In the Far Pashmina Mountains

by Janet MacLeod Trotter

  It was September before the joyful news reached the women that the British forces were triumphant. They had arrived in Kabul in August, having taken the stronghold of Ghazni on the way. After years in exile Shah Shuja had entered his capital to the ecstatic welcome of his adoring people. At least that is what the British newspapers in India were reporting.

  ‘Sandy says it was more like a funeral procession,’ Emily told Alice. ‘He’d never seen such a solemn crowd. But perhaps the Afghans are less demonstrative than the Indians.’

  By the end of the month, just as the wives in Simla were wondering whether to return to Calcutta or not, word came through that all was calm in Kabul but it looked as if the British would be needed for a few months to help with the transition. They would be settled in for the winter. At last, Alice received a letter from Vernon.

  The relief at finally hearing from her husband after months of silence made her lightheaded. She opened the letter with trembling fingers.

  ‘Daddy’s written to us at last, Lotty,’ she told her daughter breathlessly. The baby shook her rattle and beamed at the sound of her mother’s voice. She gave Alice a gummy smile and jammed the rattle in her mouth with a happy shriek.

  Alice’s anticipation turned to dismay at the sight of the short message, barely covering one page. The news was paltry and Vernon’s final comment made her eyes flood with tears.

  . . . the Afghans are an ungrateful lot. They smile to your face then lie and scheme behind your back. Even the supporters of Shah Shuja can’t seem to agree among themselves. Kabul is dirty and smelly. And I didn’t even get a promotion out of it all, despite fighting like a lion and skewering plenty of the devils. I wanted you to be upsides with Emily and married to a major. But you’ll have to wait.

  I’m sorry to hear we have a daughter. You know how I had hoped for a son. I don’t know why you bothered to write to my parents. My father will see it as further proof of my failure as a son. But never mind, we’ll make a boy next time. An enjoyable prospect – once I get home to you!

  I send my love,

  Vernon

  Later that day she went round to Emily’s bungalow, still sick inside at her husband’s callous remarks about Charlotte; he hadn’t even mentioned her by name.

  ‘I’ve heard from Vernon,’ Alice blurted out. Her friend had given up asking so as not to embarrass Alice.

  ‘That’s wonderful!’ cried Emily. ‘What does he say?’

  ‘He didn’t sound in very good spirits,’ Alice admitted. ‘He seems to have missed out on promotion.’

  ‘Plenty of time yet,’ said Emily. ‘And does he ask after Lotty?’

  Alice felt her insides clench. She gave a bleak laugh. ‘He acknowledges her existence at least. But, as I feared, he’s disappointed she’s not a boy.’

  ‘He’ll feel differently once he’s met her,’ said Emily, ‘and held his own flesh and blood. You’ll see.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure you’re right,’ said Alice, encouraged. ‘Who couldn’t love her?’

  She leant down and plucked Lotty from the floor. The baby was able to sit up now and her hair was growing into soft curls. To Alice she was like a happy cherub.

  Emily said, ‘I hear Frances MacNaughten has agreed to join her husband in Kabul. He’s encouraging her to go – says it’s perfectly safe.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Alice, ‘and Dinah says she and her mother are thinking of doing the same. Florentia thinks it would be good for the men’s morale if we make the effort – set up home for them and make life seem normal again.’

  ‘The men must miss simple domesticity after all this time, mustn’t they?’ said Emily. ‘I know Sandy does. And he’s so eager to see Alexander again.’

  Alice felt leaden. She doubted if Vernon missed her much – and he was certainly in no hurry to meet his new daughter.

  ‘So will you go?’ asked Alice.

  ‘If it’s safe and we have a proper escort to protect us while we’re travelling,’ said Emily, ‘then yes I will. Helen has decided to return to Calcutta with the Edens – there’ll be more society for her there.’ She eyed her friend. ‘What about you? I wouldn’t blame you if you decided against it. It’s more hazardous with such a wee infant.’

  Alice sat cradling Charlotte. ‘If you’re going, wild horses won’t keep me away,’ said Alice. ‘I couldn’t bear to be left behind here without you and Alexander.’

  ‘That’s what I hoped you’d say.’ Emily grinned. ‘Och, our men are going to be so pleased to see us!’

