Sound of the Baskervilles White Paper Number 1:
The Battle of Maiwand

Stu Shiffman - July 5, 1996

When you're wounded and left on Afghanistan's plains -
And the women come out, to cut up what remains
Then roll to yer rifle, and blow out yer brains
And go to yer God like a soldier!
Rudyard Kipling, "The Young British Soldier".

Having completed my studies there, I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers as Assistant Surgeon. The regiment was stationed in India at the time, and before I could join it, the second Afghan war had broken out. On landing at Bombay, I learned that my corps had advanced through the passes, and was already deep in the enemy's country. I followed, however, with many other officers who were in the same situation as myself, and succeeded in reaching Candahar in safety, where I found my regiment, and at once entered upon my new duties. The campaign brought honours and promotion to many, but for me it had nothing but misfortune and disaster. I was removed from my brigade and attached to the Berkshires, with whom I served at the fatal battle of Maiwand. There I was struck on the shoulder by a Jezail bullet, which shattered the bone and grazed the subclavian artery. I should have fallen into the hands of the murderous Ghazis had it not been for the devotion and courage shown by Murray, my orderly, who threw me across a pack-horse and succeeded in bringing me safely to the British lines.

... from the reminiscences of John H. Watson, M.D.

The full text of The Graphic article (London, August 7, 1880) published in London with early news of the British defeat at Maiwand ran as follows:

THE AFGHAN DISASTER - Later and fuller details of the conflict at Khushk-i-Nakhud have somewhat modified the impression made by the terrible word "annihilation," which was by many persons not unnaturally interpreted almost in its literal sense. We now know that there was a hotly contested fight lasting over several hours, and that, lamentable as the losses were, half the defeated brigade reached Candahar. Still the destruction of life was almost unprecedentedly heavy, judging by the records of modern warfare, for this fight was quite unlike Isandlwhana, where a small body of Europeans, unprovided with the usual South African laager, were literally overwhelmed by a multitudinous horde of savages. At Khushk-i-Nakhud General Burrows, rashly, as the event proved, offered battle, quitting a defensive position for that purpose. The result of the action showed that both in men and guns he was overmatched, but, even if he was correctly informed of the strength of Ayoob Khan's force, he may not have considered himself overmatched. Remembering the records of Indian battles, a General with 2,400 men, a large proportion of whom were Europeans, may have considered himself on part with a purely Asiatic enemy five times as numerous. According to present accounts, which, however, may possibly be modified hereafter, the Bombay Sepoys were unable to withstand the impetuous charge of the Ghazis, and thus threw the 66th into hopeless confusion. The defeat gradually became a rout, but it would seem that our unfortunate fellows did not fall so much beneath the swords of the pursuing foe as from the effect of thirst and fatigue. Some of the missing may, perhaps, have since come in, but it is more likely that those who sank from exhaustion were murdered by the surrounding villagers, and it is well know that the Afghans do not make prisoners. The miseries of that flight to Candahar, when many of the fugitives, at the hottest season of the year, went for four-and-twenty hours without a drop of water, will probably long be remembered. The most satisfactory feature of this disastrous business at present seems to be that Ayoob Khan either could not or would not follow up his success. If he had shown some of the vigor and promptitude of a really great general, he might have seriously imperilled our hold of the country. It is to be hoped that by this time reinforcements have poured in, and that Ayoob has lost his opportunity without hope of recovering it.

The western border of British India was defined during the colonial period by three wars with Afghanistan. These wars were part of The Great Game with Czarist Russia for control of Central Asia. During the Second Afghan War, on July 27th, 1880, the British Indian army suffered one of its worst defeats ever. The Battle of Maiwand in south-western Afghanistan near Kandahar led to the rout of General Burrow's Bombay Sepoys by Ayub Khan. This issue of The Graphic appeared just as the stunning news of the defeat hit London. The name of the battle site was not even known at that time.
Weird Historical Note: "Among the moneyed classes, and the gamblers, champagne was the drink of the day. When West Ridgeway, later Governor of Ceylon, marched under Roberts from Kabul to Kandahar, he was haunted throughout by the thought of iced champagne. So terribly did it pursue him that when Roberts ordered him to ride as fast as he could to the nearest railway station, with an urgent dispatch for the Viceroy, the first thing that occurred to him was that at any Indian railway station iced champagne would be available. He telegraphed ahead to reserve a bottle, he rode breakneck for three days and nights - 'and oh! the disappointment: the ice was melted, the champagne was corked, and the next morning I had a head'." Pax Britannica: The Climax of an Empire, by James Morris ((c)1968)

