w a R's BRIGHTER SIDE W3TH CONTRIBUTIONS BY ^^*€..«^^ OTHERS 1 V WAR'S BRIGHTER SIDE Field-Marshal EARL ROBERTS, V. C, K. G., K. P., G. C. B., G. C. S. I., G. C. I. E. COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF. War's Brighter Side The Story of " The Friend " Newspaper Edited by the Correspondents with Lord Roberts's forces, March- April, 1900 By Julian Ralph (One of the Editors) With contributions from A. Conan Doyle, Rudyard Kipling, and others, and a letter from Earl Roberts m \ ?l2^L 'm ^^ p WITH FIFTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS New York D. Appleton and Company 1901 1?3 Copyright, 1901, By D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. A II rights reserved. • • • • • • • • • • • •^ •• • • - • ! • • * WITH HIS KIND PERMISSION THIS HISTORY OF HIS UNIQUE AND HISTORIC EXPERIMENT IN PUBLISHING A NEWSPAPER FOR AN ARMY IN THE FIELD IS DEDICATED TO Field Marshal, EARL ROBERTS, K.G., K.P., V.C. Etc. COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 220494 LETTER FROM EARL ROBERTS TO LORD STANLEY REGARD- ING ^'THE FRIEND" Bloemfontein, April 13/A, 1900. Dear Lord Stanley, — I understand that on Monday next, the i6th inst., The Friend will come under the new management, and it will, I hope, continue to thrive now that it has been established on a sound basis. The Army owe a debt of gratitude to the gentlemen who so kindly came forward, and who have given their services gratuitously in the management of the paper. That their labours are appreciated is evident from the eagerness with which the paper is pur- chased by officers and soldiers alike. On behalf, therefore, of the troops, I would ask you to convey my best thanks to all who have contributed toward making the paper such a success, especially to the following gentlemen, Messrs. Landon, Ralph, Gwynne, and Buxton. Believe me to be Yours very truly. ROBERTS, vii PREFACE Lord Roberts is the first General of whom I have heard who ever recognised and acknowl- edged the Value and Power of the Press by es- tablishing a Newspaper as a source of Entertain- ment and Information for an Army in the Field, and as a Medium for conveying such Arguments and Appeals as he wished to make to the Enemy. This he did, as one might say, the instant he con- quered the first of the Boer Capitals, almost simultaneously with his appointment of a Mili- tary Governor and a Provost Marshal, and the establishment of a Police Force. The story of Lord Roberts's experiment and the Experiences of the Men he selected for his Editors must be especially attractive to all Jour- nalists, and they will find here set forth whatever is of purely professional interest to them. To those details I have added the most Notable Contributions with which each of the twenty- seven Numbers of The Friend was made up, ix War's Brighter Side and here this narrow limitation of the interest in the book is broken wide asunder. These news- paper articles are mainly the Works of Fighting Men, at rest between Battles, and of others who were at the moment going to or coming from Engagements. They hold the Mirror up to the Life of an Army, in Camp, on the March, in Bat- tle, and in a Conquered Capital. In these Letters, Sketches, and Verses the Reader lives with the Soldiers in camp. He sees what they work and play at. He hears of their deeds of Daring, Mishaps and Adventures. He catches their strange Lingo. He observes what they Eat — (and what they do not get to Drink). He notes how they speak of their Far- ing in Battle. In all the Wealth of English Lit- erature I know of no such a Mirror-reflection and a Phonograph-echoing of Soldier Life as is here. Generals, Colonels — in fact, men of every rank and grade contributed their shares; of every rank down to " Tommy Atkins," who, in general, sings his Songs in the background, in verse, like the Chorus in an Ancient Drama. To these features I have added many Per- sonal Recollections, as well as Anecdotes and Stories told by or about the men around me in camp, and in the conquered Capital of the Free State, with Notes and Comments upon a wide X Preface variety of subjects suggested during the editing of the other Matter here collated. In the Proclamations of the wise and great Field-Marshal, and the Notices, Ordinances, and Camp Orders of his Lieutenants set to rule Bloemfontein after its capture by us, are to be found an account of the Methods by which a Triumphant Army establishes its own new rule in a Conquered City and Territory. This pe- culiar and most interesting history runs, like a steel thread, through the book from beginning to end. I do not know where else it is told, or even hinted at, in what has thus far been written of the War. It was because each of the chief elements that make up this book of The Friend is equally fresh and impossible to obtain elsewhere, that I undertook the labour of compiling this work. It was my first intention to reproduce all the Reading Matter which appeared in The Friend during the period in which we managed it (March i6th to April i6, 1900) but this would have formed a ponderous book of 270,000 words — without including the Military Proclamations. Such a work could not be produced for a price at the command of the general reader, and, fur- thermore, the general reader would have found it too tiresome to work his way through the many Technical Articles and others which time xi War's Brighter Side has rendered stale or of little interest. There- fore, not without regret, I felt obliged to select, as my best judgment prompted, the matter of the Most Peculiar character, or of Widest Inter- est for reproduction here. As the former Editors of The Friend have now formed themselves into an Order to which none is eligible except he or she who tells the truth without fear of consequences, the reader may as well prepare himself to meet with that rare quality in some of the pages that follow. The Author. Xll CONTENTS I.— The Birth of " The Friend " . . . i Showing how it was Fathered by a Field Marshal, sponsored by a Duke and three Lords, and given over to four certificated male nurses. II.— Its Infancy 15 A little Thing, puling Great Promises in its Nurses' Arms. III.— Mr. Kipling makes His First Appear- ance 33 A Costly Sheet — Lines by Kipling — The Steynless City — ^A Love Letter — Exciting Experiences. IV.— We Begin to Feel at Home ... 47 A Strange Editorial Adventure — Lord Roberts's New Government under Way — The Sin of Horse Theft. V. — Sentry Stories 73 Obnoxious Natives — The Australian Correspond- ent — More Love Letters. VI. — Ours was no Bed of Roses ... 95 Kipling's regard for " Tommy Poetry " — Our Eng- lish as it was set up by Boer compositors. VII. — RuDYARD Kipling, Associate Editor . 115 A chapter which introduces a Prince, and tells of our Appeal to the whole Army to write for The Friend. xiii War's Brighter Side CHAPTER PAGB VIII. — Lord Roberts's Headquarters . .. 130 Like a beehive for industry when Rudyard Kip- ling went to lunch with the Field- Marshal. IX.— "Oh, How Good it Was!" . . .154 All Ranks join our Corps of Contributors, and the Paper Sparkles. X. — I Visit Miss Bloemfontein . . . 184 And shall here discuss her, Mr. Kipling, Lord Stanley, and our own behaviour. XL— Our Very Mixed Public. . . . 206 A Study of Tommy Atkins, the Inscrutable — Our Dutch Compositors Arraigned. XII.— " Vive la Compagnie" . . . .227 Four Correspondents dine the General, the Gov- ernor, and Rudyard Kipling, and Produce The Friend as well. XIII.— We Leave "The Friend" to See a Fight 249 The Thirteenth Number, produced by Mr. James Barnes of New York. XIV.— My Horse Offered For Sale . . 268 Kipling at last writes something that pleases the Boers — A Predikant's letter. XV. — Contributions from Kipling . . 281 XVI. — Our Loss and the Army's . . . 295 The Departure of Mr. Kipling leaving The Friend vigorous with the Impetus he gave it. XVII. — Lord Stanley, Journalist . . . 307 XVIII. — Our Christening Competition . . 314 I declare the Original War ended and a New One begun — Enteric's ravages. xiv Contents CHAPTER XIX.— Fooled by the Boers .... British Leniency and Credulity abused Past Endurance. PAGB 349 XX.— Dr. a. Conan Doyle Contributes . And this suggests a few remarks about the much- discussed Treatment of our Sick. XXI.— Loot and Lurid Crazes . . .363 A chapter in which we also tell of a modest Prince and a gallant Adventurer. XXII.— In the Shadow of Sanna's Post . 377 We try to Name the New Colony, and describe the Kornespruit Fight. XXIII.— A Complete Newspaper . . .395 Full of matter no longer a tenth as interesting as there and then. XXIV.— False Hearts Around Us . . . 400 Where only the Women were frank — The art of the War Artist. XXV.— The End Approaches . . . .412 We arrange to retire from our posts, but also start a Portrait Gallery. XXVI. — Wanted, a Millionaire . . . 423 A number as sparkling as a string of jewels — Joke Portrait Number Two. XXVII.— A Notable Number . . . .438 Captain Cecil Lowther joins the Wits and Poets again. A Report by Mr. Jenkins, who was " our Staff in himself." XXVIII. — " Our Friend " no Longer . . . 452 We retire from the paper, leaving it in able and patriotic hands. XXIX, — Adieu to " The Friend "... 465 XV LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS FACING PAGB Earl Roberts Frontispiece Lord Stanley at work as Censor 7 The Editors in their Office , . . . . .16 The Capitulation of Bloemfontein .... 71 A Corrected "Proof" by Rudyard Kipling. . . 96 Miss Bloemfontein 185 Menu of a notable Dinner 230 Julian Ralph and his horse '* Rattlesnake " . . 269 The Front Page of "The Friend" of April 4, 1900 . 314 A Page of Conan Doyle's "Copy" .... 350 Julian Ralph 454 xvu WAR'S BRIGHTER SIDE CHAPTER I The Birth of " The Friend " Showing how it was Fathered by a Field Marshal, sponsored by a Duke and three Lords, and given over to four certificated male nurses We reached Bloemfontein with men who had done extraordinary marching, fighting, and feats of exposure and privation. Some of the troops, notably the Guards, had walked more than thirty miles in one of the three days' continuous march- ing. Many had fought at Jacobsdahl, Paarde- berg, and Dreefontein, not to speak of lesser actions at Waterval Drift and Poplar Grove. During at least the last week of this almost unprecedented military performance the army had been reduced to less than half rations. We were very short of food for beasts as well as men. We had lost a large number of transport wag- gons, with their contents and the animals that drew them, and we had put the torch to two I War's Brighter Side great hillocks of food which we could not take with us beyond Paardeberg. All our four-footed helpers were spent, hundreds of horses were ill, hundreds of bodies of others were lying along our wake upon the veldt, with flocks of glutted, yet still gluttonous, aasvogels feeding upon their flesh. Worse, far worse than all else combined, the dreadful microbes of enteric had entered the blood of thousands of the soldiers, who had found no other water to drink than that of the pestilential Modder River which carried along and absorbed the bodies of men and horses as well as the filth of the camps of both the Boers and ourselves. We had done as the Boers had said we never would do — as only one man of their forces (Ville- bois-Mareuil) had foreseen that a great general like Lord Roberts must be certain to do: we had left the railway and swept across the open veldt for one hundred miles, from Jacobsdahl and Kim- berley to Bloemfontein. For warning his cruel and foul-mouthed commander-in-chief, Cronje, that we would do this, Cronje insulted the bril- liant Frenchman grossly, and bade him keep his idiotic notions to himself. But we had done it, and Cronje had lost his army and his liberty for failing to heed the warning. At Bloemfontein we came upon the steam highway once more, 2 The Birth of "The Friend" but to the south of Bloemfontein it was wrecked at many points, while to the northward it was in the enemy's country and control. There was therefore nothing for us but to rest. Yet how heroically we had worked to make rest necessary! How well we had earned the right to enjoy rest if we had been of the temper to desire it! In one month under the great Field Marshal we had gone further and accompHshed more than all the other British armies had done in nearly six months. We had won over the eagles of victory to perch upon our standards. We had freed Ladysmith and Kim- berley, drawn the Boers away from the Cape Colony border, captured the best army and lead- ing general of our foes, and were encamped around Bloemfontein with President Steyn's Residency in use as our headquarters. The manner in which four of the war cor- respondents first learned that we were not to push on to the northward in an effort to seize the Transvaal capital, but were to halt at Bloem- fontein, was most peculiar. It was so peculiar as to have led to the establishment of the first newspaper ever conducted by an army for an army on the field of battle. It was so unique an episode that this volume is pubHshed to com- memorate and explain it; and I trust that no one who reads this will decide that it was not an 3 War's Brighter Side episode worthy of an even more marked, sub- stantial, and valuable memorial than I possess the talent to coustruct. We entered Bloemfontein on March 13th. Two days later I was asked by Mr. F. W. Bux- ton, of the Johannesburg Star, to attend a meet- ing of some other correspondents and Lord Stanley in Lord Stanley's office on that day. I had caught up with the army by a dangerous journey with only two companions across the veldt from Kimberley, where an injury to my leg had laid me up. I had reported myself to Lord Stanley, the censor. I had previously car- ried on some correspondence with him, but our personal acquaintance had not been of more than five minutes' duration. I could not, therefore, know at that time that he was to prove himself the most competent of all the censors appointed to supervise the work of us correspondents. In saying that he was the '' most competent " I mean that he ranked above all the others in every quality which goes to make up fitness for this unceasing and exacting work. He had quick intelligence, great breadth of judgment, unfailing courtesy, unbroken patience, and all the modesty of a truly able man. Hardly can the average reader estimate the degree of satisfaction with which we correspond- ents came quickly to realise the admirable quali- 4 The Birth of "The Friend" ties of this first and only fair and considerate censor that most of us had known in the war. At one place we knew a censor who read the letters which came to officers and privates from their wives in England, and who used to regale his chance acquaintances with comparisons be- tween the sterUng virtues and deep affection of the letters to Tommy, and the colder, more self- ish, and even querulous messages of the wives of officers. At another place we had a censor who obliged us to hand to him our letters to our wives and sweethearts unsealed, and in one case this censor kept for twenty-four hours a letter I had written to my family. Still another censor showered his contempt upon certain correspondents who, in every way which goes to make up refinement, self-respect, and dignity, were many times better men than he. It amused him to take the despatches of a Colonial lad, who was doing his best to enter upon an honourable career, and throw them in his waste basket daily for ten days without in- forming the youth of their fate. It pleased him to insult me by telling me that the only message I could send to England must be a description of a sandstorm; while to Mr. E. F. Knight, a man Lord Methuen said he " was proud to have with his army," this censor said, " There is only 5 War's Brighter Side one thing I will allow you to write — that is, a description of a new Union Jack which has just been run up over the headquarters." With such ill-chosen, mistaken men had we undergone experiences, and now, at last, we met with Lord Stanley, who, having been born with the attributes of a gentleman, never could forget them; who had the most intense likes and dis- likes for those around him, yet never let these hinder or temper his unvarying fairness; who was as firm as iron and yet always gentle; a stout, strong, stalwart man in build, hearty and kindly in manner; a man who took command as easily and exercised it as smoothly as if he had been a general at birth. I speak of him at some length not merely because his case proves that the one well- equipped censor appointed in the armies on the west side of the continent was a civilian, and not only because this one competent censor gave equally complete satisfaction to both the Army and the Press, but because he assumed a con- spicuous and important part in the story I am telling. His ofifice was as nearly literally a hole in a wall as a room in a house could well be. It was in the corner of the Free State Post Office build- ing, facing the great central square of dirt, in the middle of which stood the market, under whose 6 Mr. Ralph, Mr. Scull, of Chicago. Mr. Buxton, of The Friend, are the three men behind the Censor. Mr. Pearse, Morning Post. Mr. Bennett Burleigh, Daily Telegraph. W. B. Wollen, R.I. Mr. Maxwell, of the Standard. Mr. Melton Prior. Mr. Rennet, of '■ Laffan's Bureau. Lord Stanley Censoring Reports of a Battle. Photographed by H. Mackern, of Scribner's Magazine. The Birth of "The Friend" Open shed the mounted men of the City Imperial Volunteers lived among their saddles and bridles, and slept on the tables of the greengrocers, whose place this once had been. On the Post Office side of the square was the Free State Hotel, the best in the town. On the opposite side, an eighth of a mile away, was the Club. Between the two ends ran a double row of such shops as one looks for in a small village, and behind one of these was the office of a newspaper called The Friend of the Free State. Lord Stanley's office was a wretched poke- hole of a room. It boasted a door with glass panels and no window. Its floor was of bare boards. Its walls were partly made of soiled