Late at night, however, Macpherson with his brigade arrived on the top of the hill facing Ali-Musjid; and Tytler, with his column, came down into the Khyber valley in rear of the fort. But, though unopposed, their march had not been unnoticed and, late in the evening, the news reached the Afghans that the British were marching down into the valley behind them. A wild panic instantly seized them. Clothes, ammunition, guns, everything that could impede their flight were thrown away; and the garrison of Ali-Musjid, and the Afghans in the hillside entrenchments fled, a herd of frightened fugitives, up the valley. Hasty as was their retreat, they were not in time. Tytler, with his column, debouched into the valley before they had passed the spot where the mountain path descended into it; and large numbers were taken prisoners.
As at the Peiwar-Khotal, the Afghans proved themselves capable of defending a strong position, valiantly; but were converted into a mob of panic-stricken fugitives, by their line of retreat being threatened. A European army, under like circumstances, would have fallen back in good order. Their force was amply sufficient to have swept aside the little column which barred their retreat, and they would have occupied a fresh position farther to the rear, and renewed the conflict. Not so the Afghans. The capture of Ali-Musjid brought with it the entire demoralization of the Afghan army which, a few hours before, had been fully confident in its power to repulse any attack which might be made upon it.
The British continued their advance, passed through the Khyber Pass, and entered the broad valley near whose head stands the town of Jellalabad. Beyond a few shots, fired at them by tribesmen high up on the mountain side, they experienced no opposition, whatever and, a week after the fight in the Khyber, entered Jellalabad and encamped around it.
Further than this it was not intended to go, for the present. Winter was now close at hand. Between Jellalabad and Cabul were a series of most difficult passes. An army advancing up them would have immense difficulty to encounter, and might find itself cut off from India by the snows. In the Jellalabad valley the weather is mild, large stores of provisions were obtainable, and here it was determined to remain, through the winter; and to recommence the campaign, in the spring, with the advantage of the Khyber Pass--one of the keys of Afghanistan--being in our hands.
But a day or two after reaching Jellalabad--having defeated and dispersed one of the two Afghan armies--the news arrived of the capture of the Peiwar-Khotal--the second key of Afghanistan--and the utter rout of the army defending it. Thus, in little more than a week after the commencement of the campaign Sheer-Ali, the Ameer, saw the entire overthrow of the army which he had, for so many years, been occupied in organizing and training. The positions which he had deemed impregnable had both been taken, after a single day's fighting; and his capital lay virtually at the mercy of his conquerors. In one short week, his hopes and plans had been scattered to the winds.
Sheer-Ali was not wholly to be blamed. He had for many years received an annual present of money and arms, from the British government; but upon the other hand, he saw Russia marching with giant steps towards his northern frontier and, contrasting the energy and enterprise of the great northern power, with the inactivity which he may have supposed to prevail among the men who governed England, he became more and more anxious; and asked the English definitely to state whether he could rely upon them for assistance, should he be attacked by the Russians.
He received a reply from the Duke of Argyle--the British minister for India--of a doubtful nature, couched in terms which seem to have aroused his resentment. From this moment, there can be no doubt that the Ameer's course was decided upon. He was between the hammer and the anvil and, as he could obtain no guarantee of assistance from England, he determined to throw himself into the arms of Russia.
Letters were exchanged between him and General Kaufmann--the Russian viceroy in Turkestan--and the latter gave him the warmest promises of support, if he would ally himself with Russia. Although he had, for years, declined to accept a British resident at Cabul, or to allow Englishmen to enter the country; he now, believing in the power and willingness of Russia to help, received the visit of a Russian general and staff, at Cabul.
Unfortunately for the Ameer, the government of England had now changed hands; and the ministry at once sent to Sheer-Ali, to demand that he should receive a British resident. It was late in the year, and the Ameer--acting, no doubt, on the advice of his Russian friends--sought to gain time by evasive answers. The British government--who saw through the ruse--ordered the envoy to advance, with a strong escort. This obliged the Ameer to come to a final decision; and the die was cast by the escort being stopped, by force, on its arrival at Ali-Musjid.
There is no doubt that the Ameer, and his friends, calculated that it was already too late in the season for the English to gather a sufficient force, on the frontier, to force the passes held by the Afghan army before the snows. The promptness of action of the English government, the valor of their troops, and the unusually late setting in of the winter combined to overthrow the Ameer's plans. Had the campaign been delayed till the spring, there can be little doubt that the British, in their advance, would have found themselves opposed--if not by a Russian army--at least by an army led and officered by Russians, with Russian engineers and artillerymen. The promptness of their advance, and the capture of the passes and the dispersion of the Afghan armies, within a week of the opening of the campaign, altogether altered this position.