In September, when Sale’s Brigade was about to begin its march back to India, without any warning the Ghilzai chieftains from the south of the country, who had been residing in Kabul for some weeks, left the capital. They had been there to argue about reductions in the monthly ‘retainers’ being paid by the Company to ‘loyal’ Afghans, and the official reaction was that they had left because McNaghton had refused to reconsider his instructions, which had been to cut down on the costs of the occupation.
Whatever the truth of the matter, the Ghilzais fled to their tribesmen in the mountains above the Khyber Pass, and these promptly blocked the roads leading to Jellalabad, the fortress which covered the Pass and thus the shortest route to and from Peshawar and India.
Colonel Monteath was therefore despatched as an advance guard to open the passage, Sale’s Brigade following behind; McNaghton decided to remain in Kabul until the road was open before travelling south. The women and children were also told to remain until the Ghilzais had been dealt with.
The Brigade marched out with as much ceremony as it had marched in two years earlier. Once they were gone, although it was now well into October, since there was as yet no snow the British community settled down to winding up the racing season and playing a few last cricket matches.
Returning home from one of these, Laura found Batraj waiting for her.
*
Her first reaction was relief that Akbar was not with him. Her second was alarm at his evident delight with the situation.
‘The hour of deliverance is at hand, my dearest Laura,’ he told her.
‘You are mad,’ she protested. ‘The British are as strong as ever.’
‘They are but a shell. Sale is gone. His people will never reach the border.’
Laura swallowed. ‘Four thousand soldiers?’
‘They will be overwhelmed, by our people. The Ghilzais have given the signal for a general rising of the Afghans. Akbar Khan himself is with them. As for this rabble, commanded by a sick man whose brain is addled, they will fall like plums shaken from a tree.’ He hugged her. ‘Consider their dispositions. They lodge themselves in cantonments outside the city. They are using their outlying forts as commissariat storehouses, with but an ordinary guard in each. Are these not the acts of fools or madmen, drunk with their own arrogance? And this Brigadier Shelton has his men yet a mile further off. He fears to involve them in the life of the city because of their lack of discipline. These are the men who will hold Afghanistan?’
‘The Company is planning to leave it to Shah Shuja to hold the city,’ Laura said desperately. ‘Have you seen the garrison encamped in the Bala Hissar?’
‘They too are a rabble, and have already been suborned by our agents. I promise you, Laura, you are about to witness the greatest defeat ever suffered by British arms in India. Not one of them will escape. And you and I will be avenged for many an insult.’ He held her in his arms. ‘But more important, Dost Mohammed will then be restored, and Kabul will again be our city.’
Laura shuddered.
*
Batraj stayed for several days, before leaving the house secretly clad as an ordinary hillman. But Laura could no longer doubt that his plans, and those of Prince Akbar, were just about finalised.
Nor could she doubt that every member of his household was absolutely faithful to him. Even Miljah, though she hated the thought of Thuggism, hated the British more. As for Nanja, she could only regard them as the people who had killed her husband.
Laura could not even confide in Sivitraj, because she was unsure where his loyalties lay, while Wu Li, though quite uninterested in Afghan politics so long as she had two meals a day, was too scatterbrained to share secrets, and Mary was far too young.
So the burden was hers alone. After Batraj had left, assuring her that the next time he returned it would be for good, Laura virtually invited herself to tea at Florentia Sale’s. To her disappointment, there were several other women there, happily discussing their arrangements for Christmas. Laura grimly sat them all out. After the last one left, Florentia began to show some signs of impatience that her friend was still there. ‘I’m afraid I am rather tired,’ she began.
‘I must speak with you, in confidence, on a most urgent matter,’ Laura said.
Florentia sat down. ‘Well? I hope these are not more fears about Afghan revolts. My dear Laura, it simply will not do. Sir William is well aware that you are producing these chimeras in an effort to be allowed to return to Bombay. He is not going to be taken in.’
Laura sat beside her. ‘They are not chimeras, Florentia. You know that I am married to a Hindu and a Thug, Prince Batraj.’