plaster and partly of bare boards. Opposite the door, in the corner, stood a kitchen table which was never used, and in the other dark end of the room was another kitchen table, behind which, on a kitchen chair, the ex-Guardsman and Whip of the Unionist Party sat nearly all day, and some hours of every evening, with one hand full of manuscript and the other holding the little tri- angular stamp with which he printed the sign manual of his approval upon nearly every de- spatch which was written by those correspond- ents who kept within the law governing the cabling of news to their journals. A kerosene lamp, an inkpot and pen, and a litter of papers 7 War's Brighter Side were the other appointments of the room. The censor was clad in khaki Hke all the rest of us, but the collar of his tunic bore on each side the short bit of red cloth which marked him as a staff officer. To this office, at the censor's invitation, came Percival Landon, correspondent of the Times, H. A. Gwynne, of Renter's Agency, F. W. Buxton, of the Johannesburg Star, and myself. " Gentlemen," said Lord Stanley after the door had been closed and locked to keep out the current of " Tommies " with telegrams which flowed in and eddied before the desk all day, *' Lord Roberts wants to have a daily newspaper published for the entertainment and information of the Army while we are here. I may tell you that we are likely to stay here four weeks. You four are asked to undertake the work of bring- ing out the newspaper. Will you do it? " Three of us did not clearly see how we could undertake so laborious and exacting a task and still do justice to our newspapers at home; nev- ertheless, the censor's words had been, " Lord Roberts wants this." " We must do it if Lord Roberts desires it," was the reply of one of us. The rest nodded acquiescence, but said nothing. " I am very glad," the censor replied. Mr. Buxton, who knew South Africa and its 8 The Birth of "The Friend" Press very well, appeared to have devoted some attention to the matter earlier in the day. From him and from the censor we learned that two daily newspapers had been published in Bloem- fontein up to the time that we took possession of the town. One was the Express, the property of the widow of one Borckenhagen — a Boer organ of the most pronounced type, and notori- ous for the virulence of its attacks upon the British, for its lying reports, and its mischievous influence. That paper had been stopped by Lord Roberts, and its machinery, type, and all else belonging to it were for us to do with it as we pleased. The other paper was the little Friend of the Free State, owned, as I understand, by an Eng- lishman named Barlow, who was out of the country and had left the property in the care of his son. This younger Barlow had not con- ducted the paper in such a spirit toward us as one would have looked for from a man of English blood; but, either for good cause, worldly in- terests, or wholly despicable reasons, there was so much disloyalty and so much more of fence straddling throughout South Africa that a very lenient view was taken of this case, and we were asked to find out what sum of money would satisfy Barlow for the loss of income from his paper while we conducted it. He was to be told 9 War's Brighter Side that he could not be permitted to continue his editorship, and that therefore it was necessary to settle on some figure covering any shrinkage that might occur in his customary profits while the newspaper was in our charge. Mr. Buxton was appointed to confer with Barlow, and in a few hours we all met again to hear that the dethroned editor would be satisfied with a guarantee of £200, or £40 a week during the month of our editorship. " We ought not to be at any risk of having to pay this sum," said Mr. Landon. '' If we give our time to the work cannot the Government assume the responsibility for the money? " " No," said the censor, " you cannot be al- lowed to lose anything by your kindness. Two hundred pounds will be the utmost cost, eh? Well, I think that Westminster, Dudley, and I, can raise that between us." We held our breaths for a moment as he said this, for it flashed upon us that the heir of Lord Derby, the owner of the great Dudley estates, and the greatest landlord of London, were to be our backers, that they were high up among the richest men of England, and that one of them was saying he was hopeful that among all three two hundred pounds might not prove an impos- sible sum to raise. "Yes, that's all right," Lord Stanley re- 10 The Birth of "The Friend" peated; " I think that Dudley, Westminster, and I can manage it." The reader will not be prepared to hear that anything funnier than that could grow out of this situation. But it was to be so. Weeks after our singular editorial experience ended I re- ceived, while in Capetown, a letter from an interested Afrikander asking me whether I thought the three men who guaranteed Barlow against a loss of profits from his paper were re- sponsible men, and Barlow would be likely to get his forty pounds! I went away to nurse my injured leg, and the other editors went their ways to arrange for get- ting out a new paper, which all of us agreed should be christened with the now historic name of The Friend. While we are thus separated from them let me draw a pen picture of each. Percival Landon, representing the Times, is a university man, who has been admitted to the bar, and who took up the work of a war corre- spondent from an Englishman's love of adven- ture, danger, and excitement. It can be noth- ing but his English blood that prompted him to this course, for in mind and temperament, tastes and qualifications, he is at once a scholar and a poet rather than a man of violent action. Had the Times so desired he would have charmed the public with letters from the front as human and II War's Brighter Side picturesque in subject and treatment as any that were sent to London. His charms of manner and of mind caused his companionship to be sought by the most distinguished and the most poHshed men in the army, and all were deeply sorry when, at the close of the army's stay in Bloemfontein, illness forced him to return to London, though not until he had served in the war as long as any man at that time on the west side of the continent. Mr. H. A. Gwynne, representing Renter's Agency, is a veteran war correspondent, though a young man otherwise. He is Landon's dia- metrical opposite, being above all else a man of action and a born soldier. As an author and as a mountain climber of distinction he was known before he adopted the profession of journalism and took part in, I think, ten campaigns: The Turko-Greek, the Omdurman campaign, the Egyptian campaign preceding it, and others. It was Gwynne who, with Mr. George W. Steevens, received the surrender of the Volo from the Greek authorities before the Turks entered the town. Mr. Gwynne has superabundant strength, health, and spirits, loves soldiering and adven- ture, and is so shrewd in his judgment of men, and practised in his observations of war, that more than one general made it a practice to con- sult him upon what he knew and saw during the 12 The Birth of " The Friend " South African campaign. How well he can write the pages of The Friend attest. Mr. Buxton is a specialist in the interests which are uppermost in Johannesburg, where, as a member of the staff of the Star, and as a citizen of consequence, he has made himself intimately known to the forceful men of South Africa, and has mastered the problems that He before the British in reconstructing the government and welding the two leading races together. He had accompanied Lord Methuen's unfortunate army from its start to its rescue by Lord Roberts, and during all that time his knowledge of the country and of the Boers might have been turned to good account had he been consulted. It was fitting that the staff of the newspaper should have had upon it a representative colonial of English stock, yet of long and masterful local experience such as Mr. Buxton. For a striking picture of the minor characters who figured as our foremen and compositors in the newspaper office the reader will do well to read Rudyard Kipling's '' A Burgher of the Free State," one of the short stories he wrote after his return from South Africa in the early summer of 1900. It showed us associates of the master story- teller how instantly, broadly, and accurately he is able to imbibe and absorb the colour and spirit, 13 War's Brighter Side and even the most minor accessories of any new and strong situation around him. It will show the reader better than any amount of another man's writing the characters of our helpmeets and neighbours, and the atmosphere in which they moved. 14 CHAPTER II Its Infancy A little Thing, puling Great Promises in its Nnrses* Arms On March i6, 1900, there glimmered (it can- not be said to have flashed) upon the Army and the half-wondering, half-treacherous population of Bloemfontein, the first number of The Friend. It was produced in the office of the former Friend of the Free State — an office that had the appearance of having been arranged out of a dust-heap, and stocked with machinery, type, and furniture that had been originally bought at second-hand and left to itself through fifty years of frequent dust-storms. Everything in it was either the colour of dirt or the tone of type-dust — everything, including the window-panes and the printers. Of the latter we never knew the number, names, or characters. Only one gnomish man ever appeared at large out upon the uncharted floor of the composing- room, and he was elderly and silent — a man 3 15 War's Brighter Side grown mechanical, and now making but a feeble fight against the dirt and type-dust which was slowly covering him in what was apparently to be another such upright tomb as held the last of the wife of Lot. He sometimes came into the edi- torial dust-hole — if we yelled and stamped our loudest and our longest. He came wearily and softly, heard our orders, and vanished in the type-dust as we used to see our army friends at Modder step out of our tents into a dust-devil and disappear on the ocean of veldt and at high noon. The other printers lived in the little side alleys between the rows of type-cases. They were evi- dently drawn there by the feeble, straggling light that still shone faintly through the filth upon the window-panes. I judged that they were older than the foreman, and too feeble, too nearly en- tombed by the dirt, to be able to go out upon the floor. We only got glimpses of them, and never heard one speak. Out in the back yard, behind Barlow's sta- tionery shop, the sun glared fierce and hot upon a strip of desert ground, a blue gum-tree, and a preternatural boy. He lived out there, refusing to be drawn into the dust-heap until the awful sentence of serving as a printer should, at last, be read out to him. We had a fancy that each of the old men inside had begun like that boy, cling- i6 Julian Ralph. Perceval Landon. H. A. Gwynne. Rudyard Kipling. The Editors in their Office. Photographed by H. Mackern, of Scribner's Magazine. Its Infancy ing as long as possible to the region of air and light, that each in his turn had been sucked in at last, and that it was this last boy who went in at lunch time and led the old fellows out of their soUtary, silent cells, and gave each a push in the back to start them toward their homes. How Messrs. Gwynne, Buxton, and Landon managed to get out the first paper, which they forgot to mark with what a great man once said were " the saddest words ever seen in print," that is to say, "Vol. I., No. i.," I never asked them, though I wondered. They did produce it, however, and called it Playing Cards. ) THE FRIEND. ( C"© Tips All Qualities at [• ] Wafers Barlow's. ) 3d. 3d. ( at Barlow Cue Tips and Wafers Barlow'St VOL. IV. NO. 1,027. Its sheet was of the size of two copies of the Spectator laid side by side. Each of its four pages measured twenty inches long by fifteen wide. Far more striking than its title was this sentence, in blackest type: " If you once use Vereeniging coal you will never use any other." All the ad- vertisements, except the very many scattered about for Barlow's stationery business, and for which I hope he was made to pay at the highest rates, were old notices carried on from the days of Boer rule. 17 War's Brighter Side Upon the second page two advertisements were brand new. They were proclamations signed " By order, G. T. Pretyman, Major-Gen- eral, Military Commandant, Bloemfontein." One was in the Taal language, the other was in English, and both announced that a market would be held daily, near the town, for the sale of such local produce as butter, eggs, milk, poultry, and vegetables. The prices to be charged were laid down by this sapient and enter- prising general, who declared eggs to be worth two shillings a dozen, milk fivepence a bottle, turkeys five shillings and sixpence and higher, butter two shillings a pound, &c. The English proclamation was headed *' Notice.'' The Dutch copy bore the title " Kennisgeving," and was signed, " Bij order, G. T. Pretyman, Majoor- Generaal, Krijgs-Kommandant van Bloemfon- tein." On the third, or editorial page, was another military notice entitled " Army Orders," which I reprint in full, as showing how almost instantly Lord Roberts established his own rule in the conquered capital. General Pretyman's market notice was dated the day we took the town, and we knew that on that day a local police force was established, headquarters and quarters for all the branches of the military rule were at once set up, and here on the 15th there had been found 18 Its Infancy time to arrange and prepare for publication a directory of the new arrangements. ARMY ORDERS— SOUTH AFRICA Army Headquarters, Government House, Bloemfontein, March 15, 1900. I. Civil Population to be unmolested. It being desirable and in the interest of both the British Government and the inhabitants of this country that all residents should be assured that so long as they remain peaceably disposed their civil rights and property will be respected, it is strictly forbidden that any private property should be com- pulsorily taken possession of by other than the au- thorised Supply Officers. All articles required by the troops must be ob- tained and paid for in the ordinary way, and no tres- passing or interference with the inhabitants will be permitted. These instructions apply to detached bodies of troops as well as to the Force generally, and it is specially the duty of all officers to put a stop to all attempts to infringe them. By order, J. W. Kelly, A.G. for C. of Staff. 19 At Government House. At Government Buildings. War's Brighter Side 6. Office of Departments. The offices of the various Departments are situ- ated as shown below : — Military Secretary Chief of Stafif G.O.C. Royal Artillery Chief Engineer Director of Transport Director of Supplies Provost Marshal P.M.O. 3, Maitland Street. The office of the Press Censor is established next door to the entrance to the Telegraph Office. All telegrams except official ones must be censored. Office hours from 7 to 8 a.m., 10 a.m. to 12 noon, 3 to 5 p.m. 7. Supply Department. As soon as the Supply Park arrives, a Supply Depot will be established at Mr. Beck's Store, on Baumann's Square. 8. Divisions, Brigades, &c., where quartered. The following units are quartered as shown below : — CAVALRY DIVISION Headquarters — Club, Market Square. 