak was approaching; when, with wild yells, the Afridis again rushed forward. The men were instantly on their feet, and eight rifles flashed out.
"Magazine firing!" Lisle shouted, "but don't fire unless you see a man, and make sure of bringing him down. We must husband our ammunition."
Quietly and steadily, the men kept up their fire. This time the enemy reached the door, and Lisle was compelled to call down the two men from above. The Afridis gathered thickly round the door, tried to push it in with their heavy knives, and battered it with the butt ends of their rifles. Gradually, in spite of the fire of the defenders, they splintered it; but the barricade behind still held and, from this, the besieged poured through the broken door so galling a fire–one half emptying their magazines, and then falling back to reload while the others took their places–till at last, after suffering a loss of some thirty men, the enemy retired again, and were soon hidden in the darkness. As soon as they had gone, the garrison brought down all available material from the upper floor to strengthen the barricade.
"I don't think they will try again, lads," Lisle said.
The numbers of the besieged were, unfortunately, dwindling. One had been shot through the head, two others had been wounded, and Lisle himself had received a bullet in his shoulder. There were now but two unwounded men; but the other four were all capable of using their rifles, at a pinch. It was a relief, indeed, when day fairly broke; for then they could see their foes at a distance and, by a steady fire, force them to take to shelter. When they got into cover, the tribesmen continued to fire upon the block house; but the besieged did not reply, for they had only twenty rounds per man left.
Another mouthful of water was now served to all and, the two unwounded men having been placed in the upper story to keep watch, the others sat down under the loopholes, in readiness to leap to their feet and fire, if an alarm was given.
At length, about eleven o'clock, the fire of the enemy suddenly ceased and, a few minutes later, a relief party marched up. The men cheered lustily as the barricade was removed, and Lisle and the six men came out. The officers ran forward and warmly greeted Lisle, shaking hands with him and the men of his little party.
"Thank God we have found you alive, Bullen! We hadn't even a hope that you had survived; for we found poor Macintyre and his party, all killed and cut up. We started this morning, as soon as your absence was discovered, and have been searching ever since; but I doubt if we should ever have found you, had we not heard firing going on up here. I don't think men were ever so pleased as ours, when we heard it; for it showed that you, or some of your party, were still holding out.
"You must have had desperate fighting, for there are some forty bodies lying near the door; and we know that the enemy always carry off their dead, when they can. You must have accounted for a good many more, who have been taken away in the darkness."
"We have done our best, you may be sure," Lisle said. "We have lost two men killed, and four out of the others are wounded. I myself have got a rifle ball in my shoulder; at least, it is not there now, for it went right through. Fortunately it missed the bone, so I shall be all right again, in a day or two."
"How many were you attacked by?"
"I should say there must have been two hundred. That was about the number, when they first attacked."
"You must have been exposed to a tremendous fire. The walls are everywhere pitted with bullet marks, and the upper story seems perfectly riddled with balls; but of course none of you were up there."
"Yes, we used it as a lookout. As you see, I made four loopholes in each side and, as we lay well back, their bullets passed over our heads.
"What we want now is water. We drank the last drop, when we saw you coming. We had scarcely a mouthful each, and we have not had much more during the siege."
Flasks were instantly produced, and each man drank his fill.
"And now we had better be off," the officer in command of the relief party said. "Likely enough the Afridis will be down upon us, as soon as we move."
They were, indeed, several times fired at, as they made their way down to the camp, and at one time the resistance was formidable; but they were presently joined by another party from the camp, and the Afridis therefore drew off.
Lisle received many hearty congratulations on his return, and many officers of other regiments came in to shake his hand.
"I shall send in your name again, Mr. Bullen," his colonel said, after Lisle had made his report. "It was a most gallant action, to defend yourself so long, with only seven men, against a couple of hundred of the enemy; and the loss you inflicted upon them has been very severe, for forty fell close to the house, so that their bodies could not be carried off. I certainly should reckon that you must have killed or wounded a good many more."
"I don't think so, Colonel. No doubt we killed some more but, as it was dark for the greater part of the time, we could only fire at the flashes of their rifles. Certainly I saw twelve or fourteen fall, before it became quite dark and, as they several times tried to rush us, others might have fallen far enough from the house to be carried off by their friends."
