Sword of Empire

by Christopher Nicole

  The Afghans were taken entirely by surprise; indeed, most of the besiegers seemed to be asleep. Before they could gather their wits the Sepoys had charged through them, using their bayonets to clear the way. Then before the besiegers could rally, the abandoned fortress exploded, which further con-founded them. By the time they had worked out exactly what had happened, the little detachment was hurrying towards the cantonments. But no effort was made to come out to the fugitives’ rescue, and they had to withstand several assaults before they were safe beneath the fire of the guns.

  The march took them about half an hour, and while the darkness certainly confused their attackers, many of whom were firing on each other, several more people were hit. They arrived with scarcely anyone unwounded, save for Sivitraj; Mary had a scratch and Laura found several bullets in her clothes; fortunately the Afghan powder was of very poor quality, and she suffered no more than bruises.

  Everyone was exhausted but happy to have survived. Laura went straight away to see Elphinstone. She had never been so angry in her life.

  She found McNaghton with him.

  ‘Well, gentlemen?’ she inquired.

  ‘What is the meaning of this riot?’ McNaghton demanded. ‘Did you not get Captain Mackenzie’s message?’

  ‘We got a message, but we could scarcely credit it.’

  ‘And you did nothing? While your colleague was being murdered. And several other good people besides?’

  ‘By your friends,’ McNaghton remarked.

  ‘I warned you of the probability of this happening, Sir William,’ she reminded him. ‘Not once but several times.’

  ‘What to do,’ Elphinstone mumbled. ‘What to do. You do not know our problems, Highness.’

  ‘She may as well,’ McNaghton snapped. ‘Everyone else will know it by morning. We would have come to your aid, madam, but when General Shelton commanded his English regiment to march on the city the poltroons refused.’

  ‘Oh, my God!’ Laura said.

  ‘Oh, they will defend us here,’ McNaghton said. ‘If only because they are also defending themselves. But offensive action is another matter. You had best take my advice, General, and send for Sale and his people. He cannot be that far away. Until he arrives, we will act only on the defensive.’

  ‘Can you not see that is the one thing you must not do?’ Laura cried. ‘The Afghans are now convinced that they have won a great victory. Their morale will grow, and more people will join them, unless they are defeated now.’

  ‘Hark at who is giving me military advice,’ Elphinstone grumbled.

  ‘We must wait for Sale,’ McNaghton said. ‘If the 44th will not fight, we have no other option. And now, madam, I am sure you are very tired...’ he looked her up and down, taking in the torn and bloodstained sari. ‘You are certainly in need of a change of clothing. And the General and I have a great deal to discuss. Good night to you.’

  *

  Laura took refuge with Florentia who, like everyone else, was awake. Her daughter Barbara was with her.

  ‘I know, it is a terrible business,’ Florentia agreed. ‘And it is being hopelessly mismanaged. But as soon as Robert gets here the tables will be turned and we will settle it all. Poor Burnes. And poor Broadfoot. It really is a most sad affair. But at least you are safe, dear Laura, and your dear children.’

  They were given a bath, and hot tea, and Laura exchanged her tattered sari for an English gown and underclothes, for she and Florentia were much the same size. It felt extremely odd to be so constrained after so many years of almost total freedom, but she also felt it marked her final break with the life she had been forced to live throughout those years. Dr Bryden came in to dress Mary’s wound, which was very slight, and then Laura slept heavily, despite her discomfort and her fears for the future.

  *

  The complacency with which the British accepted the murder of Burnes and his colleagues astonished Laura; it was apparently held that men who accepted positions in ‘heathen’ countries must accept these risks as a matter of course.

  Even more disturbing, however, was the utter chaos within the cantonments. Elphinstone was apparently unable to think of anything save defence, and he now called in his detachments from every one of the outlying forts, apparently oblivious of the fact that those forts not only contained most of his reserves of food and ammunition, but that they overlooked the British position which they had been intended to defend. As soon as the British marched out, the Afghans marched in.