1st Brigade — About 2 miles W. of town. 2nd Brigade — Bloemspruit, about 3 miles east of town. 3rd Brigade — Rustfontein, about i mile N. of town. 20 Its Infancy Mr. James Collins, under State Secretary to the late O.F.S. Government, has been appointed Land- drost of Bloemfontein. The period for handing in arms and ammunition by burghers and residents of this town and district has been extended to March 26th. After a notice that Major Hamilton, the Carabineers, would like to receive two £5 notes, a Mauser pistol, a pair of Zeiss glasses and a grey gelding, all lost by various persons in and near the town, we published our editorial announce- ment that the paper was estabHshed by and for Lord Roberts's army: — EDITORIAL ANNOUNCEMENTS The events of the last few days have rendered it expedient that an official organ should be published in Bloemfontein during the period of Military Gov- ernorship. With that end in view, and also to pro- vide for public requirements, a small committee formed from the corps of war correspondents with Lord Roberts' Field Force has been entrusted with the control and management of the long-established paper hitherto known as The Friend of the Free State. In future this will be issued under the style and title of The Friend, and will be a daily publication, 21 War's Brighter Side containing military intelligence and orders for the general information of the troops now quartered here, and other matter. We are glad to be able to announce the imme- diate publication of contributions from the pens of such well-known writers as Rudyard Kipling, Julian Ralph, Bennet Burleigh, and other distinguished journalists. We congratulate our readers upon the happy chance which has enabled us to offer the public the voluntary services of such a staff of writers as cannot be paralleled elsewhere in South Africa. In conclusion we wish to state briefly the sim- ple policy which will be adhered to in their col- umns. The maintenance of British Supremacy in South Africa and Equal Rights for all white men without respect of race or creed. These two principles in our opinion embody the essentials of sound government, the pros- perity of this country, and the happiness of the people. For the Committee of Management, P. Landon, E. W. Buxton, H. A. GWYNNE. Mr. Buxton explained to me, with unneces- sary but commendable delicacy, that only three of our four signatures were appended to this 22 Its Infancy notice because I was better known as a writer than as an editor, and it was deemed best not to give me the double credit of serving in both capacities. The first editorial in this new and unique journal was entitled, '' Sulk or Duty," and was written by Mr. Buxton. It was an appeal to all Afrikanders not to sulk, but to '' buckle to the work of making their country become what it shall be, a great and glorious home for countless millions yet unborn." The remainder of the page was given over to a report of the letter of Kruger and Steyn to the Marquis of Salisbury, insisting upon the independence of the two Republics, and Lord Salisbury's reply that his government was '' not prepared to assent to the independence of either republic." To us of the army this was great news. It stirred the camp, and was well suited to attract the widest attention to our journalistic enterprise. But Lord Salisbury's an- swer seemed to us the only answer he could make, whereas the comment upon it by a Co- lonial writer in The Friend showed a feeling of relief and of delighted surprise which was born of the bitter disappointments the loyal men of Africa had suffered in the past. " Now, at last, we know the foundation upon which we shall build. The unhappy issue of Lord Wolseley's promise at Pretoria in 1879 is still fresh in our 23 War's Brighter Side minds . . . late, indeed, but still, to the letter, that solemn undertaking shall be fulfilled. At last we see the one obstacle vanish that has for these long years stood between South Africa and her prosperity." Whoever can feel the spirit of that cry of satisfaction needs not to be told how just and necessary was the war we were waging. Few of us in the army could probe the sources of the war to their depths. Comparatively few men in Eng- land thoroughly grasped the situation. It is all revealed in this shout by Mr. Buxton in The Friend. The long-protracted feud between the two races, the injustice of Boer rule, the suffer- ings of the British, the threats of the semi-civil- ised men in power, the past troubles all ending in broken promises or shameful neglect by the Brit- ish Government — these are all apparent in that cry of delight. The war had not produced such satisfaction. There had been war before and nothing but humiliation of the loyal Uitlander had come of it. But a decided, firm declaration that the war could only end in British sover- eignty — that was news that thrilled the heart of every Anglo-Saxon colonial in the republics and the adjacent colonies. Other articles and official notices of the first interest or importance were as follows: — 24 Its Infancy THE HUMOROUS SIDE OF THE CAM- PAIGN War is grim and fearsome and horrid as we know, or rather as we are being continually told, but nobody seems to have noticed that there is a humor- ous side to it, and sometimes the spectre Death wears the cap and bells. Up to the present the cam- paign has not been without its little amusing inci- dents. In the camp they have been quite numerous, and even on the battlefield itself they have not been unfrequent. The story of a private at Paardeberg who lay behind one of those ever-to-be-blessed ant- heaps, and contemplating a shattered tibia, ex- claimed, addressing the injured member, " Well, you ain't done me badly after all. You 'elped to carry me 'ere, and now you've got me a life pen- sion and free baccy from the parson," has the merit of being true. One cannot refrain a smile at the soliloquy of another private who wished to exhibit a bullet-riddled helmet to his friends at home. He was firing from behind a big boulder on which he placed his helmet. The inevitable shower of bullets followed, but as has been so often the case with Boer marksmen, not a single one touched the helmet, but one ** fetched " its owner in the shoulder, whereupon he took the helmet from its exposed position, and, looking at his bleeding shoulder, remarked, " that comes of cursed pride and nothing else." The removal of all badges of rank from officers has been the source of many amusing mistakes. On 25 War's Brighter Side the march from Poplar Grove here, it is related that a certain general officer was returning to camp after a terribly hard dusty dry day. A subaltern of the A.S.C. sat under his canvas awning, and thus ad- dressed this distinguished general, " Now look here, if this happens again I'm d d if I don't report you. For the last two hours you have been away, and heaven knows what the mules are up to." It is true it was dusk, but that was hardly a sufficient excuse for mistaking General for a conductor. " I say, old cocky," was the remark made once by a captain to a full colonel, " hadn't you better see about getting some grub ? " Apologies followed, of course. Then who can resist laughing at the tale of woe unfolded by one of our most distinguished corre- spondents who dined one night with the Guards and slept in the tent of his host? The next morning he walked into the mess hut and sat down to breakfast. But imagine the trembling horror which seized hold of him when he looked round at his hosts of the night before and failed to recog- nise a single one of them. Was it a failure of mem- ory, or was it incipient paralysis of the brain? — it could not, of course, have been the whisky. And so he sat in a bath of hot and cold perspiration, think- ing that the blow which had so often attacked and destroyed fine intellects had reached his. But sud- den as a straw is whisked past the drowning man by the fast current, so there passed through his brain one ray of hope. He remembered the name 26 Its Infancy of his host, and turning quickly to his neighbour, fearing lest his brain might again fail him and he should forget the name, asked, " Where is ? " The answer was a relief and yet a horror, " is having breakfast in the mess tent of his battalion," — and, pointing through the door, " there it is over there." It was with slow, sobered steps that our correspondent left the table and made his way to the hut of his host. He had made what, after all, was not an uncommon error, and had mistaken the S Guards' hut for that of the C Guards. Facts and Otherwise Mr. Arthur Barlow has resigned his position as editor of The Friend. Original contributions and correspondence are invited from all ranks of the Field Force. As in all probability the territory hitherto known as the O.F.S. will in the near future be designated by a different title, the Committee of Management oflfer a prize of £s for the best suggestion for re- naming this country. CANADIANS ON MAJUBA DAY On the afternoon of Monday, the 26th February, the 6-in. howitzers bombarded Gen. Cronje's laager 27 War's Brighter Side at Paardeberg with Lyddite shells. The effect of the salvos viewed from a distance of 3,000 yards was terrific. What the occupants of the laager felt cannot be told, for the reason that no truthful ac- count is obtainable. The explosions in appear- ance were not unlike the great dynamite explosion in Johannesburg in 1896, only the great cloud of smoke was greenish-yellow instead of grey. An air of expectancy pervaded the British camp, every one knowing that the morrow was Majuba Day, and it was thought that something decisive would be done. Early next morning, about 3 o'clock, the silence of the night was broken by the softened spit-puff sound of the Mauser rifle, and immediately after the firing became a fierce fusilade, the sharp crack of the Lee- Metford joining in. The crackling concert lasted about an hour, rising and falling with sudden acute crises like a passage of Wagner's music. Bullets were falling around the camp at distances up to 3,000 yards, from the Boer laager, and it was evi- dent that the firing was wild. At first streak of dawn a ride to the advanced trenches of the Canadians on the river bank enabled one to learn the wherefore of the night's disturb- ance. The ambulance waggons were already pro- ceeding quickly up the south bank of the river. A pontoon ferry was plying from bank to bank bring- ing across wounded Canadians, nearly all suffering from bullet wounds, but some few had by accident been struck by the bayonet. The Canadians occupied trenches on both banks 28 Its Infancy of the river, and were within about 500 yards of the enemy. On their left — that is some distance north of the river — were the Gordons, and further to the south the Shropshires. The orders were that the four companies of Canadians in the north bank should advance under cover of the darkness and try to gain the enemy's trenches, or at least get nearer. They advanced in two lines of two companies each, the front line having bayonets fixed and the second carrying rifles slung with picks and shovels in their hands to dig an advanced trench, should it be thought advisable to go right to the trenches. When the Canadians left the Gordons were to occupy the left of their trenches, and the Shrop- shires placed in advance in a position to command the Boers, should they rise in their trenches to fire on the Canadians. They were told to hold their fire until the Mausers first spoke. The Canadians and Gordons were not to fire at all. The operation was one requiring coolness, nerve, and pluck, and the Canadians did it magnificently. They advanced as quietly as possible about 400 yards, and then halted, the order being conveyed by pressure of the hand from one to another. Every one thought that the second line would now dig the trench, but another pressure ordered a further advance. Five paces had been covered when Mauser bullets hissed past, and the men, as ordered, fell fiat, just in time to avoid the terrific fire that was immediately poured from the Boer trenches. A minute or two elapsed, and the order came to retire. Not a shot was fired 29 War's Brighter Side by the Canadians, and they quietly crept back, gain- ing their trenches with comparatively little loss. Meanwhile the Shropshire men, who had carefully taken the range and direction before dark, opened fire on the Boers, and at the end of an hour put them to silence. A bugle sounded *' cease fire," and all was still again. That morning (Majuba Day) Cronje surrendered. PROCLAMATION TO THE BURGHERS OF THE ORANGE FREE STATE The British troops under my command having entered the Orange Free State, I feel it my duty to make known to all Burghers the cause of our coming, as well as to do all in my power to put an end to the devastation caused by this war, so that should they continue the war the inhabitants of the Orange Free State may not do so ignorantly, but with full knowledge of their responsibility before God for the lives lost in the campaign. Before the war began the British Government, which had always desired and cultivated peace and friendship with the people of the Orange Free State, gave a solemn assurance to President Steyn that if the Orange Free State remained neutral its territory would not be invaded, and its independence would be at all times fully respected by Her Majesty's Government. In spite of that' declaration the Government of the Orange Free State was guilty of a wanton and unjustifiable invasion of British territory. 30 Its Infancy The British Government believes that this act of aggression was not committed with the general approval and free will of a people with whom it has lived in complete amity for so many years. It be- lieves that the responsibility rests wholly with the Government of the Orange Free State, acting, not in the interests of the country, but under mis- chievous influences from without. The British Government, therefore, wishes the people of the Orange Free State to understand that it bears them no ill-will, and, so far as is compatible with the suc- cessful conduct of the war and the re-establishment of peace in South Africa, it is anxious to preserve them from the evils brought upon them by the wrongful action of their Government. I therefore warn all Burghers to desist from any further hostility towards Her Majesty's Government and the troops under my command, and I undertake that any of them who may so desist and who are found staying in their homes and quietly pursuing their ordinary occupations will not be made to suffer in their persons 6r property on account of their having taken up arms in obedience to the order of their Government. Those, however, who oppose the forces under my command, or furnish the enemy with supplies or information, will be dealt with ac- cording to the customs of war. Requisitions for food, forage, fuel, or shelter made on the authority of the officers in command of Her Majesty's troops, must be at once complied with; but everything will be paid for on the spot, 4 31 War's Brighter Side prices being regulated by the local market rates. If the inhabitants of any district refuse to comply with the demands made upon them the supplies will be taken by force, a full receipt being given. Should any inhabitant of the country consider that he or any member of his household has been unjustly treated by any officer, soldier, or civilian attached to the British Army he should submit his complaint, either personally or in writing, to my Headquarters or to the Headquarters of the nearest General Officer. Should the complaint on enquiry be substantiated, redress will be given. Orders have been issued by me prohibiting sol- diers from entering private houses or molesting the civil population on any pretext whatever, and every precaution has been taken against injury to property on the part of any person belonging to, or connected with, the Army. Roberts, Field Marshal, Commanding-in-Chief, South Africa. 32 CHAPTER III Mr. Kipling makes His First Appearance A Costly Sheet — Lines by Kipling — The Steynless City — A Love Letter — Exciting Experiences Cup Tips and ) THE FRIEND. ( Playing Cards. Wafers \ \ All Qualities at at Barlow's. ) 3d. 3d. ( Barlow's. {Edited by the War Correspondents with Lord Roberts' Forces^ The above was hereafter to be the wording of the full title of the new paper. It was again of the small size, necessitated by the infirm and petty possibilities of the dust-heap in which it was produced. In this second number appeared a verse of a poem by Rudyard Kipling, who, unknown to us and unsuspected by himself, was soon to be so closely connected with our enterprise. As soon as we agreed to take control of the new paper, Mr. Landon had wired the news to Mr. Kip- ling, then in Capetown, with a request for a con- tribution for the first number. The fact that the poetic reply reached Bloemfontein twenty-four hours later was a matter of delight and surprise to all of us, for the chained lightning of the wired highway of correspondence loses its chief charac- 33 War's Brighter Side teristic of speed where the military make first use of it in time of war. I should not like even to imagine the disgust with which some of the lower order of censors, at terminal and junctional points, viewed this bit of poetry as it crawled along and they were called upon to approve it, perhaps, as " unseditious matter not calculated to give information to the enemy." But then I do not Hke to think of that breed of censors under any circumstances. It wrinkles my temper. Mr. Landon's journalistic enterprise not only turned the eyes of all the Kipling collectors of the world upon our newspaper, but because our printers left the date line "March i6" unal- tered on an inside page of this number of the 17th, that issue became a curio among our read- ers. On the next day copies of the first hundred papers, which were issued before the mistake was noticed, fetched five shillings. Within a month their price was twenty-five shillings. But that is only a twentieth part of what an odd and not spe- cially distinguished number of The Friend sold for at a bazaar in London last summer (1900). Mr. Landon wrote a notable and brilliant editorial on ''The Collapse of the Rebellion"; General Smith-Dorrien replied to the remarks about the Canadians at Paardeberg in the previ- ous day's issue; Lord Roberts's congratulation 34 Mr. Kipling's First Appearance to the Army was published in this number; and there also appeared my '' love letter to Miss Bloemfontein." As this love-correspondence attracted great interest then and was peculiar in its commence- ment, continuation, and end, I will tell, briefly, what the facts are concerning it. I was in- valided and confined to my bedroom in the Free State Hotel, and being advertised as a contribu- tor, bethought me that it would be a graceful and pleasant thing to act as spokesman for the army in praising the pretty town, and acknowledging the gratitude we felt to the people for their friendly behaviour to us conquerors. I did not know at that time that the town was a pestilential, bacillus-soaked headquarters for disease, or that far too many of those who smiled upon us hated us bitterly, and were even then engaged in encouraging the Boers, con- veying information to them, and sneaking out at night to fight with the enemy or to snipe our outposts. In a word, though I had studied the Boer more closely and longer than any other London correspondent, I had not measured the breadth and depth of his contempt for truth, honour, and fair play. Therefore I wrote the letter to Miss Bloemfontein which, with the other notable contributions to that day's paper, is herewith republished. 35 War's Brighter Side On this day the advertisements for what were then called '* lost " horses already numbered three, and, already, we published a communica- tion headed '' Loot News " in which was stated the fact that the horse-stealing had become so bold that a horse had actually been taken from in front of the Club. '' Please note the following," the reporter wrote, *' Section i, clause i, of the newly promul- gated constitution of the city without a Steyn — A man may kill a man and live, but a man who steals a horse may not live." Whether there will occur an opportunity in this book to explain how the neighbourhood of the Boers affected the moral atmosphere and demoralised our earlier views of property rights, especially in horse-own- ership, I cannot yet say, but whenever the tale is told it will be discovered to be extraordinary. THE FRIEND. {Edited by the War Correspondents with Lord Roberts' Forces^ BLOEMFONTEIN, SATURDAY, MARCH I7, I9OO. LINES BY RUDYARD KIPLING March 17, 1900 St. Patrick's Day Oh! Terence dear, and did you hear The news that's going round? The shamrock's Erin's badge by law, Where'er her sons be found. 