"Abdur Rahman Khan,
The New Ameer of Afghanistan"
The Graphic, London, August 7, 1880
Abdur Rahman Khan consolidated his position as Amir soon after the Battle of Maiwand; his rival Ayub Khan was quickly defeated after General Robert's infamous non-stop, three-day march of Scottish Highlander, Sikh, Gurkha and Pathan troops from Kabul to Kandahar. The Amir was neither friend nor foe to the British. He ruled Afghanistan stably for many decades, and established the modern boundaries of his country.

What if the best of our wages be
An empty sleeve, a stiff-set knee,
A crutch for the rest of life - who cares,
So long as the One Flag floats and dares?
So long as the One Race dares and grows?
Death - what is death but God's own rose?
Let not the bugles of England play
Over the hills and far away!
- W. E. Henley

In early August of 1880, word was received that a British brigade had been nearly annihilated by Afghans under Ayub Khan at a place called Maiwand in southern Afghanistan and that General Primrose was besieged in Kandahar. Out of a force of 2,476 men at Maiwand, 934 had been killed (310 of these were European) and 175 were wounded or missing.

One of these wounded was a physician, a newly minted officer J. H. Watson then attached to the 66th Foot, Royal Berkshires. Until he and his rescuer rode to the secure British lines, he must also have been counted amount the missing and killed on that awful day. His batman or Other Ranks assistant or orderly (his precise position in the regiment is obscure), Murray, slips from the public record and no more is known of this notable life-saver. But where were these "British lines"? Ghazni? Back to the embattled Kandahar under General Primrose? All the way back to Kabul, from which General (later Lord) Roberts, "Bobs" known also as "Bobs Bahadur", would lead his relief column to Kandahar?

A special "Kabul to Kandahar" medal was struck (later known as the Roberts Star). We don't know whether Dr. Watson received one (unless his litter was schlepped along with Robert's relief force before being sent on to Peshawar) but he certainly was eligible for the medal struck for the Second Afghan War.

The Roberts Star was presented to all who had taken part in the march, and Queen Victoria even gave one to Roberts' horse, Voronel, which also received the Afghan campaign medal with four clasps. Voronel was not the only four-legged participant to be decorated for his part in the Second Afghan War. In June 1881, the 66th Regiment, newly designated the 2nd Battalion of the Royal Berkshire Regiment, marched to the royal residence at Osborne to be given their campaign medals. A small white mongrel dog named Bobbie (perhaps named after Roberts?) accompanied them, and the Queen presented him with an Afghan medal. Bobbie was owned by a sergeant but was the pet of the entire regiment, had served throughout the Afghan War and even had been with the 66th at the disaster of Maiwand where ten officers and 275 men of the regiment were killed and two officers, thirty-one men and Bobbie were wounded (as well as Watson, attached to the 66th from the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers). He was lost on the battlefield during the retreat, but reappeared several days later to rejoin his regiment at Kandahar which was over fifty miles away.

Perhaps he had chased after Murray and Watson on that speeding pack-horse.

Poor Bobbie! Only eighteen months after being presented with his medal a certain gracious lady, Bobbie was run over and killed by a hansom cab in England. The regiment had him stuffed, and you can still find him in the Regimental Museum in Reading - in a glass case, with a red and green ribbon around his neck to hold his Afghan medal.

Presented for your enjoyment by Stu Shiffman (Hugo Oberstein)
Return to Stu & Andi's Roscoe Page!
10/15/96