  It took all of October and most of November for the convoy of women and children to reach Afghanistan. Some, like Alice, rode on horseback while others, like Emily, sat in large panniers strapped to camels. Charlotte and Alexander travelled in a basket on top of a mule that trotted along beside Alice’s pony. The motion seemed to lull the baby for she slept a lot, whereas many of the other children were made queasy and sick by the swaying of the animals. Sometimes Alice would let Alexander sit in the saddle in front of her to give him relief from the tedium of the journey and they would chatter about what they could see. The boy was bright and articulate for a three-year-old and Alice enjoyed his company greatly.

  They went by way of the ancient city of Lahore and the frontier town of Peshawar with its low mud-built houses and caravanserai teeming with camels and traders. In the bazaar, open stalls hung with dripping carcasses and mounds of colourful spices were sold from sacks. Tribesmen in loose clothing, huge white turbans and matchlocks slung over their shoulders swaggered down the dusty lanes and eyed them with curiosity. Alice wondered if some of these tribesmen were Afridis like the uncle that John had talked about with such admiration.

  Escorted by a regiment of cavalry under the command of Captain Edward Connolly and with the protection of Afridi guides, they wound their way up the Khyber Pass into Afghanistan, through narrow defiles amid towering cliffs. Fortresses, which reminded Alice of Northumbrian peel towers, were perched on impossibly sheer mountainsides and she knew that they were observed and followed.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Frances MacNaughten. ‘We pay the tribes well to keep their distance, don’t you know. William says he’s spending a small fortune in bribes and on guides.’

  ‘Not his personal fortune, I suspect,’ Florentia Sale said dryly.

  ‘Some of ’em look like they’d cut your throat for a sixpence,’ said Frances.

  ‘Or a camel-load of crystal chandeliers,’ said Florentia tartly. She had made no secret of her disapproval at Frances’s cumbersome amount of baggage. ‘Who would blame them for carrying off booty from the back of the camel train when you put such temptation in their way?’

  ‘It’s not my fault if I’ve got such good taste in furnishings,’ Frances said, her face growing red with indignation.

  Florentia raised an eyebrow. ‘The taste of the seraglio,’ she murmured to Dinah.

  ‘Mama!’ Dinah chided but smothered a giggle.

  Alice had grown used to the bickering between the two commanders’ wives. They had been too long on the road thrust together at close quarters. Arrival in Kabul couldn’t come soon enough.

  They reached the walled Afghan town of Jalalabad at the beginning of December. A sea of army tents was encamped under the walls; a large contingent of the Bengal army was on its way back to India. Alice was encouraged by this sign that the country was tranquil and hoped that Vernon might be among them.

  ‘Then Lotty and I could travel back with him without having to go to Kabul.’

  But they soon discovered that it was largely infantry being withdrawn and Vernon’s regiment was still in Kabul.

  To the delight of Frances MacNaughten, her husband William was there to receive them. Shah Shuja had decreed that he and his court would winter in the more temperate climate of Jalalabad; Kabul was too teeth-chatteringly cold at that time of year.

  ‘He’s grown soft living for so long in India,’ said their escort, the cheerful Captain Connolly.

  To Emily’s huge joy, Sandy had
also come south with the envoy’s staff. The Aytons had an emotional reunion. Alice’s throat tightened to see the joy on their faces. Sandy’s eyes swam with tears as he picked up Alexander and clasped him in a fierce hug. The boy squealed in excitement and alarm, hardly recognising his father. Sandy was thinner and the skin on his fair face was rough and flaking from the harsh winds.

  ‘How is Vernon?’ Alice asked. ‘Is he well?’

  Sandy looked uncomfortable. ‘There are hundreds of us at Kabul – I hardly see him. He lives near the Balla Hissar; I’ve been in the camp.’

  ‘The Balla Hissar?’ queried Alice, her stomach knotting.

  ‘It’s the amir’s fortress in the city.’

  ‘Why is he living near there?’ Alice asked, puzzled.

  ‘Some of the young officers choose to do so. Burnes lives there and they – well – I suppose it’s more comfortable.’