36 Mr. Kipling's First Appearance From Bobsfontein to Ballyhock 'Tis ordered by the Queen, We've won our right in open fight The wearing of the Green. THE STEYNLESS CITY Loot News Absent-minded beggars please note following intimations displayed at the Club House, Market Square : — Taken from a boy in front of the Club on 15th inst., about 7 p.m., a bay gelding, about thirteen hands, star on forehead, white patch on top lip, tick marks on hind quarters, long tail trimmed square, branded R G off forehoof. A 15 near fore- hoof. Will the gentleman who took a brown pony by mistake from a boy at the door of this Club-house on March 15 kindly return it to manager? Also please note following : — Section i, clause i, of newly-promulgated con- stitution of the City without a Steyn — ^A man may kill a man and live, but a man that steals a horse may not live. The Late Presidency The official Headquarters of Field-Marshal Lord Roberts and his stafif are at the Residency. 37 War's Brighter Side TO MISS BLOEMFONTEIN A LOVE LETTER Come, little Miss Bloemfontein, sit down beside me and let me hold your dimpled hand and look into those eyes which have caught the wonderful blue of these heavens, and the tints of your gardens and your bowery streets. I think our whole army likes you, you belle of the Boer aristocracy. You certainly change your lovers easily and lightly, but soldiers are reported not to mind a little coquetry when they are far from home. You have tripped out to meet us so enticingly, you have so led us into your bower with your warm little hand, and you have spoken so kindly to us, that we dislike to think you were quite the same to your earlier beaux in their homespun suits, their flapping hats, and their lavish indulgence in whiskers and beards, which, as you must know, are the cheapest of luxuries — pro- digalities in which misers indulge to make a show and save a barber's bill. You might have been hateful to us and we could not have blamed you, for we came too nearly, as certain other soldiers came to the Sabine sisterhood, with blood in our eyes and weapons in hand, fancy- ing that you would cling to your old love, and never dreaming that he would run away and leave you unprotected in this placid and pretty little boudoir that you have set up here. You won't forget that little episode, will you, Miss Bloemfontein? And you did take note, didn't you, my dear, that when 38 Mr. Kipling's First Appearance we found you deserted, all forlorn, we changed from lion to lamb, from blustering warrior to soft-spoken wooer? We spoke no harsh word to your people and did their goods no violence. Even now, we stand aside in our own place, crowding none of your servitors, but smiling back the smiles you bathe us in, and breathing our admiration softly — for you are a pretty miss and gentle — and we are not so stupid as to fail to see that you are no Boadicea, but a lover of peace and concord, if ever one has lived on earth since the muses took to the clouds. Sweetness of loving sighs its soft song of delight in every breeze that rustles the leaves of your tree- garlands. Domesticity asserts its command, by your order, in the aspect of every cottage in your park-like nest. Homely comfort radiates from the hearths and the faces of all who live under your delightful rule. I never anywhere saw a prettier or a more as- tonishing scene than I witnessed in your market- square on the second night of the stay, which we hope you will invite us to prolong to eternity. We sent a few greasy and stained melodists with pipes and drums to play in the square, partly to show you that we had dethroned Mars and substituted Pan in the best niche in our hearts, and partly to set our own pleasure tripping to gay tunes. And lo! out you came with your maidens and their lovers, your old men and matrons, and the children within your gates. And we all forgot that we had quarrelled with your cast-off favourite, that each of us had 39 War's Brighter Side shed the other's blood, and that we had come to you with an anger that we supposed you matched within your own fair bosom. Your people and ours touched elbows and laughed and sang together. For one I was amazed. Of all the sharp contrasts of strife I know of none so bold and strong as that scene when it was compared with the scenes of only a few days back at Paardeberg and Driefontein. It was your magic, your witchery, your tact that brought it about, you South African beauty. With- out these helps we never could have enjoyed that evening as we did, and that evening was the bridge that spanned the gulf between the angry past and the happy future in our lives, little miss. Draw closer, Miss Bloemfontein. Let our arms touch, and the thrill of ardent friendship vivify our new relation. You do like us British, don't you, dear? You don't have to be British yourself, you know. You can stay on being Dutch and piously Presbyterian and all the rest. We will respect what- ever you admire, and we will promise to make you richer, freer, happier and even more beautiful — with the ripened charms of a long-assured content, if only you will let your chief predikant publish the banns next Sunday — or sooner, if you will. Julian Ralph. A RECENT EXPERIENCE A recent experience of Mr. Bennet Burleigh and. his colleague, Mr. Percy Bullen, of the Daily 40 Mr. Kipling's First Appearance Telegraph, affords a fitting illustration of the dangers to which those attached to Field Forces are ex- posed. These two gentlemen left Poplar Grove last Saturday with the object of reaching General Kelly- Kenny's column, which had preceded them by sev- eral hours travelling along the high road running almost parallel with the Modder River. Near Abrahamskraal they caught sight of the central di- vision fighting the Boers along the kopjes lying to the right. Mr. Burleigh, who was travelling in a Cape cart drawn by four horses, stepped down to survey matters, and while looking through his glasses along the high road he saw a party of Boers digging trenches. Some of them wore khaki, others were dressed in a style of the country, which be- trayed their identity to the experienced eye. It was decided to return by the same road, further progress being obviously very hazardous, as the enemy was within a distance of 500 yards. The two carts occu- pied by the correspondents had barely turned round when a shower of bullets was sent in their direction, several striking Mr. Burleigh's vehicle, and others falling immediately in front of Mr. Bullen. A des- perate race followed over a distance of several miles, in the course of which a convoy of several mule waggons was met. The officer in charge ordered the convoy to return immediately, and his instruc- tions were quickly followed. Meantime a messen- ger was sent across to the central division to ask for assistance, as the Boers, though a considerable dis- tance behind, were still shooting. By dint of hard 41 War's Brighter Side work and much lashing of horses and mules, every one got safely away, but one of Mr. Bullen's team fell a victim to the enemy's fire. Fortunately the shot came from across the river, and the remaining animal, though sorely tried by the boulders and sluits of a bad road over which the whole of the con- voy and escort had likewise proceeded at a break- neck pace, was able to pull the cart out upon the veldt and so elude further damage. By this time some of Rimington's scouts appeared, and one of the number kindly lent the correspondent his horse, by means of which he was able to rejoin his col- league at Poplar Grove, where the entire party passed the night. It was an exciting chase ex- tending over several miles, and the safety of the correspondents and convoy was largely due to the zeal of the native drivers, who worked as if life as well as liberty depended on the result. The huge column of dust thrown up by the carts and horses was sufficient to baffle even the most expert rifle- men, and the Boers who pursued were certainly not good shots even at close quarters. In order to assist his flight Mr. Bullen jettisoned a large quan- tity of horse fodder, whereas his experienced col- league, Mr. Burleigh, arrived in camp with all his goods intact, including a live sheep. It transpired subsequently that the messenger despatched for as- sistance, as well as two others who followed him, were captured. The correspondents state that the skill displayed by their drivers in avoiding the huge boulders which lined the high road, and especially 42 Mr. Kipling's First Appearance in descending and ascending the banks of a very- precipitous sluit with a twelve feet dip, was a most creditable performance, reminding one of the won- derful exercises of our artillery drivers at the Is- lington Military Tournament. CORRESPONDENCE CANADIANS ON MAJUBA DAY By MAJOR-GENERAL SMITH-DORRIEN Bloemfontein, March 17, 1900. To the Editor of " The Friend." Dear Sir, — I have read your account of " The Canadians on Majuba Day " in your issue of yes- terday. It is correct up to a certain point, but the last part of it is quite erroneous. In justice to this gallant corps, and to the Com- pany of Royal Engineers who were with them, I trust you will publish this letter — ^which recounts what actually happened from the moment the Royal Canadians advanced from the trench, 550 yards from the enemy, until they established themselves and made a new trench within 93 yards of the Boer trenches. At 2.15 a.m. (on the 27th February), the Royal Canadians with 240 men in the front rank, the latter with rifles slung and entrenching tools, and about 30 officers and men. Royal Engineers under Lieut.- Colonel Kincaid forming the right of the rear rank 43 War's Brighter Side of the Canadians, moved steadily from the trench, shoulder to shoulder in the dark night, feeling their way through the bushes, and keeping touch by the right. At 2.50 a.m. they were met by a terrific fire from the enemy's trench, now only 60 yards in front of them. The line was forced to fall back, but only a very small distance, the right of it under Captain Stairs and Macdonell, Royal Canadians, some twenty yards, where they lay down in the open and returned a steady fire — mostly volleys — for the next one and a half hours ; the left had had to fall back rather further. Under cover of these two Captains, Lieutenant- Colonel Kincaid and his R.E. officer and men, and the Canadian working party in that part of the line constructed trenches in spite of the galling fire, and by daylight had completed a most admirable work which gave grand cover against fire in all threat- ened directions, and was so well traversed with banks and sand-bags that not a single casualty oc- curred after it was occupied. As day dawned a ruined house was noticed on the opposite bank of the river, from which this work could be enfiladed, and a party from the re- serve was sent up the left bank to occupy it. To cover the early morning attack as soon as the fire opened at 2.50 a.m., the Shropshires, in order to hold the enemy in the main laager, engaged them with long-range volleys, whilst the Gordons re- 44 Mr. Kipling's First Appearance mained partly in the open and partly in the most ad- vanced flank trench, which latter they lengthened and enlarged, ready to move forward in support. Shortly after daylight a white flag was flying in the Boer trench, which was 93 yards from our newly-constructed trench, and soon the Boers came trooping into our line. They stated that they had no orders from General Cronje to surrender, but that they heard he intended to give in on the 28th February. The result, however, of this gallant operation was that General Cronje altered his date one day earlier. Your account says that our losses were com- paratively small ; so they were for the results gained, and considering the heavy fire which con- tinued for nearly two hours at 80 yards' range. They only amounted to 45 casualties in the Brigade — thus, 12 N.C.O.'s and men Royal Canadians killed, 30 N.C.O.'s and men Royal Canadians wounded, and 3 officers wounded, Major Pelletier and Lieut. Armstrong, Royal Canadians, and I.ieut. Atchison, King's Shropshire Light Infantry — a fold in the ground exactly covered the spot where the party was working, hence the absence of cas- ualties in the Royal Engineers, and the slight losses in the working party of Royal Canadians. Yours faithfully, H. L. Smith-Dorrien, Major-General, Commanding 19th Brigade. (We are glad to be able to supplement our con- tributor's account of the gallant action of the 27th 45 War's Brighter Side by General Smith-Dorrien's categorical letter which supplies details which could hardly be obtained ac- curately at second-hand. — Eds. Friend.) A COLONIAL HERO While scouting at Makouw's Drift, two troopers of Rimington's Guides were fired on from a small kopje at close range. One had his horse shot, and the other, young Ewan Christian, son of Mr. H. B. Christian, of Port Elizabeth, rode back to bring him away. As he was bending down to help his com- rade up behind he was himself fatally shot, the bullet passing through his back and out through his chest. He rolled off his horse and told his comrade to mount and ride away. Shortly afterwards Major Rimington and more men came up and heard the last words of the dying hero : " Tell my old gov- ernor that I died game." On retiring the party were under a hot fire, several horses, including that of Major Rimington, being shot. Mr. Christian was buried with military honours. 46 CHAPTER IV We Begin to Feel at Home A Strange Editorial Adventure — Lord Roberts's New Government under Way — The Sin of Horse Theft Once, far along the Grand Canal in China, where the people were all afraid or hostile at the first sight of me, a beautiful girl of sixteen or seventeen ran along the bank of the canal after my boat, beckoning to me and to Mr. Weldon, the artist, who was with me, to disembark and visit her home. She was out walking with her mother. There was no doubt when one consid- ered how far from any big town she was, and the fact that she was largefooted and willing to be seen of men, that she was a poor peasant girl, a farmer's daughter, either curious to see us strange men, or anxious to prove herself a Chris- tian convert and to repay the hospitality and kindness she had received at the hands of Chris- tian missionaries. . 47 War's Brighter Side That was what I thought, at any rate, and in that view I told of the happening in Harper's Magazine. At once a cry arose, in the companies of men I met and even in some newspapers as well, against my introducing so risque a subject in my account of my adventures. Until then I had no idea how prone to evil-thinking is the world, how anxious to twist impurity out of in- nocence even though it required violence to do it. Once again, and here, I am going to tell of an incident equally sweet to memory and the reflection of wholesome minds; equally delicate in the perfume of innocence which it exhales. After the second issue of The Friend, Sunday gave us a day of rest. We had known and seen no women for months. They were to us as our homes were, as London was — mere memories, vague and shadowy, beside the substantial reali- ties of fighting, marching, thirsting, and going hungry in the company of men — of men by the tens of thousands, but of no women. There was in Bloemfontein a very blond young woman of sixteen who served behind the counter of a shop in the main street — a slight, sunny-haired, blue-eyed miss, sparkling with fun and excited by the novelty of waiting upon Brit- ish soldiers and living in the middle of what had changed from a dead-and-alive Boer village to a great armed British camp. The soldiers had 48 We Begin to Feel at Home noticed her as well. Generals and colonels com- pared notes of what gossip she and they had ex- changed, and sent their friends to the shop to see her. The appearance of a few unattractive women among the soldiers in the village streets had made a mild sensation, but the discovery of a fair-haired, rosy-cheeked girl of English blood was the talk of the camp. Among the first men in Bloemfontein and the first to make the acquaintance of this maiden was Mr. Gwynne, of The Friend. Foreseeing Sunday, and scenting a chance to revive the best memories of civilised life, he proposed to gather two army friends if she would invite two of her feminine friends for a drive and a luncheon on the veldt on Sunday. He invited James Barnes, a talented American correspondent, and myself. In two Cape carts we called for the young ladies at their homes. They proved to be the very blond young woman, a fourteen-year-old friend, and a little girl of ten or eleven years of age. I confess that I never would have asked mere children upon such an outing, but it is equally true that I could not have experienced either the same or as great and peculiar pleasure with others of older growth. They were frank and free, and merry as grigs. They came as near to having us killed or captured by the Boers as I wanted to be, and from them we learned most interesting 49 War's Brighter Side and valuable information about the enemy and about the town as it was before we captured it. We proposed to visit the home of one of the girls, a farm which the girls said was '' quite close.'