A day or two afterwards the victorious army were at Kabul: the city was at their mercy, and so far their success had been complete. Though the entry into Kabul had been accomplished there was still much to be done. The murderers of Cavagnari had to be brought to justice, order had to be kept in the city, and all the plans made for the army's going into winter quarters.

While in the city Roberts visited the spot where the members of the Residency had made their brave defence and met their cruel end. He was familiar with such scenes of native treachery and British courage; and doubtless the scene of Cavagnari's last stand must have brought back to the Mutiny hero the days of Delhi, Cawnpore, and Lucknow.

"The walls of the Residency, closely pitted with bullet holes, gave proof of the determined nature of the attack and the length of the resistance. The floors were covered with blood-stains, and amidst the embers of a fire were found a heap of human bones. It may be imagined how British soldiers' hearts burned within them at such a sight, and how difficult it was to suppress feelings of hatred and animosity towards the perpetrators of such a dastardly crime."

In the meantime, although the British army was in Kabul, it was by no means in safety, nor was the war at an end. The 8th December saw the enemy's "last peaceful act." That day a great parade of all the troops was held in order to show the Afghans "our teeth and our mettle." Six days after, the enemy had become so daring that General Roberts got all his troops together within the Sharpur Cantonments. Two days before Christmas the Afghans made their fiercest attack. This was beaten back by the steady courage of our troops, who, surrounded by masses of the enemy, and in the heart of a hostile country, were now fighting for their very existence.

The weather was bitterly cold; there was a very hard frost, and the ground was covered thick with snow. "I think I had good reason to be proud of my force," says Roberts. "Native and European soldiers alike bore the hardships and the exposure with the utmost cheerfulness, and in perfect confidence that when the assault should take place victory should be ours."

On the 5th of May Sir Donald Stewart arrived with his force, having marched from Kandahar and gained a great victory on the way. Sir Donald, as senior officer, took command of the united forces. The army was divided into three divisions, Roberts retaining the command of two divisions.

With such a large army in front of Kabul it was thought that some of the troops might be sent back. Accordingly a column was formed, the command of which was given to Roberts, and the idea was that the little army should withdraw by the Kurman route.

Roberts himself had started off in order to view the Khyber Pass, when in his own words: "Suddenly a presentiment, which I have never been able to explain to myself, made me retrace my steps and hurry back towards Kabul—a presentiment of coming trouble."

This feeling, as in the case of Cavagnari, was justified; as, on approaching Kabul, he was met by Sir Donald Stewart with the news of a grave disaster to the British arms. This was the defeat of General Burrows' force at Maiwand.

The general had left Kandahar with about 2500 men, and on reaching Maiwand the little army had been attacked by 25,000 Afghans. The artillery stood to their guns till all their ammunition had been fired away. Our troops fought doggedly, but they were overwhelmed by numbers, and were finally broken. Nearly half the British force was killed, wounded, or missing; the remnant struggled on through the night, and reached Kandahar the next morning. General Burrows, who in the fight had two horses shot under him, was among the last to reach the city.

Kandahar was soon besieged, a vast native army hemming in the British force.

The consequences of this defeat might well be expected to be serious and far-reaching. "The disaster to our arms caused, as was to be expected, considerable excitement all along the border; indeed throughout India the announcement produced a feeling of uneasiness—a mere surface ripple, but enough to make those who remembered the days of the Mutiny anxious for better news from the north."

Roberts was quick to grasp the situation. He saw that a force ought, without delay, to be sent from Kabul to the relief of Kandahar. After consulting with General Stewart, he sent a telegram to the Adjutant-General in India, in which he told his views plainly and to the point.

"I strongly recommend that a force be sent from this to Kandahar," he began. "You need have no fears about my division. It can take care of itself, and will reach Kandahar under the month,"  he continued.

On the 3rd of August the reply came; the authorities cordially agreed, and an assent was given.

Roberts was given a free hand in selecting his troops, and he quickly chose an army of close on 10,000 men, with 18 guns. All sorts of fighting men were represented, and many nationalities—Highlanders, British Lancers, British Artillery, with Sikhs, Punjabis, Gurkhas, Native Cavalry, and Native Artillery.

On the 9th of August, at 6 a.m., the force bade farewell to Kabul, and started on its famous march. From that date till its triumphant entry into Kandahar "Sir Frederick Roberts' army was cut off from all communication with India and the outer world." Of this historic march, with its record of heroism, of dangers met, and difficulties overcome, this is not the place to tell.

The picked troops marched splendidly. The general, ever anxious for the comfort and safety of his men, had arranged the whole scheme with absolute fearlessness and prudent forethought.

To quote from the words of an officer who was with the column: "While it must be allowed that the whole force, men and officers, had done their duty nobly, and had a march which has seldom been surpassed, still the key of the movement was the firm determination of the general commanding. Few commanders have been more personally liked by all, from the drummer to the colonel, than was General Roberts; and the national and universal admiration which this march and subsequent victory inspired, has stamped it as one of the greatest achievements of the British army."

All ranks believed and trusted in their leader, and though the work was hard, the way long and weary, one and all would have fallen on the march rather than give in.

On the morning of the 31st the force reached Kandahar, having marched just over 313 miles from Kabul. Next morning the battle was fought. The fighting was of a fierce and often hand-to-hand order. On the British dashed, position after position being carried at the point of the bayonet. "Just one charge more to close the business!" Major White shouted as he led his men at an intrenchment, and in this spirit of reckless gaiety and daring officers and men alike fought. Soon the foe were in confusion, and, with comparatively slight loss on our side, the Afghans were utterly routed, and Kandahar and the besieged force relieved.

Peace was soon afterwards made, all the British demands being fully satisfied, and the victorious general started to return to India, his work nobly done and ended. "I shall never forget the feeling of sadness with which I said good-bye to the men who had done so much for me," says Roberts. "I looked upon them all, Native as well as British, as my valued friends. And well I might, for never had a commander been better served."

With the ringing cheers of the soldiers he had led to victory, and the pathetic strains of "Auld lang syne" in his ears, Roberts bade farewell to the gallant army which had made his name and its own so famous, and started off for Quetta, on his way to England.