Florentia frowned. ‘I know that you are his widow.’
‘I am his wife. Batraj is alive and well, and was in my house three days ago. He has been in Kabul several times. Last spring...’ she gave an involuntary shudder, ‘he was accompanied by Prince Akbar.’
Florentia’s frown had deepened. ‘Is this true? Why did you not report it at the time?’ Then another thought crossed her mind. Did you know this when you were, ah...seeing Major Bartlett?’
‘No, I didn’t.’
Florentia looked sceptical, and most disapproving. While she was broad-minded enough to accept the idea of adultery on the part of a man with a widow, the idea that Laura had also been committing adultery was clearly unacceptable. ‘But you decided not to report it at the time,’ she said again.
‘Do you have any idea what would have been done to me, and to my son, if I had betrayed my husband and the Prince?’
‘But you are betraying them now.’
‘I have no choice. Listen to me.’ She held her friend’s hands. ‘This Ghilzai revolt has nothing to do with their being paid less money. It is all part of a plan. Your husband’s brigade is going to be wiped out in the mountains.’
Florentia’s entire body stiffened.
‘Once that is done, there will be an Afghan uprising here in Kabul. It is all planned. They mean to massacre every man, woman and child who is attached to the British cause. And they will do it, Florentia. You do not know these people as I do.’
Florentia gazed at her. ‘My husband...have you any proof of what you have just said?’
‘No. But it is the truth.’
‘You must come with me at once to Sir William. And General Elphinstone.’
‘Do you suppose they will believe me?’
‘They will have to,’ Lady Sale declared. ‘It is my husband’s life we are speaking about.’
*
But Elphinstone and McNaghton were only interested in the fact that Batraj was still alive.
‘And you have entertained that Thug and Akbar in your home, without reporting it to the proper authorities?’ McNaghton demanded. ‘Do you realise, madam, that not-withstanding any agreement we may have come to, I have every right to place you under arrest for harbouring wanted criminals?’
‘Oh, stuff and nonsense,’ Florentia Sale snapped. ‘A woman can hardly be expected to turn in her own husband, however despicable he may be.’
‘And the Dowager Rani would have been in considerable danger had she done so,’ Burnes, who was fortunately also present, pointed out. ‘It seems to me that we should address ourselves to the news she has now brought us despite her personal danger.’
‘Oh, I agree this trouble with the Ghilzais is very provoking,’ McNaghton said. ‘It is delaying my departure for Bombay, and I am most anxious to get there. But your husband’s brigade is the one that defeated the Afghans two years ago, Lady Sale. There can be no doubt that he will clear the passes, and before the snow sets in.’ He glanced contemptuously at Laura. ‘Wars are not won by either rumour or faint-heartedness.’
Elphinstone was slightly more forthcoming. But he was as usual only half-dressed and clearly in considerable discomfort. ‘There have been reports of some severe fighting in the south,’ he agreed. ‘But as far as I know General Sale is overcoming all obstacles.’
With that Florentia and
Laura had to be content.
‘I can only hope and pray that you are wrong, Laura,’ Florentia said. ‘But I am nonetheless grateful for your loyalty. Be sure I shall remember it.’
That was a small crumb when Laura had no doubt they all faced catastrophe.
*
Three days later, on 2 November, Laura was awakened by a tremendous noise. Quickly dressing herself, she sent Nanja out to discover what was happening. Nanja returned within a few minutes. ‘There is a great crowd around the Treasury House,’ she said. ‘And also the house of Sir Burnes. They are breaking down the gates.’
‘My God!’ Laura said. ‘What are the soldiers doing?’
‘The Sepoys in the house are shooting our people,’ Nanja said angrily.
‘They are protecting the envoy,’ Laura snapped. ‘What of Shah Shuja’s men?’
‘Oh, they are helping our people, Highness.’