That day General Lockhart placed, in the order of the day, the names of Lisle and his little party as having shown conspicuous gallantry, in defending themselves against a vastly superior force.
Two days later General Lockhart, himself, went out with a strong force to the top of Saransur; but met with little resistance, and the force returned at a much earlier hour than on the previous occasion, and reached camp before nightfall.
In warfare of this kind, it is the wounded who are the cause of disaster. A wounded man means six men out of the fighting line–four to carry him, and one to take charge of their rifles. A few casualties greatly reduce the fighting strength of the party. In European warfare this would not take place, as the wounded would be left behind, and would be cared for by the enemy.
The next day representatives of all the Orakzai tribes came in, and asked for terms. They were told that they must restore all stolen property, give up five hundred rifles, and pay a fine of thirty thousand rupees, and the cost of rebuilding the post they had destroyed. Representatives of three other tribes also came in, and similar terms were imposed upon them. Two of these, the Kambar-Khels and the Malikdins, were in the habit of migrating to British territory in cold weather; but the Kuki-Khels sent their families and goods, in winter quarters, to the Bara valley. The other Maidan tribes would probably have come in at the same time, but for their fear of the Zakka-Khels.
There was trouble the next day in the Mastura valley, where two officers and four men were wounded. The following night the camp was fired into, by an enemy who had crept within a hundred and fifty yards of it. News came that General Kempster, with his detached brigade, had met with little opposition; and his search over the hills showed that the Zakka-Khels, in that direction, were severely punished.
On the 13th, the 3rd Brigade left the camp to cross the Kotal towards Saransur. Except for a few long-range shots, there was no opposition. Next day a Mullah's house was destroyed, documents found there showing that he had taken a vigorous part in the rising.
Two days later the brigade started on their return march. The 1st and 3rd Ghoorkhas were to cover the retirement, and the 15th Sikhs to hold the Kotal. The baggage train reached the Kotal by twelve o'clock, and the camp at three. The Ghoorkhas, however, had to fight hard; and were so done up that, instead of continuing to cover the retirement they passed on, leaving the Sikhs to cover.
The enemy, thinking that only a small rear guard had been left, came down in great force; but the fire was so heavy that they fell back, leaving the ground strewn with their dead. The action, however, now became general, all along the hill. Ammunition was running short, and Captain Abbott felt that, in the face of so large a force, and with fifteen or sixteen wounded, he could not retire down the ravine or valley without support. He therefore signalled for assistance; and the 46th, and two companies of the Dorsets, were detached for that purpose.
Colonel Houghton of the 36th, who was now in command, retiring steadily, found himself hampered with wounded in the rough country; while the enemy were surrounding him in increasing numbers. He was suffering heavily from the fire of the enemy posted in a small village; and he determined to seize it, and hold it for the night. Three companies of the 15th and two of the 36th therefore rushed up the hill, and were into the buildings before the Pathans were aware that they were moving against them. Those that delayed were bayoneted, the rest fled precipitately into the darkness. Their fire, however, had cost us an officer and five men killed.
Major Des Voeux on the right, having rushed a clump of buildings opposite to him, made for a second one on the far side of the nullah, in which was a small square building. The roof of the house had been burnt, and the charred beams were lying on the ground. The men rolled these, and what litter they could find into the gaps of the building; but the breastwork was barely two feet high. When the enemy returned to the attack they rushed right up to the house but, luckily, they fired high in their excitement, and the Sikhs swept them back again. The breastwork was then completed, a sentry was placed at each side of the house, and the rest lay down.
Colonel Houghton's post, which was a strong one, was not much troubled. A disaster, however, occurred to a half company, under two officers, who tried to push their way back to camp. Their bodies were found in a nullah, in the morning.
The next morning the parties were relieved by a force from camp.
On the same day General Westmacott, with the 4th Brigade, marched out. For the past three days the Malikdins and Kambar-Khels had shown a disposition to be friendly, and had made some attempt to open a grain traffic. Major Sullivan, with three other officers, pushed forward to prospect a site for a camp. Some apparently friendly and unarmed tribesmen approached them; but Major Sullivan's suspicions were excited when he saw that, instead of coming down direct, they were making a sweep that would cut off his little party. He therefore whistled for the others to join him.
