Despite Massy’s incompetence, the Afghan army was dispersed and Roberts was master of Kabul, an achievement largely due to the speed of his advance and the skill of his tactics. On the 9th, his force advanced to within one mile of the city; retribution was at hand.
* Major General Sir Henry Durand, Royal Engineers, hero of the capture of Ghazni in 1841 and father of Henry Mortimer Durand who accompanied Roberts, and edited and published the history.
Chapter 6
Martial Law at Kabul
The whole Afghan Population is Particeps criminis in a great national crime; and every Afghan brought to death by the avenging arm of the British Power, I shall regard as one scoundrel the less in a den of scoundrelism, which it is our present business to thoroughly purge.
Lord Lytton to Roberts
I share your anxiety about the consequences of some of Roberts’ recent political and administrative proceedings. He is a splendid soldier; but his management of the political situation has not been altogether as judicious as I had hoped it would be.
Lord Lytton to Lord Cranbrook
To Scotsmen with Roberts’s force, Kabul and the Bala Hissar resembled the Castle Rock and Arthur’s Seat at Edinburgh, with the two squashed closer together. In place of grey massive Scots walls were crumbling irregular outlines of turrets and battlements, hot and dusty like the sun-baked heights they crowned. The city was a jumble of close-packed houses, dominated by twin citadels, the fortified walls running along the scarp of the hill known as Sher Darwaza – the Tiger’s Gate. Green irrigated fields and lines of poplar and willow extended up the valleys and round the villages in every direction. Above them rose bare stony hills. The Indian and British force was dwarfed by its surroundings – thin lines of khaki and blue, tipped with steel of bayonets and cavalry sabres, followed by lines of unwieldy baggage animals, bemused by the vast assortment of cannon, ancient and modern, which they found in the Amir’s arsenal.1
Roberts wasted no time. He examined the nearby encampment of Sherpur as winter quarters and left cavalry to guard the huge quantity of stores and equipment, including seventy-six guns left there. On 11 October, he went with a small escort to inspect the former English residency in the Bala Hissar. It was a melancholy spectacle, witness to the last desperate struggle of Cavagnari and the Guides. Walls were blackened by smoke from burning ruins, each angle where there were loopholes was pitted with bullet marks deep into the hard mud plaster, the staircase was stained with blood and whitewashed walls were bespattered with it. Ashes in the middle of one room were the remains of bodies burnt by the Afghans. Nearby were two skulls and a heap of human bones, still fetid, traces of a desperate struggle. Later Nawab Hayat Khan, one of the British agents, informed Roberts that the Kotwal or Chief Constable had ordered the bodies of the Guides ‘to be treated with neglect and contumely’, and thrown into a pit in the city ditch. After viewing the scene, Surgeon Duke cited the proverbial treachery and faithlessness of the Afghans, while George White would have made it much hotter for the people of Kabul. ‘An Army sent to avenge the second Ambassador of ours murdered in Cabul ought to have razed it to the ground, instead of sprinkling rose water about as we are doing.’2
It was planned to make a formal entry to the Bala Hissar on the 12th, and on the 11th Durand persuaded Roberts to rewrite a proclamation which he proposed to read to the assembled populace. It was wrong in tone and content, thought Durand, and he went through it paragraph by paragraph persuading Roberts to change the wording. Everything was ready for the entry early on the morning of 12 October, when the Amir Yakub asked to see Roberts. His life, he said, had been a miserable one and he could bear it no longer. ‘You see,’ he said, ‘what the people are. Who would rule over them? I have fought battles for the Amirship like my father and grandfather before me, but it is all over now. I have done with them. Let me go to India, or London, anywhere you will, so long as I leave Afghanistan for ever ... I have not one friend in the country, not one friend.’