  ‘So why don’t you live there?’ Emily asked. ‘You’re on the envoy’s staff, after all. You should be the one living in comfort.’

  His face reddened with embarrassment. ‘Well, MacNaughten is taking the lead in setting up house in the new cantonment, so I’m supporting him. It’s showing the Afghans that we’re not trying to take over the citadel – and it’s going to be more spacious.’ He smiled at his wife. ‘You’ll enjoy it there more than the overcrowded city.’

  Alice persisted. ‘I don’t understand why Vernon should choose—’

  ‘You mustn’t concern yourself over it,’ Sandy said hastily. ‘I’m sure that as soon as you arrive he’ll want to move to the cantonment. No doubt he’s just trying to fill in time with his bachelor friends because he’s starved of a home life.’

  Alice was not reassured by his words. Images of her husband acting in a drunken and debauched way with his officer friends plagued her thoughts. The sooner she got to Kabul the better.

  Alexander grinned. ‘I want to go to Kabul now!’

  ‘Oh, so do I,’ said Alice.

  But it was decided that the party of wives and children should rest in Jalalabad too, in case they were caught by snow in the mountain passes that separated them from Kabul. Alice was frustrated by the decision but settled as best she could into their temporary surroundings.

  It was April before the royal party decamped to Kabul. Over the winter Alice had learnt that all was not as peaceful in the country as MacNaughten liked to portray – or Shah Shuja as popular. Dost Mohammed had not been completely defeated; he had withdrawn into the mountains of the Hindu Kush. It was rumoured that MacNaughten wished to send a force after him and annex the northern lands that bordered Russia to consolidate Shah Shuja’s power. But Auckland in India wished the withdrawal of troops rather than sending more.

  Dinah had letters from her fiancé; Johnny Sturt was an army engineer in Kabul.

  ‘He said we should have insisted on keeping the army stationed in the city,’ said Dinah. ‘They’d already started to repair the lower Balla Hissar as a barracks. Now that’s been given to the amir’s harem.’

  ‘It’ll be nicer for the families in the cantonment,’ said Emily brightly.

  ‘But not as safe,’ said Dinah, ‘or as easy to defend.’

  Her mother agreed. ‘Especially with Dost Mohammed and his sons still on the loose,’ said Florentia.

  ‘Well, Sandy said they had to move out of the city,’ said Emily, ‘as a sign of good faith to the Afghan chiefs.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Alice, ‘he said that Shah Shuja has to be seen to be in control.’

  Emily changed the subject; she hated pessimistic talk. ‘So what do you think of Auckland being made an earl? It shows that the government thinks the liberation of Afghanistan has been a success, doesn’t it?’

  ‘And MacNaughten’s got his knighthood,’ said Alice with a wry smile, ‘so Frances is happy.’

  ‘Don’t we all know it.’ Florentia rolled her eyes and laughed.

  A week later, Alice caught her first sight of Kabul; a brown stack of buildings and battlements against a backdrop of mountains across a beige-coloured plain and a grey river. At the top of the stack, dominating the city, was the Balla Hissar fortress. Smoke rose in vertical spirals into the thin air, the sky above a dazzling blue.

  Away to the left lay the new cantonment. It was a hive of activity with scores of workmen completing the building of orderly lines of squat houses, barracks, stables and sheds, which spread out across the open plain. Coolies were carrying mud from the river banks in baskets suspended from poles across their shoulders and dumping it at the brickworks. The sounds of sawing and hammering rang out in the clear spring air. An encampment of tents and mud huts had sprouted on the periphery to house the hundreds of servants, labourers, camp-followers and their families who served the army.

  As they drew nearer, horsemen in scarlet uniforms rode out to meet them. Alice felt nervous anticipation. Surely Vernon would be among them? She had written from Jalalabad but had no reply.

  Dinah spotted her fiancé and kicked her horse forward with a cry of delight. Colonel Sale had also come out to welcome Florentia. Alice searched among the riders but it soon became apparent that Vernon wasn’t there.

  All the way to the city, Alice smiled bravely as if she too shared in the general happiness. She swallowed down tears. Inside, her anxiety mounted at the thought of being with Vernon again. Surely he would be pleased to see her? She had come all this way for him.