* It proved to be miles beyond the British outposts in a country that seemed to us to be uncomfortably peopled with Boers and which proved afterwards to have been alive with them. Of the danger to us which lay in such a situa- tion the girls took no account. They had been born there. They had seen nothing of war, and did not understand it. The Boers were their lifelong neighbours. And, in a word, they were going to visit friends and to have fun, and noth- ing else entered their minds. When we were miles away and among some very suggestive little kopjes we discovered that our friends had lost their way and that we were adrift on the veldt. Boers dashed up to the crests of the hills, saw us and disappeared. Boers were on every hand. Why we were not gobbled up and sent to Pretoria none of us can explain.. Eventually, with only one mishap — the over- turning of one of the carts — which seemed for a moment more terrible than capture by the enemy — we reached the farmhouse, and aided by several tiny boys and the farmer and his wife, spent a happy hour and a half. We made our way back to Bloemfontein in the evening, and 50 We Begin to Feel at Home within a day or two Colonels Crabbe and Cod- rington and Captain Trotter were wounded and the Honourable Edward Lygon was killed, at the Glen — a rifle shot from where we had picnicked! The adventures and hairbreadth escapes in war are apt to take only three or four well-or- dered forms. This adventure was in no way like those of the stereotyped kinds. Monday came, and, with it, the third number of The Friend. It was now of the enlarged size, which it retained to the end — a sheet 19 inches wide by 32 inches in length. We con- tinued to do the editorial work in the old dust- bin, as at first, but we had discovered that the Express works were more modern and capable of turning out a paper of the size we preferred. The Express works were two blocks away from our little den, in a side street behind the main thoroughfare of the town. They belonged to Frau Borckenhagen, but had been seized by order of Lord Roberts and sealed up. The print- ing office and engine and press rooms were after- ward made over to us, the bindery was used by the military, and only the office of the departed editor, whence had proceeded the most mischiev- ous reflections of Krugerism and the policy of the insidious Afrikander Bond, remained sealed. Frau Borckenhagen sent her agents to the mili- tary to ask leave to recover some of her hus- 51 War's Brighter Side band's private papers. By this means she showed us that, Hke all other Boers, she put the very lowest valuation upon our intelligence. But in this case she only succeeded in turning the at- tention of the military to her husband's papers without getting the shading of a degree nearer to the possession of what must have been — and I think I have heard, really proved — of the ut- most interest to us. However, we were able by using the com- mandeered property of the Boer frau, to produce a newspaper of pretentious size and considerable importance. The Friend now began to bristle with proc- lamations, and their number appeared to be doubled because each one was repeated in the Taal language under the heading " Proclamatie." In one '' I, Frederick Sleigh Baron Roberts of Kandahar, K.P., G.C.B., G.C.S.I., G.C.I.E., V.C., Field Marshal and Commanding-in-Chief the British forces in South Africa, appoint George Anosi Falck Administrator of the Civil Posts and Telegraphs in such portions of the Orange Free State as have been or may hereafter be occupied by British troops.'' Another proclamation related to bills of ex- change and promissory notes; and a third, by General Pretyman, appointed James Allison Col- lins as " Landdrost of Bloemfontein to administer 52 We Begin to Feel at Home the ordinary civil and criminal laws." In this proclamation the landdrost's court was ordered to resume its work on Monday, March 19th. A district surgeon, clerk, receiver, and second clerk to the landdrost's court were also appointed. General Pretyman extended his original mar- ket proclamation as that it established the ruHng prices of cattle, meat, breadstuffs, and groceries. In the proclamation as translated into the Taal, Lord Roberts was declared to be '' Ik (I), Fred- erick Sleigh Baron Roberts van Kandahar, K.P., G.C.B., G.C.S.L, G.C.I.E., V.C., Veld-maar- schalk, Opperbevelhebber van de Britsche Krijgsmachten in Zuid-Afrika." In a notice to the Army we said that our chief aim was to make the paper welcome to and supported by all ranks, and we invited all in the Army to write for us. It is true that when, in the previous day's issue, we published a poetic contribution by a kind friend, who was the first to come to our assistance, we did not precisely encourage others to follow his example. On the contrary, we accompanied the verses with the remark to the writer, "Your verses are execrable. See for yourself in print." But this was merely one of the many interesting peculiarities of the paper. We offered a prize of £5 for the best sug- gestion of a new name for the colony, as has been already noted; and we published the fact that 53 War's Brighter Side Miss Elliott, daughter of the General Manager of the Cape Government Railways, arrived with her father by special train on the previous night, and was the first lady to cross the Free State border and to visit Bloemfontein. The editorial of the day was by Mr. Buxton, and was entitled " Uitlander or Rebel, Subject or Burgher." The most notable article was called '' The Confession of a Horse-stealer," and was written by one of the editors. In the same number an- other member of the editorial quartette wrote a strong little article calling attention to the preva- lence and brazenness of horse thieves, and de- ploring the facts in earnest and indignant lan- guage. I was now at work at a desk in the edi- torial room, and was forced to act as judge be- tween the outraged virtue of my colleague who detested horse-stealing and the pained surprise of my other colleague who (shall I say pretended or) confessed in writing that he was an expert at the crime. " Surely you agree with me that this thing has got to stop? " said the one editor. " Surely you will not allow such canting non- sense to go into the paper? " said the other, " especially where the entire army has become adept at the practice of looting Boer horses or exchanging worn-out steeds for the fresher ones of friends." 54 We Begin to Feel at Home Being a born diplomat I agreed with both my colleagues, praised both their articles, and voted that both should ornament the columns of The Friend. I was in a position to behave with this im- partiality. My character and reputation at home forced me to the side of the indignant moralist, and yet, on the other hand, certain episodes in my recent experience inclined me to view the confessions of the horse-stealer with leniency. More than once I had been forced to choose be- tween walking for days in the enemy's country or utilising horses that had been abandoned by the Boers. If I were again placed in such a posi- tion I would surrender myself a prisoner to the Boers rather than touch even a Uttle thing like a horse that did not belong to me. I have had time to reflect, and I see how weak I was; but at that time I was in the Boer country where steal- ing is called '' commandeering," and seems a trifling thing, rather creditable if practised suc- cessfully and with a high hand. In justification of my course in commending the high moral view of my other colleague, I could say with pride that the horses I had taken were both dead, and my character was thus lifted above reproach. The happy combination of these points in common with both my colleagues, enabled me to publish both their articles and bring them 55 War's Brighter Side back to the friendliest terms. So successful was I that we allowed our feelings to carry us beyond the bounds of reason — that is to say that we agreed to go to the Club and take a drink. It was a thing which no intelligent man would lightly agree to do. The only liquid refresh- ments then obtainable at the Club were enteric germs in water, gin, vermouth, and port wine. It required an occasion of the first importance to induce any of us to go to the Club, which was always as crowded with ofBcers as an egg is with meat. All day, and until late in the evening, the principal apartment barely afforded standing room. The porch was equally well filled, and horses in dozens were tethered before the house. It was the social exchange and rendezvous of the officers of something like 80,000 men, and I can hardly believe that anywhere in the world was there a club-house so constantly crowded. THE FRIEND. {Edited by the War Correspondents with Lord Roberts^ Fores.) BLOEMFONTEIN, MONDAY, MARCH I9, I900. PROCLAMATION Whejieas it is deemed expedient and necessary for the welfare of the Orange Free State that Postal and Telegraph Services shall be resumed in the 56 We Begin to Feel at Home aforesaid Republic, as far as circumstances permit, Now THEREFORE I, Frederick Sleigh Baron Roberts of Khandahar, K.R, G.C.B., G.C.S.I., G.C.I.E., V.C, Field Marshal and Commanding-in-Chief of the British Forces in South Africa, do hereby nominate and appoint David George Anosi Falck Adminis- trator of the Civil Posts and Telegraphs in such portions of the Orange Free State as have been, or may hereafter be occupied by British troops. And I do hereby order that the Postal and Telegraph serv- ices shall be resumed in the portions of the aforesaid Republic already referred to, from the nineteenth day of March, 1900, under the existing Laws and Conventions of the Orange Free State, subject to such alterations as may from time to time be notified. Given under my hand at Bloemfontein this Sev- enteenth Day of March, 1900. god save the queen. Roberts, Field-Marshal, Commanding-in-Chief British Forces, South Africa. ARMY ORDERS— SOUTH AFRICA Army Headquarters, Government House, Bloemfontein, March 15, 1900. I. Civil Population to be unmolested. It being desirable and in the interest of both the British Government and the inhabitants of this 57 War's Brighter Side country that all residents should be assured that, so long as they remain peaceably disposed, their civil rights and property will be respected, it is strictly forbidden that any private property should be compulsorily taken possession of by other than the authorised Supply Officers. All articles required by the troops must be obtained and paid for in the ordinary way, and no trespassing or interference with the inhabitants will be permitted. These instructions apply to detached bodies of troops as well as to the Force generally, and it is especially the duty of all officers to put a stop to all attempts to infringe them. By order, J. W. Kelly, A.-G. for C. of Staf!. ARMY ORDERS— SOUTH AFRICA Bloemfontein, March 14, 1900. It afifords the Field Marshal Commanding-in- Chief the greatest pleasure in congratulating the Army in South Africa on the various events that have occurred during the past few weeks, and he would specially offer his sincere thanks to that portion of the Army which, under his immediate command, has taken part in the operations resulting yesterday in the capture of Bloemfontein. On the 1 2th February this force crossed the 58 We Begin to Feel at Home boundary which divided the Orange Free State from British territory. Three days later Kimberley was relieved. On the 15th day the bulk of the Boer Army in this State, under one of their most trusted generals, were made prisoners. On the 17th day the news of the relief of Ladysmith was received, and on the 13th March, 29 days from the commence- ment of the operations, the capital of the Orange Free State was occupied. This is a record of which any army may well be proud — a record which could not have been achieved except by earnest, well-disciplined men, determined to do their duty and to surmount whatever difficulties or dangers might be encoun- tered. Exposed to extreme heat by day, bivouacking under heavy rain, marching long distances (not infrequently with reduced rations), the endurance, cheerfulness, and gallantry displayed by all ranks are beyond praise, and Lord Roberts feels sure that neither Her Majesty the Queen nor the British nation will be unmindful of the eflFort made by this force to uphold the honour of their country. The Field Marshal desires especially to refer to the fortitude and heroic spirit with which the wounded have borne their suflferings. Owing to the great extent of country over which modern battles have to be fought, it is not always possible to afford immediate aid to those who are struck down ; -many hours have, indeed, at times, elapsed before the wounded could be attended to, but not a word 59 War's Brighter Side of murmur or complaint has been uttered ; the anxiety of all, when succour came, was that their comrades should be cared for first. In assuring every officer and man how much he appreciates their efforts in the past. Lord Roberts is confident that, in the future, they will continue to show the same resolution and soldierly qualities, and to lay down their lives, if need be (as so many brave men have already done), in order to ensure that the war in South Africa may be brought to a satisfactory conclusion. By order, (Sd.) W. F. Kelly, Major-General. Deputy-Adjutant-General, for Chief of Staflf. ARMY ORDERS— SOUTH AFRICA Army Headquarters, Government House, Bloemfontein, March i6, 1900. I. Telegrams. The Field Marshal Commanding-in-Chief has great pleasure in publishing the following telegrams which have been received : — {a) From Her Majesty the Queen : " Accept my warmest congratulations for yourself and those under you on your great success. Trust all wounded doing well." — V. R. {b) From His Excellency the High Commis- sioner : " In a spirit of deep thankfulness I congratu- late you and your gallant Army on the rapidity and 60 We Begin to Feel at Home completeness of success which has attended the recent operations — crowned by the occupation of the enemy's capital." — Milner. (c) From the Rear Admiral Commanding-in- Chief, Simonstown : " My personal and Navy's heartiest congratulations on your success." — Ad- miral. (d) From Chairman of the London County Council : " On behalf of Metropolis, whence many of your brave soldiers have been drawn, I con- gratulate your Lordship's having gloriously reached a point which brings you one step nearer towards final success and peace." — Dickinson, Chairman of the London County Council. (e) From the Lord Provost of Glasgow : " The Corporation of Glasgow in Council assembled ofifer you and Her Majesty's troops under your command their hearty congratulations on the success of your operations, culminating in your occupation in the Capital of the Free State, and their earnest hope for a speedy termination of the War." — Lord Provost. 2. Distinction. Referring to Army Order (of March ii, 1900), it is notified for information that Her Majesty's orders that all Irishmen, whether serving in Irish Regi- ments or not, shall be allowed to wear the Sham- rock on St. Patrick's Day. By order, W. Kelly, Major-General, Deputy-Adjutant-General. 61 War's Brighter Side Notice The first hundred copies of our last issue — Saturday, March 17, were, by accident, wrongly dated under the title on the front page. The Editors are willing to pay Five Shillings each for a few clean copies of this portion of the issue. THE CONFESSIONS OF A HORSE- STEALER (N.B. — This article is privileged. The Provost Mar- shal cannot, therefore, take proceedings against the author.) When somewhere about the beginning of De- cember I arrived at Modder River, I think I may say I was as honest as the generality of mankind. I do not remember any incident in my early child- hood and youth which could in any way have been cited as a proof that I had predatory instincts. At home I never stole, at schools I never stole, at Col- leges I never stole, and during several years of wandering about the face of the globe I never stole. But since I accompanied Lord Roberts' force from Enslin to Bloemfontein I have stolen freely, and I as freely admit it. Why? Ah, the answer to that question involves deep ethical considerations, and cannot be answered right oflf. Let me tell my tale, and I fancy that I shall receive the sympathy of most 62 We Begin to Feel at Home members of the force, and even the Provost Marshal will no longer pine to hang me. When I left Enslin I was the proud possessor of three fine saddle-horses and two decrepit-looking but sturdy cart-horses. Now I have to hire a man to repeat daily to me the number of my riding- horses, and I drive about Bloemfontein with a spanking team. I am aware that this confession will make the Provost Marshal's hair stand straight on his head ; but let him have a little patience. Let him think what a glorious thing it is to find the one horse-thief in the army. I calculate that about 5,000 horses have illicitly changed hands during the advance from Modder River, and yet I have never found a man who has not most indignantly denied the merest, slenderest imputation of being concerned in a horse " transaction." Therefore — the army is honest, and there is only one horse-thief in it. The honour of the force is saved, and I am the only culprit. This is centralisation with a vengeance, and no longer need the Provost Marshal send his myrmidons galloping far and wide in search of horse-thieves. When next he hears of the loss of a horse, let him come to me — the only thief. I will let him know my address when Martial Law is replaced by the ordinary procedure of justice. But let me recount, to what, I hope, will be a sympathetic pubHc, how I fell from honesty into the blackest depths of dishonesty. At Jakobsdal, Messieurs les Boers shot my finest horse. I was grieved naturally, and hurt, too, that a poor non- 6 63 War's Brighter Side combatant should have been treated so cavalierly. But '* a la guerre comme a la guerre," I whispered to myself, and hoped for better luck next time. I followed the force from Jacobsdal to Klipkraal and Paardeberg, and at the last-named camp I awoke one morning to find my sturdy black pony had been taken quietly from under my very nose. I raved and stamped and swore at the loss. My sym- pathetic black boy tried to console me. " If master like," he said " I go catch another horse." But so high and pure was my morality at that time that I almost thrashed him on the spot for daring to make such a suggestion. I walked away disconso- late, and sought a friend whose ribboned breast showed that he had seen service in every quarter of the globe. His answer to my request was short and simple. " Go and see whether he is picketed with Horse " (wild rhinoceri will not drag from me the name of that gallant regiment of M.I.). I went, and there conspicuously displayed in the front rank of the tethered horses was my black pony. I did not hesitate, but, blessing the members of Horse for so kindly caring for my poor wandering pony, I