When the tribesmen saw that the game was up, they poured in two volleys. Luckily the shots went high, and the four officers gained the cover of a house, and were soon joined by a Ghoorkha company. There was no doubt that the enemy had played the game of friendlies for the purpose of obtaining four officers, alive, to use as hostages.
The force then retired, bringing in the baggage animals, loaded with forage. The return was now decided upon. It was considered by the authorities that it would be less expensive to organize another expedition in the spring, when the sowing had begun; than to maintain a large force in the Tirah during the winter. The Afridis would not come down, and orders were therefore issued for destroying all the villages. These were burned, and the axe laid to the roots of the beautiful groves.
The tribal representatives of the Kambar-Khels, Alla-Khels, Malikdin-Khels, and Kuki-Khels came in. They were ordered to send in eight hundred serviceable rifles, fifty thousand rupees in cash, and all property that had been stolen.
When the force arrived at Bagh there was a sharp action, and the casualties amounted to twenty-two wounded and seven killed. The Ghoorkhas reported that they had found the enemy in great force, in the valley.
On the 22nd of November, Sir William Lockhart made a reconnaissance to Dwatoi and the Bara valley. He took with him a strong brigade, under General Westmacott. Every precaution was taken in entering this unknown country, as the road led down a defile commanded by high peaks. The Yorkshire Regiment was told off to hold the right of the advance, the 1st and 2nd Ghoorkhas were to do the same work on the left. The column was headed by the 3rd Ghoorkhas; followed by the 28th Bombay Volunteers, two companies of the Sappers and Miners, the Borderers, and the baggage; the rear guard being furnished by the 36th Sikhs.
Within a mile of camp, the Ghoorkhas were engaged with stray riflemen. A mile farther they were met by the main body, and were unable to proceed farther without support. The flanking regiments, however, presently came up, and the advance continued. The road lay in the river bed, and the men were plodding, waist deep, in water. The passage became narrower and narrower, and so rapid was the decline that the river bed became impassable, and the men made their way along by its side. The road was almost dark, so high were the cliffs and so narrow the passage between them.
Here the resistance became very formidable. The Ghoorkhas were all engaged in clearing the ridges, and the Bombay Pioneers pushed forward an advance guard, the Borderers moving up to their support. The deepest gorge was enfiladed by a party of tribesmen, with Martinis. One man fell with a broken leg. The man helping him was shot a moment later and, when a stretcher was brought back, two more of the Borderers were hit. A section of the 3rd Sikhs was detached to turn the enemy out, and then the ravine was rushed by all the rest. There was another gorge to be passed, and the enemy were pressing on both sides; but a battery was now brought into action, and soon drove them off.
Thus Dwatoi was reached, where the force encamped. It was but a small open plain, some five hundred yards across. Three miles away a gorge opened into the Rajgul valley, and it appeared that, beyond this, lay Wira valley.
All the summits were strongly picketed. Night fell, and there was no sign of the baggage. The troops were wet to the waist, there were seventeen degrees of frost, and the men had neither blankets nor food.
When morning broke there were still no signs of baggage, but at eleven it began to appear. At noon fighting began again, and the rest of the train did not arrive till about five o'clock. Fighting had been incessant the whole day. It was so severe that Sir William Lockhart determined to return to Bagh, the following day.
The arrangements were admirable. The baggage was loaded up before daybreak. The Ghoorkhas were to ascend the hills flanking the village, three companies of the Borderers were to form the advance guard, the wounded on stretchers were to follow, and the mountain battery was to take up a position to cover the retirement. By eight o'clock the last of the baggage was near the nullah. The helio then flashed to the pickets. They came in and joined the rear guard of the Sikhs, and were well in the nullah before a shot was fired.