Laura realised that the revolt had begun. She told Sivitraj and Mary to dress, all the while trying to arrive at a decision. Her safest course was to remain in her house, but that was safe only in the short term. Even if the Afghans would never attack the residence of Prince Batraj, as they surely knew he was still alive, if they conquered and the British were driven out of Afghanistan, she would be tied irrevocably to Batraj for the rest of her life. And if the rising was put down the fact that she had warned the occupying army would almost certainly become known, and she would not be able to remain in Kabul without having to face Batraj’s vengeance.
Yet she hesitated for half an hour, a period punctuated by shots and screams, and shrieks of agony and vengeance. She ran on to the roof in time to see the naked body of the unfortunate envoy, whom she still regarded as one of her very few friends, being carried by on the points of several spears. He had been castrated and beheaded, and his blood dripped on to the cheering faces beneath him. Behind him were carried his brother and Lieutenant Broadfoot, similarly mutilated.
Laura gasped in horror. But at least such a tragedy would surely force even Elphinstone into action. She had warned them it was going to happen. She ran downstairs, and gathered up her children.
‘Where are you going, Highness?’ Nanja demanded.
‘I am going to the British,’ Laura told her. ‘Will you come with me?’
‘Never!’ Nanja declared. ‘You are betraying our master.’
‘The decision is yours,’ Laura told her. ‘I am sorry for it. I had thought we were friends.’
‘How can I be friends with a betrayer of our cause?’ Nanja spat.
‘I am sorry for that, too,’ Laura said. ‘But do not try to stop me. Miljah?’
‘I will come with you, Highness,’ Miljah said, as Laura had known she would.
The women put on their veils while Nanja gazed at them with smouldering eyes. Then they stole from the house, mingling with the crowds who were playing football with the heads of the three murdered men.
Holding Mary tightly against her and attempting not to look at the horror being perpetrated, with Sivitraj, Wu Li and Miljah close behind, Laura made her way through the crowds until she reached the commissariat fort in the suburbs of the city. Here she was admitted by the sentries and taken before their commander, Captain Mackenzie. The Captain had heard the tumult in the city but was unaware of the reason; there were tumults almost every day in Kabul. Now he listened with horror to what Laura had to tell him.
‘My God!’ he said. ‘You were right all along, Highness.’
‘You must evacuate this post and join the brigade,’ she said.
‘I cannot abandon the commissariat without orders,’ he said. ‘We will defend it.’ He immediately gave orders to his Sepoys, who took up their positions, while a horseman was despatched to the cantonment to inform General Elphinstone of what was happening. The fort was a round building with thick stone walls, small windows which were nothing more than loopholes, a heavy wooden door, and a flat roof with crenellated upper walls; it was certainly easily defensible by a hundred determined men, so long as the garrison had ammunition and food and water, and the enemy had no heavy guns.
‘You have my permission to leave, if you wish, Highness,’ Mackenzie told Laura, ‘but I am afraid I can spare no men to escort you.’
Laura hesitated. It was a long mile out to the cantonments. ‘On the other hand, if you stay here,’ Mackenzie told her, understanding her predicament, ‘I have no doubt that the brigade will come down, both to our rescue and to punish these rascals, the moment my messenger gets there.’
Laura decided that was the safest course. She had definitely burned her bridges now, and for her children as well. It was her only chance of getting out of Kabul, and free of Batraj. That it should have happened so unexpectedly filled her with a tremendous sense of exhilaration, which was tempered by fear and her horror at the dreadful death of poor Burnes.
*
Over the next half hour several other women with their children sought refuge in the little fort, and fairly close behind them came a huge crowd of Afghans, mainly men, although there were some women with them, brandishing their weapons.
‘Hold your fire until they make a hostile move,’ Mackenzie told his men. ‘Ladies, kindly sit on the floor.’
They obeyed, huddled together, although Sivitraj was plainly disgusted at being included with them. The other refugees were mainly wives of merchants who were known to be friendly to the British. All of them knew Laura by sight, but none of them knew her socially, and they stared at her with wide eyes as she sat with them. Laura realised that for the first time in her life she was actually about to come under fire; she hugged Mary, and smiled at Sivitraj who glowered at her; his loyalties were too divided.
