On Christmas Eve authentic intelligence was brought to me that, on hearing of the defeat of the Afghan army, Sher Ali, with the members of the Russian Mission then at Kabul, had fled to Turkestan, and that his son, Yakub Khan, had been released from prison, and had assumed the reins of Government.
About this time, also, Sir Samuel Browne, who was at Jalalabad, received a letter[3] from the Amir, in which he announced his intention of proceeding to St. Petersburg to lay his case before the Czar and obtain the aid of Russia.
Sher Ali’s disappearance and Yakub Khan’s assumption of authority suggested new possibilities to the Viceroy, who at once instructed Major Cavagnari, the political officer with the Khyber column, to communicate, if possible, with Yakub Khan, and explain to him that our quarrel was with Sher Ali alone, that he might rest assured of the friendly disposition of the British Government towards him personally, and that, unless he took the initiative, hostilities would not be resumed.
Before proceeding to Kuram, I invited all the Turis and Jajis who had afforded us assistance to meet me in durbar that they might be suitably rewarded. A goodly number responded to the invitation, and were told, in accordance with the instructions I had received from the Government of India, that they would henceforth be under British protection; that no Amir of Afghanistan should ever again be permitted to tyrannize over them; that while they would be expected to live peaceably, neither their religion nor their customs would be interfered with; that roads would be made and markets established, and that whatever supplies they could provide for the use of the troops would be liberally paid for.
After this I started for Khost, accompanied by Colonel Waterfield, the political officer.
The column I took with me consisted of the squadron of the 10th Hussars, 200 of the 72nd Highlanders, a wing of the 5th Punjab Cavalry, the 21st and 28th Punjab Infantry, and Nos. 1 and 2 Mountain Batteries. The corps were so weak that their total strength only amounted to 2,000 men.
We reached Matun, the name given to some three villages grouped round a small fort in the centre of the valley, on the 6th January, 1879. The Afghan Governor, with whom I had been in communication, met me and arranged to surrender the fort, on condition that his personal safety should be guaranteed, and that he should be allowed to go either to Kabul or India, as he might desire.
About half a mile from the fort I halted the column, and taking a small escort of the 10th Hussars, I rode on with the Governor, who invited me with my staff into his house. While tea was being handed round, the Governor (Akram Khan by name) warned me that we should be attacked, and that he could do nothing to prevent it, having only some 200 local militia and no regular troops. He further said that the inhabitants of the valley were not directly opposed to the British Government, and, if left to themselves, would give no trouble; but he doubted their being able to resist the pressure put upon them by a large number of tribesmen who had collected from the adjacent districts, attracted by the smallness of the force, which they believed ‘had been delivered into their hands.’