began to untie the ream of the halter. But the watchful eye of one of the men was open, and I was startled to hear a noise at my side say, " Well, upon my soul, this beats cock-fighting. You come to the wrong shop' if you think you can steal a horse from this regiment," and he roughly took the ream out of my hand. I protested. " The horse is mine," I said, " Td 64 We Begin to Feel at Home know him anywhere." " Get on," was the answer, *' he belongs to my captain. Why, look at the brand." And, sure enough, on my poor pony's quarters were three big letters which represented, I suppose, his initials. But I was in no way cast down. To go and explain to the officer that a little mistake had oc- curred was, after all, quite an easy matter, and I approached the gentleman who was sitting under a mimosa bush having breakfast. I explained the matter to him, and asked permission to lead my property home. But the captain roared with laughter. " Lead my horse home ? " he shouted in another burst of laughter. " I like that. Why, do you know that the dam of that horse belonged to my Uncle Jim? He was the first man in that part of the country. Why," and again he laughed, " I remember when that black pony of mine was foaled. It was the 7th, no — the loth of October. I re- member quite well, for three weeks after we had a big garden party and all the ladies fell in love with the little beggar because he ate bread and butter from their hands and was the greediest beggar you ever saw after chocolate creams. Why, damme, if I didn't take that pony home again, I believe my old governor would cut me ofif with a shilling." I stood aghast. What a fool, what a sanguinary fool I was to go and make such a mistake. My apologies were ample, humble and profuse. But as I passed the horse lines again I could not help thinking how singularly like my lost pony was the 65 War's Brighter ' Side animal which, as a foal, so amused the ladies at the garden party. And then I did the foolishest thing I ever did in all my life. I bought a new horse. Twenty-four hours afterwards it was claimed by four different officers, and I narrowly escaped hanging at the hands of the Provost Marshal, who at once ordered me to return the animal to its rightful owner. I gave it up to the four claimants, and let them decide among themselves the question of ownership. And now I had but one pony left — and I guarded it as the apple of my eye. But again the Fates were against me, and it went ofif — I do not for a mo- ment suggest that it was taken ofi. Again I tried 's Horse and all the Regular and Irregular Corps in the force, and was indignantly rebuked for daring to look for a stray horse in their lines. And so I was reduced to walking to and fro at Paar- deberg Camp. But one fine afternoon, returning across the huge endless plain, I was nearly ridden down by a subaltern, and as I glanced at the reck- less rider I saw that he was riding my pony. I shouted and yelled to him to stop, which he did. " You are riding my pony," said I. " I'm not," was the laconic answer. " But Fm sure of it." " So am I." " Well, you're wrong this time. That pony is mine. I've had him for three months and I know him as well as I know my own boots." But there was never a blush on the face of the 66 We Begin to Feel at Home subaltern. The pony he rode was, he admitted, of a very common type as regards colour and height. And he discussed at great length the difficulty of recognising horses. He told us that one of the greatest horse-dealers in London failed to recognise a horse that he had himself ridden a whole year. And then he drowned me in dates. The pony he was riding was bought for the remount of Decem- ber 13th, kept at Stellenbosch till January 4th, ar- rived at De Aar on January 6th, was used there by a staff officer who did not like him and sent him up to Orange River on February ist. On February 5th he became the property of the subaltern, who appeared to have tethered the beast at night to his waist, so positive was he that " he had never lost sight of the pony since." What could I say? I couldn't call him a liar, for he was a tall, well-made subaltern, and he might have knocked me down, so I let him ride my pony away, and I trudged home to my camp beside the river. Early next morning I collected all the servants and I addressed them as follows : " I have not got a single riding-horse left, and I want some ; go and get some." It was a laconic speech, but wonderfully effect- ive. By five o'clock that afternoon three grand beasts were standing under the shelter of the river bank close to my camp, undergoing the different processes of hogging, tail-cutting, dyeing and other forms of transformation used by horse-stealers. In 67 War's Brighter Side ten days I could have mounted a whole troop of cavalry. I will confess that I was a bit frightened, when, at five o'clock one morning, they brought me two magnificent chargers, for I recognised them as the property of the Commander-in-Chief. But al- though I delayed His Excellency's departure to Kimberley for an hour, I succeeded in sending them back to his lines unperceived. I now possess a splendid stud of saddle-horses. I find it so difficult to feed them all, however, that it is my intention to ofifer them for sale next Wednesday. The conditions of the sale are usual ones, but it is to be distinctly understood that if any person dares to claim one of the animals as his own he will be turned out of the enclosure with ignominy. TO THE SOLDIERS' POET BY B. CHARLES TUCKER So you've come, Mynheer Kiplin', so you've come, Wot a chap you are to foller up the drum, S'pose yer's gwine to make some verse. Well, there's lots wot does it worse, You'd 'ave made a better Laurrytte than some. We 'ave read your latest rimin' in the " Friend," But it's finished up too soon toward the end. But the paper's raither small. Sure it's 'ardly none at all. If 'twere larger now 'twould be the bigger friend. 68 We Begin to Feel at Home Now I arsks yer, Mister Kiplin', ain't yer proud Of the " absent-minded beggars," how they've ploughed Through 'ard ground to " Bobsfontein,'* Dorp of late departed Steyn, Ain't yer proud of this great ragged Kharki crowd ? Glad to see yer, Mister Kiplin' and the " boys." Old Bloemfontein never knew such times — and noise. There's paradin', drillin' — and Every night we gets the band, And there's nothin' now our 'appiness alloys. A SERIOUS MATTER BY PERCIVAL LANDON Horse-stealing is becoming a grave scandal. It constitutes the one blemish upon the otherwise excellent military regime that has been firmly but unobtrusively imposed. From their grazing grounds, from the rail in front of the Club, from the actual hands of Cape boys leading them to or from their lines, horses have been stolen with as little compunction as though they had been found graz- ing on the veldt. In some cases marks have been obliterated and manes and tails cropped by the thieves in the en- deavour to conceal the identity of the animal, and it is our duty to ask that an example shall be made 69 War's Brighter Side of any person found in the possession of a horse not his own, or from which such marks or brands have been recently obHterated, or upon which others have been recently imposed. It must be apparent to any man of sense that a horse which is offered to him by any person, white or coloured, for a nominal sum, is a horse which that boy or person has no right whatever to possess or attempt to sell, and any man purchasing under these circumstances must be held to be an accom- plice in the theft. It is earnestly to be hoped that in felling neces- sary timber for the use of the troops all particularly fine or ornamental trees will be spared. This dis- trict is sufficiently well wooded to supply otherwise all requirements, and depends largely upon its tim- ber for its attractiveness. Mr. Kruger was being sped from the late Presi- dency when he recently visited the front near Gallaiskop and Osfontein, and President Steyn's parting remark was " Mind the British don't catch you, or you'll get a better place in St. Helena than I." It is hardly necessary now to remind the late President Steyn that many a true word is spoken in jest. It is not a little oflfensive to the ordinary British sense of the fitness of things that a native should be parading the Market Square in the red tunic of the 70 We Begin to Feel at Home Soldiers of the Queen. Yet this was to be seen yesterday afternoon when the pipes were skirling their martial strains, to the delight of all and sundry. The name of the regiment — Shropshire — was plain- ly in evidence on the shoulder strap. Lord Roberts's entry into Bloemfontein narrow- ly missed marking another of those historical, dra- matic episodes such as Cronje's Day afforded. The British withdrawal from the Orange Sovereignty Territory actually took place on March ii, 1846, the proclamation being dated February 23rd of the same year. The Queen's soldiers re-entered this town on March 13th, only missing what would have been a wonderful coincidence by less than forty- eight hours. PROCLAMATION TO THE BURGHERS OF THE ORANGE FREE STATE In continuation of the Proclamation which I issued when the British troops under my command entered the Orange Free State, in which I warned all burghers to desist from any further hostility, and undertook that those of them who might so desist, and were staying in their homes and quietly pur- suing their ordinary occupations, would not be made to suffer in their persons or property on account of their having taken up arms in obedience* to the order of their Government, I now make known to all burghers that I have been authorised 71 War's Brighter Side by the Government of Her Most Gracious Majesty the Queen to offer the following terms to those of them who have been engaged in the present war : — All burghers who have not taken a prominent part in the policy which has led to the war between Her Majesty and the Orange Free State, or com- manded any forces of the Republic, or comman- deered or used violence to any British subjects, and who are willing to lay down their arms at once, and to bind themselves by an oath to abstain from fur- ther participation in the war, will be given passes to allow them to return to their homes, and will not be made prisoners of war, nor will their property be taken from them. Roberts, Field Marshal, Commanding-in-Chief Her Majesty's Forces in South Africa. Government House, Bloemfontein, 15th March, 1900. 72 CHAPTER V Sentry Stories Obnoxious Natives — The Australian Correspond- ent — More Love Letters " The Friend " of March 20th contained five advertisements for stolen horses, one of which described the favourite horse of one of the editors; picturesque justice, some will say, for our light and trifling attitude toward the growing evil of horse-lifting. The editorial of the day, " Greater Britain," was one that I wrote, and the note of it was this: " It has been said that each of the preceding centuries during a long period of European history has ended in a great war. This one which closed the nineteenth century is not, and will not become, great, as wars are measured. But it will be recorded as phenomenally important in having given birth to Greater Britain." We had been offering five shillings each for copies of the '' curio " numbers of March i6th. We now raised the ofifer to ten shillings a copy. 73 War's Brighter Side A paragraph in the paper stated that a native (negro) poHce force had been estabhshed in town, with badges bearing the letters '' B.N.P.'* " These police," we said, " have nothing what- ever to do with white people." A few words upon the subject of the natives will not be amiss. It will be remembered that even as the British troops were entering Bloem- fontein the negroes were engaged in looting a semi-public Boer building. Lord Roberts felt obliged to stop the triumphal advance and order his staff to drive the rufifians away. Some noble lords carried out the order. After we had estab- lished ourselves in the town the negroes were included with the white people in an order re- quiring them to have passes when they entered or left the town, and in order to be out of doors after nightfall. They deeply resented this, after making themselves as obnoxious as they were ridiculous, by their complaints. They said that they had always been friendly to the English, and had hated the Boers for the way they had mal- treated the blacks, but that it seemed the English were little better than the Boers. The truth is that from Capetown to Bloem- fontein they had traded upon a hatred of their Dutch masters, and, whether this was genuine or assumed, they had endeavoured to turn it to their account in every way. Everywhere that I 74 Sentry Stories found them they were too much impressed by the importance which they assumed, and which we too often encouraged. We paid them many times what was paid to '' Tommy Atkins," and employed them in preference to the poor whites. In return they were often lazy, often impudent, sometimes treacherous. I personally know that they were welcomed when they ran from the Boer lines to ours, and I also know that they sometimes ran back to the Boers with what they had learned. The Afrikanders in our ranks and in our employ often knocked them down for impudence, and the English were horri- fied; but I fancy that the Afrikander knew what he was about in his dealings with these people. Mr. Gwynne, in this day's issue, wrote a series of parodies of the despatches of the correspond- ents of all the leading London and local news- papers. It was the purest fun. It caricatured and exaggerated the methods of each of us so cleverly as to make the series altogether laugh- able and yet so as to suggest something recog- nisable in each man's style. Mr. F. Wilkinson, of the Sydney Daily Tele- graph, wrote about the Australians an article that is here reprinted. A correspondent of whose name I am not certain continued from the previ- ous day an account of the expedition to the Brit- 75 War's Brighter Side ish forces southward of us. The article was so interesting and full of local and military colour that I wish I could give the author the credit he deserves. The chief event of the day was the receipt of an angry answer to my love letter to Miss Bloem- fontein. Even as we read the copy we supposed that some wag in the army had tried to perpe- trate a joke upon us, but Mr. Buxton came in and, finding us reading the letter, said that he had received it from a leading man of Bloemfon- tein, whose talented daughter had written it. She was an earnest adherent of the Boer cause, and expressed her sincere sentiments in this let- ter, in which she waved aside my protestations of our friendship with something painfully like scorn. Her name was given to us in confidence, and we published her letter with my reply, all agreeing that as she was certain to write another answer, we would give her the last word, and then close the episode. We were able on this day to announce the establishment of a regular daily train service to all points south. The country below had been cleared of Boers, but the bridge at Norval's Pont was still a wreck, and the trains ran over a tem- porary structure. Sir Henry Rawlinson arrived in Bloemfontein and took up his quarters at the Residency with Lord Roberts, who on this day Sentry Stories announced that he would review the Naval Bri- gade on the following morning. We published these three informing para- graphs : — Note: the price of whiskey is lis. a bottle, on a rising market. A French Canadian member of the R.C.R. was doing sentry-go one night at Enslin (Graspan). The countersign for the night was " Halifax." Pres- ently there came a strolling soldier whom our gallant Canadian promptly challenged. "Who go dare?" " Friend." " Advance, fren, and pace on — and say * Haver- sack ' — all is vale." There were many such sentry stories in cir- culation in the army. Another one was to the effect that a Yorkshireman Having to halt, and demand the countersign of a man he knew very well, acquitted himself of his task in these words: " Halt! who goes there. Say ' Majuba,* and toddle along — isn't it all blooming non- sense? " Finally, there was this one other paragraph especially full of the local colour of our sur- roundings — A captured Free Stater tried to impress a sense of his importance upon his captor by declaring that 77 War's Brighter Side he was a Field Cornet. "I don't care if you're a field big drum. You're my prisoner, and you'd better be very civil and come on." THE AUSTRALIAN CORRESPONDENT BY F. WILKINSON For one very obvious reason war corresponding has not had very much of a vogue in past years with Australian journalists ; in fact, the fighting business altogether has been very much neglected. As a group of colonies or a nation — which we hope to be almost immediately — we are not old enough to invite anyone else to put up his hands, and we are too far away to take more than a languid interest in other peoples' scraps. We did send a contingent and a few corespondents to the London Show, in '86 I think it was, but we only got there in time to return and make ourselves look rather ridiculous. Since then the " professional correspondent " might have starved and pined comfortably to death for all the work he would be likely to get. He couldn't have kept up the lecturing dodge with such long intervals between scraps. We didn't even think it worth while to send to the Philippine show, al- though it occurred almost at our very door. You see, in some of our Australian legislatures we groan under the inflictions of what are known as " labour parties," and labour parties all the world over have a rooted abhorrence of anything which 78 Sentry Stories tends to the maintenance of law and order. Labour parties, moreover, are generally made up of men who have before their accession to Parliament led some big anti-capitalistic agitation, and they know what the sensation is to find themselves confronted with rifles, and even bayonets. Consequently they dislike the military element with a mortal dislike. They make a dead set at raw military estimates every year, and laugh