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7. COISTAUN CHIEF AND HIS RETAINERS.
The following is a continuation of our reconnoitring tour through the valley, commenced in the subject of the Hawkers. Our party, after leaving Caraize, was increased by the presence of Capt. Codrington and my brother, and the group introduced into this sketch formed one of the numerous escorts which, in our rides from fort to fort through the valley, poured out, headed by their respective Khauns, to do honour to and swell the train of the big-wigs. Having agreed the evening before to rise early, in order to have a long day’s sight-seeing, we were in the saddle at “wukt e namauz,” – the hour of prayer, or day-break. The moon was still up as we came into a very hilly district, an unpleasurable waste of country, and then descended suddenly into the flat uncultivated plain of Begraum, which we surveyed with great interest as being the site of the ancient city of the Caucasian Alexandria. We dismounted to inspect attentively the celebrated “tope,” or tomb, supposed to have been raised over Alexander the Great’s mighty steed Bucephalus. We found it built on the extreme edge of the mountain, on two sides rendered impassable by immense piles of broken rocks, and overlooking the plain of Begraum, a mass of extensive ruins of tumuli, aqueducts, &c. Coins, rings, and other antiques have been dug up here, and the Afghaun villagers produced handfuls of the first; but their genuineness was doubted, as they are expert at coining them. From this we crossed over the Punsheer river, and spread out our breakfast at Joolgha, which is a very diminutive fort. During the unsuccessful storm of it in 1840, Meer Musjidee and Khojah Padshauh (the principal figure in this sketch) were allowed to escape from it, with other chiefs of distinction. The latter had offered his allegiance during our tour, having come in from Nigrow, the “yaugee” (angry) and independent valley, east of Coistaun.
On turning our steps back to Chareekar, the Règ-ruwaun (flowing or moving sand) was our next visit of interest. This most singular phenomenon is a wide sheet of the finest sand, descending almost perpendicularly the side of a hill from its very summit. It is a conspicuous object from all parts of the valley. Though the sand is constantly moving downwards, it never flows beyond a certain boundary. An eminent saint is buried near, and the Afghauns assemble there for worship, or pleasure, and to hear the bands of music, which they declare play on particular days to their saint. We certainly heard a remarkable sound, though not on the favorite day, which is Friday. It was not unlike the faint music of an Eolian harp, but certainly resembling neither drums nor trumpets, as they assert: whether it be caused by echo or the motion of the shifting sand, we could not tell. The Afghauns assured us it was fortunate to climb up to the top of this steep and wonderful sheet, which, being in addition four hundred feet high, was no easy matter. Many of our party tried, but not more than one or two out of forty succeeded in it, owing to the slipperiness and perpetual motion of the fine sand. Many “ate dirt” on that occasion, tumbling head-over-heels in their cumbrous robes, upsetting each other, with loud shouts of laughter, and losing shoes, boots, and turbans in their abrupt descent. We must have astonished the saint with our noise and clamour over-head, if he slept beneath the sandy coverlit we had been so rudely disarranging, and without doubt his saintliness was delighted when we left him to his music and meditations. Close to the Règ-ruwaun is a small building, containing a subterranean chamber, the walls and ceiling of which are painted in figures and groups of animals. They bear the appearance of antiquity, and are said by the Afghauns to be remains of idol worship practiced by the former inhabitants of the country.
We rode afterwards to the battle-field of Purwaundurrah, where my brother, who was present at that bloody and ill-starred struggle, pointed out to us the positions taken up by Dost Mahommed and our army. By means of good political information, his Highness (who was making his way to the strong mountain village Istaulif, where he purposed remaining until reinforced with men and money from Caubul) was intercepted exactly in the mouth of the valley. Our force arrived just in time to see his footmen scampering up the hills ahead of them, and his cavalry making for a low ridge, with the intention of retracing their steps to the ground they had left during the night. Dr Lord, who was in the advance as Political Agent, seeing their purpose, applied for two squadrons of the 2nd Cavalry to cut them off. They trotted round the base of the hills to the spot whither the enemy were hastening, and arrived there before them. This politic movement drove them to a small detached hill, and we were all congratulating ourselves at having got Dost Mahommed at last in a punch-bowl, when some of his cavalry were seen moving down towards our force, which consisted of three hundred men, well armed, mounted like princes, and led by officers as good as Englishmen should be. My brother was standing with his Jaunbaz about a mile from them; Afghaun horse having been forbidden by the officer commanding to accompany his cavalry – party because it was thought they could not be trusted against Dost Mahommed. From this position the enemy’s cavalry could easily be seen creeping down the base of the mountains as fast as the steepness of the ground would allow them. Dost Mahommed was there, with some two hundred and fifty of his devoted followers. Down they came, in despair, to make a last struggle; neither they nor we imagining they had the very faintest prospect of success, -- but wonderful are the chances of war. They advanced at a walk, and halted at a hundred yards from the foot of the hill. Then the Ameer was seen to take his turban off, the most abject form of entreaty, and “ba nom-e-Russool” (in the name of the Prophet) , he implored his followers to fight, “or,” as he added, “ I am a gone man.” His prayer had the desired effect. They advanced to within thirty paces of our party, pulled up, fired their pieces, and then again advanced at a steady trot. Then was seen a dust, then the glittering of sabres, then more dust, and every one thought it was over with Dost Mahommed Khaun and his fortunes for ever. But, to the horror of the spectator, the enemy’s blue standard still flew proudly in the midst of our own squadrons. First were seen loose horses, then troopers without caps and swords, next the main body of our own cavalry running like frightened sheep, their brave officers all killed or wounded. It appeared that when Major Frazer, who commanded the whole, gave the order to charge, and all the officers advancing to the front started at a gallop, not more than five of their men followed them. The first troop fled, the second advanced not a pace, and the left squadron looked quietly on to see their noble leaders sacrificed. In this unaccountable and dastardly affair Frazer and Ponsonby were desperately wounded, and Crispin of the same regiment was killed, with Dr Percival Lord (Political Agent), and Broadfoot. Had the Hindoostanees but galloped on without even drawing their sabres, the enemy, who were much inferior in numbers, and mounted on smaller horses, must have been swept away.
The result of this melancholy victory was good. Dost Mahommed rode straight from the battle-field, without drawing bridle, and surrendered himself to the Envoy; and thus, after a doubtful struggle, we asserted our superiority in the country.
Dr Lord, as was afterwards satisfactorily proved, did not die in the battle, but fell a victim to a plot of the deepest treachery. We visited his own and Broadfoot’s graves on our homeward ride from Purwaundurrah, pulling up at Chareekar to pass the evening with poor Codrington and Salisbury, who both fell most deeply lamented, in Coistaun, at the commencement of the frightful massacre of our troops at Caubul.
[Keywords]
regrawan/ Kohestan/ Karezi/ Bagram/ Panjsher/ Jolga/ Mir Masjidi/ Khwaje Padshah/ Nijraw/ yaghi/ Charikar/ Parwandarra/ Istalif/ Dust Muhammad Khan/ Janbaz/ Hindustani/ Kabul
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