Roberts and the politicals, Hastings and Durand, begged him to reconsider, but he would not. The Amir ‘seemed utterly broken, his eyes red and swollen, his body bowed helplessly forward, with prostration in every line, and his voice tearful and quivering.’ At last Roberts agreed to his not accompanying them to the Bala Hissar, and promised to send his abdication to the Viceroy, but said he must remain titular Amir until the answer came.3
On that day, with the Amir’s son, eight-year-old Musa Khan, Roberts occupied the Bala Hissar in full-dress parade. Next day, in a deliberate show of strength, the whole Field Force marched through Kabul, mostly a tangle of dark, filthy, narrow streets and alleys, divided into quarters and sections, with no lofty minarets as earthquakes were frequent, but with bazaars well stocked with silver ornaments, iron and brass utensils, sheepskin clothing, and laden fruit stalls. Later the British observed how much more Russian than English Kabul was: Russian money, Russian crockery, Russian or Bokhara silk and Russian-cut clothes made it a mart for trade from the north. Roberts and his staff led the way, followed by the infantry regiments of his division except those forming the garrison of the citadel. The streets were densely lined with inhabitants, whose behaviour was quiet and orderly. The rich Hindu merchants welcomed the invaders heartily, and appeared delighted at the prospect of British rule, expecting order to be restored and customers with Indian rupees in their pockets to appear at their stalls. Surgeon Joshua Duke added ruefully that ‘these unfortunate men will not give us the same welcome on future occasions, unless we determine to occupy Cabul permanently.’ Everyone remembered the fate of the British and Indian force forty years before. The reading of the proclamation to the Afghans nearly ended in disaster with the appearance of a cat – Roberts loathed cats – which was fortunately shooed away by MacGregor, and it appears only he, Roberts and Durand saw it.4
The Residency was unsafe for a garrison, being commanded completely from the walls of the arsenal. Engineers and pioneers with Roberts’s force dismantled half the citadel, removed much filth and cut a fine road through it, inserting loopholes and putting the defences into good repair. The extended camp at Sherpur outside Kabul was to be the British base for the winter. Roberts’s medical officers opened a ‘dispensary’ or medical centre on 14 November 1879 for the sick of Kabul and its neighbourhood. At first Dr Owen had only limited accommodation, two tents with a wall of mud and a fireplace for each. Then the Kotwal’s house was made available, different rooms en suite served as a medical store, consulting room, waiting room for female patients, operations theatre and opthalmoscope room. On the first day there were twelve patients, and Roberts came and expressed approval. Some Afghans had a shock, as recorded by correspondent Howard Hensman: Dr Owen’s superficial resemblance to Cavagnari made them think that he had risen from the dead. By 10 December, over 260 patients had been treated. It was closed when Roberts’s force retreated to Sherpur and when seen again on the 25th, it had been reduced to a total wreck by some 800 insurgents who had forced their way in, appropriating furniture and wooden fittings for fuel. It was duly restored and early in 1880 became popular, some 208 patients visiting on 26 January alone. Once a lady of Kabul acted as matron, women began to attend. Soon a hundred beds were available and the daily average of patients was 220, with twenty operations being performed. Two-thirds of the patients were women. Such was Owen’s success that, according to Hensman, his services were sought by well-to-do citizens in whose zenanas were sick wives or favourite concubines pining under mysterious ailments. He was even admitted to private homes.5
Roberts may have taken Kabul, but other Indian Army forces had varying success. Brigadier Charles Gough advanced to Jalalabad and sent a flying column forward to Gandamak to overawe the Ghilzais, but he had an insufficient force to extend his permanent control that far. In the Kurram Valley, Managals and Ghilzais mounted a major attack on the garrison at Shutagardan under Colonel Money who was guarding Roberts’s communications. Money attacked and dispersed the besiegers, and then abandoned th