  Not all of the forts were evacuated without loss; from one of them came news that the British officers had been cut to pieces by their own Sepoys, who promptly joined the rebels. While this catastrophe was in progress, the entire brigade, more than four thousand men, watched. Although the 44th manned the walls of the cantonments, they steadfastly refused to attack the rebels, and as they would not, the Sepoys also refused to do battle. The idea of British troops behaving so badly, and not immediately being punished for it, was quite unacceptable, but there was no means of enforcing discipline save by using the Indian troops to overawe the white, and that was apparently not considered. When Laura thought of the way Mackenzie and his gallant company had first defended themselves and then marched right through the Afghan ranks, she wanted to weep. She seemed to have jumped from the frying pan into the fire, for she could have no doubt that Batraj had by now joined the Afghan forces, and the thought of falling into his hands after she had broken their pact and attempted to escape made her blood run cold.

  In these circumstances she found her new position as resident heroine something of an embarrassment. Mackenzie told everyone how she had tended the wounded during the defence of the commissariat, and Florentia equally told everyone how she had given a positive warning of the coming insurrection, which had been ignored. Laura found that everyone wished to speak with her, save of course for Elphinstone and McNaghton.

  *

  With every day the insurrection grew in strength, and the defenders were driven from position to position until they held only the cantonments themselves. Meanwhile, from the city there came the most dreadful noises as Shah Shuja’s officers were hacked to pieces, although the Shah himself was apparently being held captive, possibly with a view to future negotiations.

  From Laura’s point of view it was like re-living the attack on the commissariat force, save that there was now no possibility of any brigade coming to their rescue. A messenger got into the cantonment just before it was entirely surrounded to say that Brigadier General Sale was unable to return owing to his own losses and the numbers of men massed against him, and that he was fighting his way through to the fortress of Jellalabad, which he intended to hold until reinforcements came up from India. He could only hope and pray that the garrison of Kabul would do the same.

  Laura was with Florentia when the news was received. Lady Sale squared her shoulders. ‘If Robert says he cannot return, then it is clearly impossible,’ she declared. ‘As for holding Jellalabad, that is the obvious course; the Khyber Pass must be kept open for the relief column which is on its way.’

  *

  Her optimism was admirable, but bore no relation to reality that Laura could see. McNaghton had despatched riders to the south requesting assistance immediately after Burnes’s murder, but there was absolutely no certainty that any of them had got through. Even if one had, she knew from experience how long it took not only to regain Bombay, but then to raise an army and march it north. They were talking in terms of at least a year, she estimated, and a year was a good deal too long. By the end of the first week in December the garrison was very short of food, although there remained ample water from the wells within the cantonment.

  Refusing to be downhearted, the English ladies continued to prepare for Christmas, and Laura and Mary were required to join them in making paper chains and other decorations. Sivitraj watched the proceedings with brooding anger. Laura could not penetrate his reserve, and could not therefore be sure whether he was angry at the British inefficiency
or at the Afghans’ failure to attack; although they kept up a desultory fire in order to make the defenders’ lives a misery, the besiegers made no effort to come to grips. They had no reason to; they knew the state of the British food supply.

  Thus on 11 December McNaghton, realising that his people could hold out at best for another fortnight, sent out a white flag and called for a parley with the besieging chieftains, which was agreed. Almost the entire garrison lined the low walls surrounding the cantonments to watch as McNaghton, accompanied by his staff, descended the slight hill to where the Afghan chieftains waited. Laura strained her eyes, but the distance was too great to make out any faces, and there was no means of knowing if Batraj was there.

  McNaghton returned in a good humour. ‘Children,’ he said contemptuously. ‘I have always said they are children. They are willing to agree all of my terms. All they wish is for us to leave Kabul.’

  ‘Will they send in food supplies?’ Florentia inquired.

  ‘Of course. But it will take time. You must understand that things are difficult for them, now that the snows have started.’

  Indeed it was snowing, not heavily, but with a quiet persistence, and the hills were white.

  ‘There is also the matter,’ the Envoy told them, ‘that the chieftains themselves have no power to agree to anything binding without the consent of Prince Akbar. He has been sent for, and will be here in a few days. It merely requires us to be patient. I know it will be said that we have suffered a defeat, and been forced to march away in shame. But we will do so with all the honours of war, and in the certainty that we have done our duty.’

