The garrison behaved valiantly. Inside the burning gate they
piled up a rampart of grain bags, on which they trained a couple of guns
loaded with case. For three hours after the gate fell did the fanatics
hurl assault after assault on the interior barricade. They were terribly
critical hours, but the garrison prevailed, and at midnight, with a loss
of many hundreds, the obstinate assailants sullenly drew off. Nott,
although urgently summoned, was unable to reach Candahar until the 12th.
Candahar was fortunately preserved, but at the end of March the
unpleasant tidings came that Ghuznee, which British valour had carried by
storm three years before, had now reverted into Afghan possession. The
siege had lasted for nearly three and a half months. In mid-December the
besiegers occupied the city in force, introduced by the citizens through
a subterranean way; and the garrison, consisting chiefly of a regiment of
sepoys, withdrew into the citadel. The bitter winter and the scant
rations took the heart out of the natives of the warm and fertile Indian
plains; but nevertheless it was not until March 6th that the garrison,
under pledge of being escorted to Peshawur with colours, arms, and
baggage, marched out. The unfortunates would have done better to have
died a soldierly death, with arms in their hands and the glow of fighting
in their hearts.
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