e Shutagardan, cutting Roberts’s line of communication with the Kurram. Stewart meanwhile had reoccupied the citadel at Kandahar within twenty-four hours of receiving news of Cavagnari’s death. There was a fierce action against the Ghilzais near Shahjui. Roberts’s position was extraordinarily exposed. Great risks had been run in reaching Kabul, and with a less determined or able commander, there could have been disaster. MacGregor wrote on 8 October: ‘We have nearly eaten all our provisions, and if we were to get worsted, not only would the whole country be up, but we should get no supplies. I hope Bobs’ luck will carry him through; but we are playing a risky game.’6 Was it necessary for the avenging expedition to be carried out so quickly when nothing could be done for Cavagnari and his comrades; why not defer action until 1880 when a stronger force could be sent? In answer Lytton and Roberts would have said that such treachery called out for immediate vengeance, and the speed of advance was justified by success. Delay would strengthen their Afghan foes and the moral effect of striking swiftly was great; no repetition of the 1842 defeat must be allowed. Rapid victory had beaten and dispersed the Afghans, and the magazines and arms, including 217 artillery pieces on which they depended, had been seized.7
Unfortunately Roberts was soon to dissipate the advantages won by his brilliant march, through bad political management, excessive harshness and overconfidence. Concentrating on avenging Cavagnari, he did not have the experience to recognize warning signs of impending trouble. Luckily, the quality of his force, his own leadership and the famed ‘Roberts luck’ averted disaster, but he still had to ensure the safety of his force, secure his communications to India, and find and deal with Cavagnari’s murderers. Eschewing the city with its tangle of narrow streets and alleys, where each gateway could quickly be built up transforming the city into a nest of fortresses, he based his force at the extensive Sherpur cantonment a mile north of Kabul, bounded on two sides by a massive, loopholed wall nearly 4 miles in circumference, with towers for artillery; its east face was incomplete and its rear rested on the Bemaru heights. The wisdom of choosing Sherpur over the Bala Hissar was underlined by an accidental explosion of massive quantities of ammunition at the latter stronghold three days after occupation. Seventeen soldiers were killed and part of the buildings destroyed. Roberts interpreted the Amir’s amassing arms and his construction of Sherpur as sure proof that it had been his intention to fight the British. More likely it was due to his fear of endemic rebellion. By 1 November, the filthy barracks in Sherpur had been cleaned, the accommodation was ready and the force moved there from its camp on the Siah Sang hills. Roberts did not, however, immediately begin to lay in stores for winter or clear buildings around Sherpur which obstructed fields of fire.
To secure his communications, he sent out parties to improve the route over the Lataband Pass, and by 19 November the telegraph line ran uninterrupted from Kabul to Peshawar – he abandoned as impracticable the use of carrier pigeons. He was able to send back to India all the time-expired, wounded and unfit, together with elephants, spare bullocks and sick transport animals, retaining just 8,000 men. This was a time of intense activity for Roberts, and even he with his enormous energy found himself working at full stretch, noting in his diary of 15 October: ‘The days are not long enough to get into my work, and yet I am glad they are not longer, for I am ready for bed at night.’8
His two proclamations to the people of Kabul before he arrived stated that the object of his expedition was to take public revenge on the murderers, but made it clear that those who had nothing to do with Cavagnari’s death and who abstained from opposing the British advance had nothing to fear. Two days after reaching the Afghan capital, he issued a third, harsher proclamation. ‘The force under my command has now reached Kabul and occupied the Bala Hissar; but its advance has been pertinaciously opposed, and the inhabitants of the city have taken a conspicuous part in the opposition offered. They have, therefore, become rebels against the Amir, and have added to the guilt already incurred by them in abetting the murder of the British Envoy and his companions.’9 The proclamation instituted martial law for a distance of 10 miles around Kabul, and the death penalty for anyone found carrying weapons in the city or 5 miles around it; rewards were offered for the apprehension of anyone concerned in the attack or who had fought against the British, and for the surrender of any articles belonging to members of the mission or any firearms or ammunition belonging to the regular Afghan Army.