  Laura could only contrast this attitude with his arrogance of a few weeks before. But now he sent for her.

  ‘It is time to consider your position, Your Highness,’ he said. ‘Amongst the chieftains with whom I spoke was your husband.’ He held up his finger as she would have spoken. ‘I understand that you warned us this would be the case, when it was too late for me to do anything about it. However, there it is. Prince Batraj, not unnaturally, is demanding the return of his wife and family.’

  Laura clasped her throat. ‘He will murder me.’

  ‘I am aware of the difficulties of your position, madam, just as I am aware that these difficulties are largely self-inflicted. May I ask what you wish of us now?’

  ‘I wish to accompany you when you leave Kabul,’ Laura said.

  ‘To Bombay and a trial?’

  ‘Yes, if that is what it comes to. I have deserted my husband, and I have betrayed his plans to you. If I stay here, I will be murdered.’

  ‘And if your surrender is made a part of any possible agreement with Akbar Khan?’

  Laura inhaled, slowly and deeply. ‘Then I must rely upon your honour as an English gentleman.’

  ‘You, a self-confessed Thug, have the nerve to appeal to my honour as an English gentleman? Madam, you amaze me.’ He waved his hand. ‘Oh, do not remind me, you were forced to it. What do you suppose would be the reaction of the people for whom I am responsible, given the choice; your life or theirs? I shall do my best for you, madam, because, as you say, I am an English gentleman. But I do so with no great feelings of sympathy, or indeed, much hope of success. Good day to you.’

  *

  Laura was utterly crushed. She fled to Florentia’s room and collapsed in tears in her arms.

  ‘Wretched man,’ Florentia remarked. ‘Do not fear, my dear; Batraj will not get his hands on you again.’

  But whenever McNaghton went down the hill to confer with the Afghans Laura was in tremendous fear. The worst of all was not knowing; he did not send for her again to tell her how things were going. She did, however, gather that everything was awaiting the arrival of Akbar Khan, but she could not see that improving her position: Akbar might well wish her for himself.

  Meanwhile it snowed, and grew steadily colder. There was almost no fuel left inside the cantonments, and the defenders crowded against each other for warmth, Florentia, Barbara, Laura, Mary and Wu Li in a huddle, wearing every piece of clothing they could fit on. Lieutenant Sturt was a tower of strength, always cheerful and confident, and apparently oblivious of discomfort. Sivitraj brooded, and did not even seek Wu Li’s company. And Miljah kept entirely to herself; she seemed already to have accepted death.

  The cold was accentuated by their hunger, for the Afghans had not yet delivered any of the promised supplies, and they were down to quarter rations. They gazed down the hill at the lights and smoking chimneys of Kabul with hungry eyes, Laura remembering the huge warm fires her servants had built for her, and the succulent dishes they had cooked for her. But at last, three days before Christmas, there was a great clashing of cymbals and blowing of bugles, and a huge assembly of banners. Akbar Khan had arrived.

  *

  Next morning, 23 December, McNaghton and his staff rode down the hill as before to meet the Prince, and finalise the details of the British withdrawal.

  There was a huge assembly of Afghan chieftains, and large numbers of their people as well. Again Laura could make out no faces, but she could tell where Akbar was from the banners which clustered behind him. McNaghton and his officers were swallowed up in the throng, and the watchers could only wait for them to re-emerge.

  Instead, after quite a short period, there was a sudden upheaval of movement in the midst of the crowd, which spread rapidly in every direction, while the sound of a single pistol shot echoed up the hill.

  ‘Oh, my God!’ Laura muttered, and hugged Mary against her.

  Beneath them the tumult spread, and now they caught a glimpse of one of the British officers, half naked, being thrown about like a sack of corn.

  ‘For God’s sake!’ Florentia Sale shouted. ‘Fire into them, General.’

  ‘Fire on our own people?’ Elphinstone demanded.

  ‘Those men are being murdered. You cannot save their lives. You can only avenge them.’