  CHAPTER 26

  There was a chaotic entry into the cantonment as quarters were found for the new arrivals. Sandy had to go with MacNaughten into the city to accompany Shah Shuja back to the Balla Hissar with all the ceremony that a returning monarch demanded.

  ‘I’ll get word to Vernon that you are here,’ Sandy promised.

  ‘You must share our house with us,’ Emily insisted, ‘until Vernon secures one of your own. Ours is already furnished.’

  Alice unpacked enough of their possessions as would fit in the small spare bedroom and busied herself making it homely with rugs, a colourful bedspread and muslin drapes to give them privacy. Lotty had grown too big for her cradle over the winter so Alice had had a cot made in Jalalabad, which one of the servants now assembled. As evening came, Alice and Emily sat with their children while they ate their supper and waited for the men to come. Even from four miles away they could hear the gun salutes and fireworks in celebration of the amir’s return.

  ‘They probably won’t be able to get away,’ Emily said. ‘Partying all night by the sound of it.’

  Alice knew her friend was trying to calm her anxiety but she could hardly bear the wait. She just wanted the moment to be over when she would meet her husband again after a year and a half of separation.

  An exhausted Sandy arrived late in the night, rousing the women from sleep.

  ‘I couldn’t find Vernon – it was bedlam everywhere in the city with the return of the court. I left a message. I’m sure he’ll come tomorrow.’

  He could hardly look Alice in the eye. She suspected that he wasn’t telling her the truth but nodded in agreement.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, and retreated to bed again.

  She could hear the Aytons talking heatedly in the bedroom next door, Emily firing questions and Sandy sounding defensive. Alice knew they were talking about Vernon but couldn’t hear distinctly. She would not demean herself by pressing her ear to the wall to eavesdrop.

  The next day, Alice said to Sandy, ‘Will you take me into the city to find Vernon? I don’t think I can bear to wait any longer.’

  He looked alarmed by the suggestion. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. The city isn’t terribly safe for foreign women – you’d stand out—’

  ‘Sandy will fetch Vernon,’ said Emily firmly. ‘Won’t you, dear?’ She fixed her husband with a look.

  ‘I shall do my best,’ Sandy said, trying to hide his worry with a smile.

  As the sun was setting in a ball of fire across the plain, Vernon walked into the cantonment house. Emily quickly took Alexa
nder by the hand.

  ‘We’ll go and help feed the horses,’ she said to the boy, ‘and leave you in peace.’

  Alice’s heart drummed as she faced her husband. She was shocked at the state of him. He had shed weight – his jacket loose on his shoulders – and his face was gaunt and scored with lines around the mouth. His eyes looked glassy and bloodshot, the skin below bruised. His wavy blond hair had thinned. It looked dry and unkempt.

  ‘Vernon,’ she gasped, and held out her arms.

  He stood for a moment looking disorientated and then smiled and stepped towards her.

  ‘Alice,’ he said, his voice rasping. ‘You look well.’

  They hugged briefly, then stood holding hands; his were shaking. His whole body was trembling and his breath smelt sour.

  ‘Have you been ill?’ she asked in concern.

  He muttered, ‘This place makes me ill.’ He stared at her. ‘I can’t believe you’ve come all this way.’

  ‘I wanted to be with you,’ she said, ‘and be a family together. I’m desperate for you to meet Lotty. It’s nearly her first birthday and you’ve never even seen her—’

  ‘You’ve brought her here?’ Vernon exclaimed.

  ‘Of course.’ Alice smiled. ‘Didn’t you read any of my letters? She’s in her cot. Come.’ Alice took him by the hand and led him into the bedroom.

  Lotty was lying on her back, her arms thrown up as if in surrender, her face pink in sleep.

  ‘Isn’t your daughter beautiful?’ Alice whispered.

  Vernon was suddenly overcome. He nodded, his eyes flooding with tears. Alice went to put her arm around him but he shook her off.

  ‘You shouldn’t have brought her here!’ he hissed.

  Alice flinched at his sudden mood change.

  ‘It’s a godforsaken place. There’s fever and danger – the country’s full of villains who would jump at the chance of carrying off a feringhi child and selling her into slavery – ’specially a fair-haired one.’