Only an Ensign: A Tale of the Retreat from Cabul, Volume 2 (of 3) — John Shaqi
Only an Ensign: A Tale of the Retreat from Cabul, Volume 2 (of 3)Grant, James
General
Only an Ensign: A Tale of the Retreat from Cabul, Volume 2 (of 3)
Grant, James
Afghan Wars -- Fiction
Crowning two lofty ridges in the foreground rose Cabul within its
walls of stone, and towering high above them, rose the Chola or
citadel of the Bala Hissar. The city is picturesque, each house
having, as in Spain, an open court-yard, though the streets of
unburnt-brick are so narrow as to be frequently blocked up by one
laden camel, or to prevent two horsemen riding abreast. Thus the
great chiefs and nobles have always footmen running in front to
prepare or clear the way for them. There all the different races
live apart, and the Persians or fierce Kussilbashes have their own
quarter fortified against all the rest.
The groups that gathered round the band were a sample of all the
various tribes that resided in and about Cabul, for though many
murderous outrages had been perpetrated on our people they were still
anxious, if possible, to conciliate the natives.
Each type of humanity varied from the other in visage and in costume;
the fair-faced and ruddy-looking Englishman; the lean, dark Hindoo
sepoy, seeming intensely uncomfortable in his tight red coat and
stiff shako; the sturdier Afghan; the wild Beloochee, the Dooranee,
the Kussilbash and Arab, all of whom were admitted in limited number
by the quarter-guard; some cruel and sly in expression; some lofty,
proud and refined, with patriarchal beards that floated to their
waists, and a solemnity of bearing that made one think of the days of
Abraham; and many of them armed with ancient weapons made long
anterior to the adoption of our villanous saltpetre; in their dresses
and manners looking like the figures at a fancy-ball, so quiet and so
brilliant in colour and variety, were their flowing Oriental robes.
Numbers of officers and ladies from the different compounds and
villas in the vicinity were present; and the "chimney-pot hat of
civilization," might be seen amid the white turbans of the Mussulmen,
the yellow of the Khyberrees and abhorred Jews, and the scarlet
_loonghee_ of the Kussilbash, for Khan Shireen Khan, chief of that
warlike tribe, appeared mounted on a slow-paced, lank, patient and
submissive-looking camel. Perched high up, he sat on a lofty saddle,
with a tall tasselled lance slung behind him, and in front a small
armoury of knives and pistols stuck in his girdle, which was a
magnificent Cashmere shawl, that many a belle might have envied. Nor
were veiled Afghan ladies wanting, and these surveyed with wonder
their European sisters, as they openly laughed, chatted
and--Bismillah!--shook hands with the Feringhee officers.
Shahzadeh Timour, who commanded the King's forces, was there, mounted
on a beautiful horse, wearing a polished shirt of mail and a plumed
steel cap, looking not unlike a Circassian chief; and Taj Mahommed
Khan, still intent on warning the Europeans of coming evil, rode by
his side.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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