to scorn the military spirit. From all of which may be inferred that war corre- sponding with us has not hitherto been one of the most lucrative of professions. Rich squatters don't choose it as a career for their sons, and poor people have still the Banks and the Church and Parliament to fall back upon. Those of us, therefore, who for our sins have been sent out of this show, come as mere " rooineks," or " new chums," to use the Aus- tralian equivalent. Strange to say, the only one amongst us who was also in the Soudan received a mortal wound the other day near Rensburg. There is this to be said, however, in extenua- tion of our greenness to the business, that our early training is of the sort which ought to make for efficiency, the Australian pressman, like his cousin over here, is a child of the bush. His " beat '* covers some thousands of square, solid, British miles. One day he is out in the wild West among wilder shearers, beside whom the average Tommy is a mere circumstance. There is trouble in station sheds, and wild, uncivilised war between unionists and blacklegs. Blue metal in chunks buzzes past 7 79 War's Brighter Side one's ears as thick as Mauser bullets at Magersfon- tein ; railway carriages are quickly reduced to ruins, huts and grass fired for miles round ; mobs of unionists carry havoc on the luckless blackleg and let slip the dogs of war — always blue metal. This is the stuff on which the Australian pressman is fed up. Next day he may be sent up to the flooded north: a river has burst its banks and submerged some twenty miles of settled country ; occupants of single story houses find themselves high and dry on their roof-tops, others have sought shelter in trees ; their household goods float gaily down- stream alongside dead cattle and horses. Rescue parties in flood boats pull frantically from house to house carrying provisions and clothing for shivering women and children. These floods occur quite frequently, and your pressman . soon learns to live for weeks almost up to his waist in water. He manages to boil his " billy '' in the bottom of his boat without springing a leak. He will make excellent " damper " with arrowroot and Epsom salts if he can't get flour and baking powder. He will ride anything which will go on four legs, and after he has been lost on the trackless bush a time or two, he won't always travel in a circle. He has a standing engagement in an annual encampment where S,ooo or 6,000 troops are con- centrated for nine days' continuous training, and when general orders ate issued beforehand notifying the exact time and spot where an engagement will take place, between so-and-so representing the en- 80 Sentry Stories emy, whose position will be indicated by red flags, and such and such regiments representing the at- tacking force, who may be distinguished by blue flags. We manage those things better at Easter manoeuvres than we do on service. Here, they don't send round cards of invitation to correspond- ents when a fight is going to take place. One has to chase round the country after it, fighting staff officers on the lines of communication all the way. But that is another story. Since our present illus- trious Commander-in-Chief has taken over the con- duct of the campaign we haven't been able to raise much of a grumble, and what happened prior to this is forgotten — at least for the time. F. Wilkinson, Sydney Daily Telegraph. MISS BLOEMFONTEIN'S ANSWER TO MR. ENGLISHMAN A LOVELESS LETTER Come, tall Mr. Englishman, and sit down beside me, but for the love of heaven, do not look into my eyes, lest they scorch you with a fiery " hate of hate." The blue of mine eyes may be perilously near that blue which men have named electric, and such an electric shock of scorn would they shoot that you would wish yourself amidst the turmoil of war again, some of whose bolts and bombs have taken the lives of our fathers, brothers, friends ! You will not wonder then that I do not like your whole War's Brighter Side army or any part thereof, although it may have done me the great and unwished-for honour of liking me — or you, the conqueror of the land, which is mine by the same right as your little island is yours — the right of old tradition which is so great a factor in the history of nations, and in which our land abounds ; the right of residence which has been ours since our peacefully ruled and hitherto prosperous little Free State was created — the right of love for the land of our birth — the right of pride in our despised beaux, with their homespun suits and lavish beards and whiskers, who have gone out to fight with such bravery for their cause and country. Surely, Mr. Englishman, you of all men should be able to appreciate this factor in them, you who pride yourself on being the bravest man of the bravest of living nations. Were this factor missing in them, would you not have been here five long months ago? Surely you, I say, should be able to overlook such small matters as the bad cut of their coats and the length of their beards. You should know that greatness does not lie in outward seeming. Please do not say " Miss Bloemfontein tripped out to meet us so enticingly;" say, rather, "little Miss Uitlander," who has, as you rightly think, by no means hitherto scorned our homespun youths, and to whom we extended a loving hand when she came, and who now, in return for this, unnecessarily flaunts your colours in our faces, and welcomes you too kindly. Much bitter sorrow was there, oh sir, 82 Sentry Stories when you entered this loved home of ours ; I and my sisters, who felt as would your English dames, were another William Conqueror to take their island home from them, lay in dumb anguish and writhed when the word went forth, " we have fallen into bondage," *' our enemy hath us in his grasp " — and our cup of bitterness was more than full. We do not cling to our old love, who left us with much misgiving to your tender mercies. Mr. Eng- lishman, fain would he have stayed to protect us, but that he had his command to go; — and this is another thing which you, who think so much of dis- cipline, should be able to appreciate. Though for fear of your displeasure we must hide our feelings, you are hateful to us, oh slayer of our brothers and taker of our home ! We will not forget, Mr. Englishman, and are truly grateful to you, that you behaved to us with common courtesy, and stood aside to let us pass ; but surely you, the politest of polite men, would not take credit for that, which should be the birthright of all gentlemen. We dwell not in times of Sabine sister- hoods, good sir ! And if little Miss Uitlander bathe you in smiles, and lisp pretty nothings into your much-astonished ear, call but to mind that she comes from your own " far countree," and has here learned this way of welcoming the conqueror. I am no Boadicea, say you. Oh, sir, you mis- take grievously. I would smite you with mine own hands, were I able. Did you perhaps not catch a 83 War's Brighter Side glimpse of me in General Cronje's laager, whither I went to share the danger with my brother, and cheer him in his arduous task ? True it is that homely comfort abounds in our cottages, and should it not be so? Perhaps there was a time too when your stately sister did not scorn to keep house, instead of attending theatres, soirees, musicales, at-homes. Evidently, Miss Uitlander for- got the divine music of Queen's Hall and Covent Garden, when she crowded to do justice to the awful and untuneful melodies, to which your English bandsmen treated her on the Market Square. But you see " It is so long since she left ' home,' and it is sweet to hear those sounds which come straight from dear old England." I, sir, stopped my ears with cotton wool (for, whatever Miss Bloemfon- tein is, she is musical, and even had I been pleased to see you, I could never have allowed myself to be tortured with those fragments of the divine art). Poor Pan ! he stood afar on the topmost steeple of the Dutch Church, and played his pipes and wept, and had you not been so absorbed in " tripping to your gay tunes," you might have heard faintly steal- ing over our ancient towers " Heeft burghers t'lied der Vrijheid aan," while the organ within our " piously Presbyterian " edifice echoed the anthem, which was caught up by the instrument in your ex- clusively English cathedral, and Miss Bloemfontein heard the echo and was comforted. And now, Mr. Englishman, do you fully realise that I am not pleased to see you, that I hate to have 84 Sentry Stories you here ; I, a real daughter of the soil ? And if to- morrow I could turn you out, I would do so joy- ously, while little Miss Uitlander would stand by, her lovely eyes moist with grateful tears, and whisper, '' That is right," or perhaps push you with her tiny left hand, while she once more extended her right to my badly dressed brothers, as they came over the top of the Bloemfontein Hill ! The gulf between the angry past and the still more angry present will never be bridged, Mr. Eng- lishman. You have made Afrikanderdom by fight- ing us, and have awakened in our breasts the knowl- edge that we are of another sort than yourselves. Only now, with the " Schwanenlied " sounding in our ears, do we feel what it is to have a country — to be a nation ! Miss Bloemfontein. Our Reply to the Lady Dear Miss Bloemfontein, — If there is doubt about which young lady it is who has made us wel- come here, there is none at all about the genuine- ness of your letter and yourself. Its sheets exhale the subtle perfume of the mimosa flower, its strong, free writing reveals the confidence, health, and high spirits of the graceful rider of the veldt! Thank God (and thank you also, my dear) there is no line or phrase of resistance to our suit in all your letter but has a tender phrasing or carries a compli- 85 War's Brighter Side ment — so that we know you do not dislike us a tenth so much as you hate the thought of seeming light-of-love, of feehng that we have dared to pity you, of fancying we think you are to be won for the mere asking. Sweetheart, that was a clumsy letter of ours if it rufifled your maidenly sensitiveness with such mis- apprehensions. Henry V. was not the only one, or the last, of us Englishmen who could war with men better than he could woo women. And as Katharine looked through young Hal's rough armour into his warm and loyal heart, so we ask you to do with us. Well, well ! so it was your cousin, Miss Uitlander, whose azure eyes and twining fingers sent me into my rhapsody of love, while you, the true Katharine, the real princess, have held back, hid in some leafy bower of your pretty capital. Ah, well, it was not her hand that took our heart captive. It was not her eyes that slew us. What we loved was the essence of your soul and spirit which breathed upon us from your park-like seat, from your trees and gardens, from the pretty, happy houses of your subjects. It was you we loved, dear neighbour, you whom we have admired through all your youth and never quarrelled with and never known to be at fault. As I wrote on Saturday, we still stand aside and look upon your charms of peaceful domesticity, all garlanded for your bridegroom. Still, too, we see your selfish, scheming guardian of the past fleeing from the wreck and ruin into which he has plunged 86 Sentry Stories your people. And we see your sworn champions in similar flight, leaving you forlorn, deserted. It is eminently womanly of you to defend these faithless gallants rather than solicit pity for yourself. It is the true maidenhood in you which makes you retire to your bower until you have forced us to acknowl- edge your value and earn your love. If we mis- judged you and fancied you had tripped out to put your hand in ours, it was only because we were so eager and so smitten. We like you better as you are, shy and modest, proud and pure. That deft touch of your pen upon the quality of our music — it was — I mean to say we find no fault in you for — but, no, we may not be disloyal, even to our pipes. It was the best we had to offer, and when better comes from home we fancy that even you will cease to barricade your pearly ears against it. We shall enjoy hearing Pan set your sighs to melody. We promise not to drive him away; he shall ever play your songs just as he trills the lays of ever so many fair maidens who throng around our Queen, and who remember the chains she has stricken from their limbs without for an instant for- getting the traditions which still knit each to her past and her kindred in so many far lands. You speak of the " great honour " of our liking you. You extol our bravery. You admit our " tender mercies " and our love of order. You say you will not forget our courtesy to your people or our modesty. You call us " the politest of polite men " — ah, dear little Afrikander, we treasure each 87 War's Brighter Side word in each of those sentences. We cannot help taking heart of hope. If you can speak of us so fair to-day, when the whispers of your old lover still sound in your ears, what may we not expect in time to come ? We will not try to hurry your heart, but we warn you we shall melt it. For we love you, and there is no selfish prompting, no hope of mercenary gain in our affection. We love you be- cause you are irresistible, even with your dimpled little hand clenched, and, perhaps, partly because of the lightning that flashes in your pretty eyes. Julian Ralph. JOINING HANDS WITH GATACRE AND CLEMENTS On Thursday morning last a small force was despatched by train from Bloemfontein to the South, in order to open up the country, to find out the dispositions of the enemy between here and the Orange River, and, if possible, to join hands with the British forces now operating in the direc- tion of Stormberg and Colesberg. The force consisted of 4 guns and 66 men of the 84th Battery, R.F.A., 21 mounted men of Roberts* Horse Bodyguard, 6 Grahamstown MJ., a section of the M.R.E., and 2 battalions of Guards (3rd Grenadiers and ist Scots), totalling about 2,100 men and 120 horses, besides vehicles and mules sufficient to make the force mobile if required. We moved off in 5 trains, the first being a short 88 Sentry Stories " breakdown " pilot train in charge of Lieutenant Mozley, R.E., carrying an advanced party of 51 Grenadiers under Capt. Clive. Ten minutes after, a full train of Grenadiers, carrying in addition Major-General Pole-Carew, C.B., commanding the expedition, and his Staff ; and the other three trains carried the remainder of the force. We were in hopes that there would be some parties of the enemy between us and the Orange, especially as Edenburg was reported occupied ; and the country between that and the river ought to have been swarming with Boers opposing the advance of Generals Gatacre and Clements. But, as it turned out, we had no chance of loosing of¥ even one round, and our progress was peaceful and unwarlike in the extreme. At Kaalspruit we met Lieut. Russell Brown, R.E., who had just returned off an adventurous trip per train to Edenburg, which he had reconnoitred in the dark when it was full of Boers. After that we steamed slowly along, and reconnoitred Kaffir and Riet River Bridges, with a view to their occupation if necessary. As it was quite possible that stray Boers might walk into the telegraph offices behind us and read off any messages going through, we transferred the instruments to the safer keeping of the detachments of Scots Guards we left at the bridges. The discon- necting of wires at one of the stations was carried out by a highly distinguished and zealous party of Grenadier officers, headed by the CO. himself, but 89 War's Brighter Side the result was somewhat unfortunate, as messages refused to pass through for some considerable time afterwards. Edenburg was approached at dusk, but, thanks to a friend who told us that the enemy had evacuated it, we had no need to use caution in so doing. On the contrary, we were warmly welcomed on coming to a standstill, and found a deputation of three ready to hand over the keys of the town and to ask for protection. The General received the deputation, consisting of the Landdrost, Mr. Fourie, Mr. Groenwoud and the Clerk of the Council, graciously, but demanded, as a guarantee of good faith, that all arms and am- munition in the town and district should be given up. This was agreed to, and messengers were despatched to the Commandant and two Field-cornets, who lived some way off, to come in next morning at 6 and arrange the matter with the General. A mes- senger was also sent to warn the Fauresmith commando of 400 to 500 men, which was approach- ing the town, that they had better disperse, as the British were in possession and might fire on them if they came too near. The commando had, how- ever, kindly anticipated the purport of this message, and had already melted away on its own initiative. Edenburg is a pretty little town, well supplied with water and provisions of all sorts. But its chief posesssion must be acknowledged to be a veritable Don Juan, to judge from the number of affectionate letters addressed to him that were found among the budget seized at the Post Office. This young man, 90 Sentry Stories who shall be nameless, must have broken the hearts of numberless charming ladies. Letters from every part of the Free State and a large portion of the Transvaal, some couched in most amorous language, others upbraiding him for faithlessness, all signed by names of the fair sex (mostly without the addition of a surname), brought a hot blush to the brow of the unfortunate officer whose duty it was to scan their contents. It was past i a.m. before he had finished his work, but the fair writers may rest assured that their missives will all reach their desti- nation in time, and their secrets remain locked in the breast of that particular Staff Officer. Early next morning the town was awakened by a series of violent explosions, which caused several timid people to imagine that a serious battle was raging. It was, however, caused by the burning of 67,000 rounds of ammunition which had been taken from the gaol and court house and which were being destroyed by order. Five hundred rifles