The attack began at midday. The Afghans surged forward, and were met by determined volleys from the company of Sepoys. Some of the attackers got right up to the barricaded door of the fort, but could not force an entry, while the men on the roof poured musket fire down on them. Women screamed, and smoke eddied about, making breathing difficult. Mackenzie was everywhere, sword in hand, and the Afghans at last retired, leaving several dead behind.
‘Cease firing, reload,’ Mackenzie snapped. ‘Havildar, attend to the wounded. Every third man may withdraw for water. Ladies, is any of you hit?’
None was, and only half a dozen of the Sepoys were wounded.
‘Surely this is our business?’ Laura asked.
Mackenzie frowned. ‘To tend the wounded? I have never heard of it.’
‘You need all your people to defend the fort,’ Laura insisted. ‘Ladies, shall we not play our part?’
Thus encouraged, the other women came to her aid, even climbing the ladder to the roof to bind the wounds of the men up there; none of them was very seriously hurt, although there was a great deal of blood and insufficient dressings, so that soon enough the women were tearing lengths from their petticoats to make bandages.
Mackenzie watched in amazed admiration.
‘Will they attack again, sir?’ Mary asked him.
‘Oh, they’ll come again, my dear. But we’ll hold them until the brigade arrives.’
In fact the Afghans did not immediately attack again, but settled down to shooting at anyone who moved inside the windows or on the roof. Mackenzie had with difficulty to restrain his men from replying, both because that involved showing themselves and to conserve their limited store of ammunition. Meanwhile they got hit anyway, as bullets came in through the windows and ricocheted to and fro. Laura was in mortal fear for her children, but they survived unharmed. Several of the women were struck, and had to be attended to, as well as an increasing number of Sepoys. The already-crowded floor became slippery with blood and encumbered with bodies.
Nevertheless, Laura resolutely prepared a meal for all the defenders, and insisted that they eat. Food was no problem in a commissariat store, but she was concerned at the shortage of water.
And still no help arrived, nor any sign of it.
‘The General will be preparing his attac
k,’ Mackenzie told his people.
It was certainly not a good idea to let anyone suppose help was not coming.
A second Afghan assault took place in the middle of the afternoon, when a determined attempt was made to break down the door, by piling brush against it and setting it on fire. Lacking sufficient water, there was nothing the garrison could do except endure the scorching heat and swirling smoke, shooting again and again into the mass of men outside.
Once more the Afghans were driven back by the intensity of the resistance, and as soon as the fire had burned itself out Mackenzie had his men pile bags of meal in the doorway to resist the next attack, but now the situation was desperate. Several of the Sepoys had been killed, a good half were wounded, the door was broken in, and even in the cool of November the bodies which had been lying outside the building for several hours began to stink.
‘Either your messenger did not get through, Captain, or General Elphinstone has decided not to send his people to your aid,’ Laura pointed out, putting the unthinkable into words. ‘And there is only a single ration of water remaining.’
Mackenzie chewed his moustache in frustration. He was as aware as Laura that, given the General’s reputation for indecision, the latter was the most likely.
‘We’ll have to fight our way out,’ he decided. ‘As soon as it is dark.’
‘And the women?’
‘They’ll have to come, or stay and be massacred. What of yourself?’
‘I will come with you, Captain. Have no fear of that.’
The preparations were made carefully and quietly, but at dusk there was another Afghan assault which had to be driven back, and another lot of wounds to be tended, so that it was not until midnight that all was ready for the break out.
‘Please understand, ladies,’ the Captain told them, ‘that once we leave the building we cannot stop for any purpose whatsoever. You must keep up.’
Bayonets were fixed, and every musket loaded. The Sepoys formed a hollow square, with the women and children in the centre. When all was ready, Mackenzie lit the powder train to the stores they were being forced to leave behind, and gave the word; the advance guard pulled away the last of the sacks barricading the doorway, and the small body marched out.
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