When the Afridis fairly took the offensive they attacked with fury, and the Sikhs were obliged to signal for help. They were joined by a company of the Borderers. A party of Pathans dashed forward to seize the baggage; they had not, however, seen the few files that formed the rearmost guard, and were therefore caught between two bodies of troops, and almost annihilated. This sudden reversal of the situation seemed to paralyse the tribesmen, and the rest of the gorge was safely passed. Though the natives followed up the rear guard to within two miles of the camp, they never made another determined attack. The force lost, in all, five officers wounded, and a hundred men killed and wounded, from the 36th.
During the course of the reconnaissance Lisle had been with the rear guard, and had fallen in the torrent with a rifle ball through his leg. As every man was engaged in fighting, the fall was unnoticed and, as he could not recover his footing, he was washed helplessly down to the mouth of the defile. As he managed to reach the shore, a party of Afridis rushed down upon him with drawn tulwars; but a man who was evidently their leader stopped them, as they were about to fall upon him.
"He is an officer," he said. "We must keep him for a hostage. It will be better, so, than killing him."
Accordingly he was carried back to a village which the troops had left that evening. Here some women were told to attend to his wound, and the party who captured him went off to join in the attack on the British rear guard.
In the evening, the man who had saved his life returned. He was, it seemed, the headman of the village; and had been with his force in the Bara valley, where the natives of the village had retired on the approach of the British force. There Lisle lay for ten days, by which time the inflammation from the wound had begun to subside. The bullet had luckily grazed, and not broken the bone. At the end of that time, some of the principal men came to him and, by signs, directed him to write a letter to the British commander, saying that he was a prisoner, that he was held as a hostage against any further attempt to penetrate into the valley; and that, in the event of another British force approaching, he would be at once put to death.
Four of the Afridis always sat at the entrance to the house, which was one of the largest in the valley. He was served regularly with food; of which, as the valley had not been entered, there was, of course, abundance. The women in the house seldom came in to see him, except when they brought him his meals; and then it was evident, from their surly manner, that they strongly objected to his presence.
As he lay on his rough pallet, he resolved to maintain the appearance of being unable to walk, as long as possible. He knew very well that, if General Lockhart had to make another movement against the Bara valley, he could not be averted from his purpose by the fact that the Afridis held one officer prisoner, though he would assuredly revenge his murder, by destroying every house in the valley; and that he must accordingly trust only to himself to make his escape. To do this, it would be absolutely necessary to procure a disguise; and this, at present, he did not see his way to accomplish.
The guards below were relieved every few hours, and kept up their watch every day. Still, as they watched only the door, it might be possible for him to let himself down from the window at the back of the house.
On the tenth day he found himself really able to walk, without very great difficulty. Looking out of the window, one morning, he saw that the women of the house were all gathered round the guards, and talking excitedly. Evidently some messenger had come in with news from the Tirah valley. He knew, by this time, how many there were in the house, and was satisfied that they were all there.
He at once made his way down to the floor below; feeling confident that, for the moment, he would not be disturbed. Hanging against the wall were several men's dresses and clothes. He hastily took down sufficient for a disguise. They were summer clothes–for the Afridis, when leaving to act against our troops in the mountains, wear sheepskin garments. At any rate, there was little fear that their loss would be discovered until the men returned from the front.
He took the clothes up to his room, and hid them under the pallet. Then, having ascertained that the women were still engaged in talking, he took off his boots and made his way down to the lowest story, which was principally used as a storehouse. Here, among bags of corn and other stores, he saw a coil of rope. This he carried upstairs and, having hidden it, lay down again.
The rest of the day passed quietly. It was apparent that the clothes had not been missed and, with a strong feeling of hopefulness, he awaited the night. When the house was quiet he looked out. Four men were sitting, as usual, at the front of the door. Then he took off his uniform and put on his disguise, fastened one end of the rope securely, and slid down noiselessly to the ground.
Keeping the house between him and the guard, he started. Making a detour, he got free of the village, and then turned to the upper end of the valley. Half an hour's walking took him to where the force had encamped, and he soon reached the mouth of the gorge.
Here he plunged into the river. His leg hurt him a good deal, but he waded on and, after great exertions, reached the head of the gorge. His leg was now hurting him so much that he could proceed no farther so, turning off, he mounted the hills and lay down among the rocks, where there was little chance of his being discovered.