To defeat the enemy and occupy Kabul was one thing; to produce a workable plan to govern Afghanistan was another. Roberts was not a politician, he was unskilled in compromise and negotiation, and inexperienced at drafting proclamations. Mortimer Durand, later to become a lifelong friend, but with a quicksilver mind, saw the weaknesses of Roberts’s plans immediately. In the way of confident young men, he thought Roberts had ‘no more idea than a schoolboy [how to carry out political plans]’. He could see that Roberts’s scheme ‘to disintegrate the country, creating a number of weak governorships, and to influence them by keeping forces in the Khyber & Kuyrram [sic] always ready to march ... would practically hand over the northern & western provinces to Russia, who would be nearer and therefore stronger in them. I said so, and I think the little man did not quite like it.’ When Roberts, with Lytton’s support, accepted Yakub’s abdication, Durand thought it a mistake. ‘I cannot but think [Yakub’s] abdication was in great measure due to the utter neglect with which he was treated by the General, and the civility shown to his enemies Wali Mohammed & the other Sirdars. He was completely set aside, never consulted in anything, and doubtless he felt it.’ In this he was probably wrong: Yakub was caught between the British and his people, and had Roberts restored him, he would have appeared little more than a puppet. Roberts, Lytton and MacGregor believed in Yakub’s complicity in the massacre of the Mission, but could not prove it. The British investigating commission reported the attack by the Herati regiments as spontaneous, but that the Amir and his advisers could have intervened. Lytton accepted this conclusion with reluctance. Durand sympathized with Yakub and was sorry that he was closely guarded, but admitted, ‘Yakoob loose just now, and preaching a jehad, would be a most troublesome enemy.’ With advice from Durand and the chief political officer, Lieutenant Colonel Hastings, Roberts issued a proclamation on 28 October announcing Yakub’s abdication and British intentions:
I, General Roberts, on behalf of the British Government, hereby proclaim that the Amir, having by his own free will abdicated, has left Afghanistan without a Government ... The British Government, after consultation with the principal sirdars, tribal chiefs and others representing the interests and wishes of the various provinces and cities, will declare its will as to the future permanent arrangements to be made for the good government of the people.
After Roberts had removed Yakub and most of his chief men to India, Lytton and his council wondered what Roberts was to do with Afghanistan: annex it in part or whole, break it into provinces or find a friendly Amir.10
Roberts set up two commissions: the first, of MacGregor, Surgeon-Major Bellew and a native member of the Indian Political Service, Mohammed Hayat Khan, to investigate the massacre and collect evidence against suspected Afghans; the second, of Massy, Major Moriarty of the Bombay Army and Captain Guinness of the 72nd Highlanders, to judge and sentence those whom MacGregor’s commission sentbefore it. Mohammed Hayat Khan, a Persian and Pashto speaker accompanying the British force as translator, advisor and Assistant Political Officer, played a crucial role. MacGregor and Durand were both critical of him in their diaries, but Roberts had his own good reasons for trusting him: he had served as orderly – more like a mediaeval squire -to his hero John Nicholson. Hayat Khan’s father had saved Nicholson’s life on the Frontier and when he was killed in a border feud Nicholson insisted that his death be avenged. The son remained loyal to Nicholson, served with him throughout the Mutiny, bore his standard in the attack on Delhi, when he became separated from him in the crucial minutes before his fatal wounding, and ten
ded him in his last illness. Any man who had fought with Nicholson in his last battle had a strong hold on Roberts’s loyalty. By then Hayat Khan had ‘eaten the Queen’s salt’, was a local commissioner in the Punjab, and at the start of the war Cavagnari’s right-hand man. His idea of frontier justice and loyalty would be to avenge those whom the Afghans had killed.11
The only member of the Judge Advocate’s Department present in Kabul was not a member, so it proved impossible to obtain reliable testimony, bribes and other inducements simply leading to the paying off of old scores. The wish for revenge strongly influenced the commissions. All who had seen the wreckage of the Residency with its nauseating remains, and heard the story of the gallant defence, were deeply angered. ‘We saw the place where Hamilton charged out,’ wrote MacGregor. ‘Then we came home, and to listen to Morty [Mortimer Durand] talking about treating these fiends with justice of the High Court kind was sickening.’ Durand recorded MacGregor as saying openly that the Amir was guilty and should be hanged for doing nothing to help Cavagnari. ‘This is the general opinion,’ he wrote. Lytton’s instructions to Roberts told him that every soldier of the Herati regiments was ipso facto guilty, as was every civilian who joined ‘the mob of assassins’, and called, not for justice, but retribution. ‘Strike terror, and strike it swiftly and deeply,’ he wrote.12
The March to Kandahar- Roberts in Afghanistan Page 11