  Elphinstone pulled his moustache in uncertainty, but it was in any event too late. Laura watched the naked, mutilated bodies of the four men being hoisted on spears and carried triumphantly back towards the city.

  However much she had quarrelled with McNaghton, and indeed loathed the man, she felt sick.

  *

  The garrison was numbed by the disaster. Elphinstone seemed most numbed of all. ‘What’s to be done?’ he muttered. ‘What’s to be done.’

  ‘What is going to happen to us, Mother?’ Mary asked, as they ate a very frugal luncheon.

  ‘We are all going to be killed,’ Sivitraj said savagely. ‘Because these British do not know how to fight.’

  ‘Whatever happens,’ Laura told them, ‘we must be prepared to die with honour.’

  She wondered if the little girl had any idea what she was talking about.

  *

  To their surprise, that afternoon an Afghan came up the hill, under a white flag, and spoke with Elphinstone. It was the request of Akbar Khan that the British resume negotiations. The envoy explained that McNaghton had secretly been plotting with various chieftains to betray Akbar and reinstate British rule, and that when this treachery had become known, the Prince’s loyal chieftains had fallen upon the British party and cut them to pieces before they could be restrained.

  ‘It is a complete lie, of course,’ said Major Pottinger, the senior remaining political officer.

  ‘Nevertheless, to resume negotiations is our only hope of survival,’ Elphinstone said.

  Pottinger was left with no option. But he was generally felt to be a singularly brave man as he descended the hill on Christmas morning. All thought of celebration was forgotten as the spectators wondered if they would ever again see him alive.

  He returned, unharmed, a few hours later.

  ‘We are allowed to march out, with whatever we can carry,’ he said bitterly.

  ‘What of food?’

  ‘There is none to spare. We must manage as best we can. We are also to take with us all the people of Kabul who supported Shah Shuja.’


  ‘But you are talking of thousands!’ Elphinstone protested.

  ‘Quite.’

  ‘That is impossible.’

  ‘Those are Akbar’s terms. Or we can sit here and starve.’

  Elphinstone pulled his moustache. ‘Can we reach Jellalabad, Major?’

  ‘I believe some of us may do so,’ Pottinger replied.

  *

  The news was received with mingled fear and hope. No-one could suppose the march to Jellalabad, through snow-covered mountain passes, would be anything less than terrible. But it held out a prospect for survival for some of them, as Pottinger had said.

  Yet once again there were alarming delays. Several of the women were pregnant, and one unfortunate actually gave birth during the waiting period, while Akbar would not permit the defendents to leave until all those who had shown some loyalty to Shah Shuja had been accumulated. The Shah himself, however, was retained as a prisoner, and the British made no great effort to obtain his release to accompany them; Laura could not imagine what the poor old gentleman’s feelings might be.

  Thus the withdrawal did not begin until 6 January. During the intervening time the besieged had to put up with the insolence of the Afghans who, now that there was actually a truce between the two sides, came right up to the cantonments to stare at them and make obscene remarks and threats. Laura was in a sweat of fear that Batraj would renew his demand for her return, or indeed appear before the walls to claim her, but he did not. She dared not speculate on his absence, but she could hardly wait to start moving.

  The brigade now numbered some four thousand, five hundred armed men, of whom approximately seven hundred were British and the rest Sepoys. To this had to be added several thousand camp followers.

  Brigadier Shelton and Elphinstone commanded the main body of troops, with whom were the women and children, the sick and wounded, and what baggage they had been able to accumulate, together with the food supply; as it was considered impossible for any of the white women to walk, they were either mounted on mules or carried in huge panniers suspended from camels, of which there were a good number. Laura and Mary shared a mule, riding astride, and Sivitraj, Wu Li and Miljah walked beside them. Behind them and around them swarmed the immense horde of Afghan women and children, and quite a few men. These were in mortal fear of their lives, and with reason, for as the British marched out of the cantonments, the Afghans broke in. Heart-rending screams came from those who had not evacuated fast enough and were being murdered, while almost immediately the last of the British was in the open, firing began, replied to by the rearguard of fifty men.