were also taken, all of them Martinis, except twenty-one. After arranging with Commander Cloete and the Field-cornets van der Merwe and Roule the details of handing over the rifles, &c., to their districts, the General proceeded on his way, and soon arrived at Jagersfontein Road. Here we were met by a Union Jack and patriotic inhabitants, but rapidly steamed on to Springfontein,on hearing that General Gatacre had crossed the Orange River at Bethulie, and was expected that morning at Springfontein Junction. We arrived at this place at ten o'clock and, to our War's Brighter Side secret joy, found no signs yet of a British occupa- tion. We heard, however, that an engine had brought two EngHsh officers thither from BethuHe on a short visit the night before. Shortly after arriving mounted scouts of Mont- morency's Horse made their appearance, and were followed by General Gatacre, who rode up, some- what surprised to find us already in possession. Cordial greetings were exchanged between the Gen- erals, and after a short stay we pushed on in the direction of Norval's Pont, which we were assured had been evacuated by the enemy 24 hours before. On the strength of this information we left the three rear trains behind, and pushed on through rapidly steepening country to Prior's Siding. Here we were enthusiastically welcomed by the only in- habitants, two Russian Jews, who so far allowed their feelings to overpower their pockets as to pre- sent the General with a box of excellent cigars in honour of the new flag. Another half hour through a horrid defile brought us to Donkerpoort, and at this uninviting station we found the vanguard of General Clements' force. These had crossed the Orange River by means of a pontoon bridge, flung across the river 2-J miles below the great bridge, and consisted of a squadron of Inniskillings, the 4th Field Battery, 250 Australians, and some Infantry. As we steamed slowly ahead, the extended lines of horsemen advancing over the plain raised cheer after cheer, and we were moreover honoured by a 92 Sentry Stories patriotic officer dismounting and taking a historical snapshot with the ever-present kodak at the advanc- ing engine. This latter, one should add, was adorned by 4 officers sitting just over the cow- catcher, who obtained an excellent view of the sur- rounding country. Their admiration was, however, somewhat tempered by the knowledge of a widely spread report that at certain places there lurked under the line masses of deadly dynamite. Con- siderable caution was at first observed at the cul- verts ; but when the engine-driver assured us that dynamite was hidden at one place only, and that place known to him, we bade him proceed until within 50 yards of the spot, and then halt. When within half a mile of the bridge, we asked whether the fatal place was near at hand. Judge of our mingled horror and relief when we heard that the miscreant driver had not recognised the spot until within 5 yards of it, and had driven unwillingly over it at full speed ! Except for a short glimpse a mile back, one cannot, from a train, see the bridge broadways on. It was, therefore, difficult to estimate the exact damage that had been done as we approached it, even when we had walked out as far as we could go, and actually stood over the gap. The wreck is terrific; 3 spans and one pier had been blown up and lay in the water 100 feet below, connected with the standing part of a steep and tangled wreckage of beams, girders, and iron. Three months at least must elapse before the bridge can be thoroughly 93 War's Brighter Side in working order again ; but a little bird has whispered in the ear of the writer that by an in- genious series of connections from bank to bank a very large amount of stores will shortly be pass- ing across. Those Burghers who refused twice, when ordered, to blow up the bridge, were wise men in their generation, for its destruction will mean a much more serious loss to the Free State than to the British troops. 94 CHAPTER VI Ours was no Bed of Roses Kipling's regard for " Tommy Poetry " — Our English as it was set up by Boer compositors " The Friend " was an afternoon paper pub- lished at three or four or five o'clock in the even- ing, according as the Dutch compositors chose to get it out. We editors went to our tiny edi- torial room between nine and ten o'clock in the morning, and worked until lunch time — one o'clock — writing, seeing visitors, correcting proofs, and reading manuscripts. What I have called " seeing visitors " mainly consisted in turning away private soldiers who came for copies of the paper. Though we posted notices that ours was the editorial room, and that papers were to be had at Barlow's stationery shop, "Tommy" would insist upon coming to us; therefore we gave up a large part of our time to sending him away, now yelling at him, now bursting into profanity, and anon pleading most 8 95 War's Brighter Side politely that we were neither newsboys nor rail- way bookstall keepers. What I have called " reading manuscripts " was largely the work of examining the poetry of this same Mr. Atkins, who, fired by the genius of Mr. Kipling, is sometimes a better poet than you would think, sometimes a worse poet than you can imagine, but is generally a poet — of one sort or another. We had good '' Tommy " poets in our ranks, wherefore, when Mr. Kipling came, he insisted that all soldier poetry should be religiously read, and the best of it pubhshed. He pored over miles — but we are coming to him presently. At the idea of re-writing and improving Tommy's verse he was pained, and when Mr. James Barnes, on one occasion, spent half a day in putting a " Tommy " poem into Queen's English, Mr. Kipling was righteously indignant, and spent an hour in getting it back to Tommy's ver- nacular. The rest of the time of all except the man who wrote the leader of the day w^as spent in correcting the typographical errors of the Dutch compositors, who, by the way, could make more numerous and more dreadful mistakes in type than ever an intelligence officer made in getting news of the enemy. The consequence was that we often took up the first paper that reached us 96 EPfl0NT AND LARI^ NEST. discrimin|^ting )4oer having laid hestful of valuable and infyrming eggs, fled across the horizon under pressure of necessity le^ing his nest in a secluded spot where it was THE STAFF. 4- /^^^ discovered by a disinterested observed fff" I who reported the same to an ( nte^li- tJ / / gjprceTfficer. The latter arriving at ' ^_ / his leisure with a great pompopit^y ^ <. » i said " Jee me hatch ^ ^nd sitting j lo\ down without reserve converted the &1 entire output into /n unnece88anu__/__-.^ — omelette. After the mess was re- » i moved, the disinterested observer ^/ observed : — " )iad you approached this matter in another spirit you might h*ve obtained valuable information." "That," ^iifil^ replied the intelligence j/ i^flBcer, " shis your nj^rrow-minded / prejudice. Besides I am morally ^/ certain that those eggs c«(me out of- ^/ mf re's nest." " It is now too lilte" / to enquire " said the disinterested (^1 observer, " fnd that is a pity." " But / am I not an intelligentofl S JgJ Pl^id the /ntelligenoe 4ffficer "Of ^^ ^1 that there can be no tw^ opinions," said the disinterested observer. Whereupon he was sent down. Moral. Do not' teach, the /intelli- gence to Jmtch eggs fc^/ A Corrected "Proof" by Rudyard Kipling. (Giving a glimpse of the struggle between the editors and the Dutch compositors.) Ours was no Bed of Roses from the presses, and with a sigh assured each other that it was almost wholly given up to bad verse and printers' errors. At noon during these early days one of us would gather up all the proofs that we could get from the printers, and march over to Lord Stan- ley's ofifice to have them censored. He was so considerate and liberal that this soon proved a mere formality. I think he must have regarded the eccentric but interesting journal as a child of his own, or at least as one whose parentage he would be too polite to dispute if Lord Roberts claimed it. We used to hear how very much the great Field Marshal, also, was interested in it; how eagerly he secured his copy every day, and how much he Uked all that it contained. A visitor at the Residency told us that one after- noon Lord Roberts saw an officer reading The Friend, and called to one of his stafif: '' I see a man in there reading The Friend. How is it I have not had my copy? " The officer's paper proved to be a copy of an earlier number, so that the Field Marshal's wounded pride was healed. But we Hked that story; we liked it very much indeed. Our fifth number, published on March 21st, began with Mr. Gwynne's hearty leader on Rud- yard Kipling, who was expected to reach Bloem- fontein on that day. Mr. Gwynne also wrote one 97 War's Brighter Side of his characteristic satirical articles on '' The Soberest Army in the World." Mr. Landon con- tributed a lively and picturesque narrative of the principal feat our despatch riders had per- formed up to that time, and I perpetrated a modest bit of reporting on South Africa's at- tractions — an article of greater interest here and now than it was then and for our army readers. We had made it known that private soldiers would be charged only a penny for the paper, the original threepence being demanded solely of officers. In this way we hoped to earn a greater profit than by shutting out of our trade the humble private, to whom a threepence (a " ticky," as it is called in Africa) sometimes ap- pears as big as a cart-wheel. But our new plan brought us a lot of trouble — especially of the kind you feel when you know you are being done out of something and yet cannot help yourself. The fact was that the officers encamped at a dis- tance sent in their servants for their papers, and these messengers, being privates, only paid a penny for each paper. Then, again, the officers were dressed so nearly like the men that the newsboys and assistants in Barlow's shop could not distinguish them apart, and charged many of the officers the penny of the private. This an- noyed us, because we were intent upon making 98 Ours was no Bed of Roses as much money as possible in order to turn over a handsome sum to a soldier charity when we should end our stewardship — for not a penny did we mean to keep for ourselves. Mr. Landon wrote a strenuous appeal to the officers to help us to get our just dues. To the same paper Mr. A. B. Paterson, of the Sydney Herald, contrib- uted a very clever bit of verse, entitled, ^' Fed up.'' He was one of the contributors of whom we were most proud — and justly so. In this day's paper there were seventeen notices of horses lost — presumably stolen, but a close scrutiny of all horse-flesh was in progress, and in the same column with the wails of the robbed was a notice of the recovery of twenty- one horses — none of them being the same as any of the lost that were advertised for. The Pro- vost-Marshal, Major R. M. Poore, on this day announced that every native with a horse must carry a certificate proving that the animal was his own. He also declared that every person pos- sessing any property of the Orange Free State Government — horses, mules, oxen, or anything else — must quickly hand it up. Lord Roberts reviewed the Naval Brigade on the preceding day, and we had a report of it showing how splendidly Captain Bearcroft's command appeared. The late Admiral Maxse, out there on a visit, witnessed the review, and 99 War's Brighter Side said that it was the first one he had attended since the Crimea, when he acted as naval A.D.C. to Lord Raglan. This review gave us all one of our rare chances of seeing Lord Roberts, for he went out but little, and even at such times hur- ried directly to his destination, returning with as little loss of time. Every man, of every rank, saluted him, and he was scrupulously careful to return the salute even of the bugler boys. It was said to be surprising to note how many men he knew of all ranks, and how watchful and ob- servant he was. '' You managed that very cleverly," he would say to a man in conflict with unruly horses; or he would reprove a soldier for untidiness in dress. Nothing escaped his rest- less eyes. He wore no decorations of any kind, and I have even heard it said that not every coat of his was decked with gilt buttons — though this I re- peat only upon hearsay. I can testify, however, that no man more modest and making less of his rank was in his army. I always saw him in plain khaki with that badge of mourning upon one sleeve which gave us all a keener thrust in our emotions than even the hardest felt losses of comrades and acquaintances which befell us all so frequently. ICO Ours was no Bed of Roses THE FRIEND. BLOEMFONTEIN, MARCH 21, I900. RUDYARD KIPLING EDITORIAL BY H. A. GWYNNE To-day we expect to welcome here in our camp the great poet and writer, who has contributed more than any one perhaps towards the consolidation of the British Empire. His visit is singularly appro- priate. He will find encamped round the town not only his friend Tommy Atkins, but the Australian, the Canadian, the New Zealander, the Tasmanian, the volunteer from Ceylon, from Argentine, and from every quarter of the globe. He will see the man of the soil — the South African Britisher — side by side with his fellow colonist from over the seas. In fact, Bloemfontein will present to him the actual physical fulfilment of what must be one of his dearest hopes — the close union of the various parts of the greatest Empire in the world. His visit, therefore, will have in it something of the triumph of a con- queror — a conqueror who, with the force of genius, has swept away barriers of distance and boundary, and made a fifth of the globe British, not only in title, but in real sentiment. We, belonging to that portion of the Press to which is assigned the duty of witnessing and chroni- cling the deeds which make history, extend to the illustrious writer a welcome, sincere and whole- lOI War's Brighter Side hearted. We feel, all of us, that his brush alone can do complete justice to the wonderful pictures of war which we have been privileged to see. We, who have been w^ith Tommy Atkins on many a hard cam- paign, have long ago come to love him for his quiet, unostentatious courage and his patient endurance of hardships, but we feel that Mr. Kipling alone can translate to the world the true inwardness of Tom- my's character. We feel sure that the Mulvaneys, the Leroyds, and the Ortherises will welcome him as heartily as we do, and we are hopeful that this fresh meeting of Tommy Atkins and perhaps the only man who rightly understands him, will be pro- ductive of fresh pictures of the British soldier. THE SOBEREST ARMY IN THE WORLD BY H. A. GWYNNE The force which, under the command of Field- Marshal Lord Roberts, left Enslin and occupied Bloemfontein will undoubtedly be known in history as the " Sober Army." Never before in the history of campaigning has there been known such an ab- sence of excess in the way of drinking — and eating too, as far as that is concerned. Some people have dared to cast aspersions on the British army by in- sinuating that drunkenness is not unknown among its members. They have even gone further and declared that officers and men are very fond of their " tot " or their '' pint " or their whisky and soda. I 102 Ours was no Bed of Roses only wish some of these calumniators could have accompanied Lord Roberts' force. They would have recanted on the spot, and returned home con- vinced that the British army was not only the finest but the soberest in the world. Their excessive sobriety and wonderful self- restraint in the face of temptation rather tempts one to delve deep down for the psychological reasons. I have myself made inquiries, but I must confess that I am at a loss for a real reason. My firm belief is that the British soldier is so actuated by a deep sense of duty that, having come to the conclusion that hard drinking and hard fighting were incompatible, he promptly dropped the former and devoted all his energies to the latter. It would have been expected that at the end of a long, dusty march the men would have, immediately after being dismissed, made a rush for the canteen. Nothing of the sort. They sat down to tea and cofiPee and left the canteen waiters kicking their heels doing nothing. It is true one or two soldiers have told me that they couldn't find the canteen, but the majority of the men chose, of their own free will, to ignore its existence, and actually never looked for it. But this noble continence, this splendid self-restraint has been very nearly spoilt by the folly and wickedness of some of the authorities. They actually issued rum to the men at intervals. Now one of Tommy's greatest virtues is obedience. He was ordered to drink rum and he did it — just as he advanced against a kopje spitting forth lead when he was ordered. But the task of swallowing the 103 War's Brighter Side hateful stuff was distasteful in the extreme. I have seen him take his mug and get his tot and then look at his officer as much as to say, " must I really take it ? " The officer's answering glance was invariably a command which poor Tommy could not disobey, and he tossed off the liquor with one gulp to get it over all the quicker, and then hold his mug upside down to show he had done the deed. One would have thought, indeed, that this wonderful self-restraint would be destroyed in the wild rush of joy with which the army was filled the night that Cronje surrendered. Not a bit of it. The men lying on the soaking ground never touched a drop of alcohol, although many would say that the victory of our arms deserved an alcoholic celebration. But that night the canteens were as deserted as ever. One man, and one man only, fell. He was an officer's servant, and was discovered gloriously happy, delightedly drunk. His comrades kept hitting and punching him and asking him where he had found the liquor, it evidently being their firm intention to destroy it. He refused, however, to answer a word until his master found him and, seizing him by the shoulder, shook him, and ex- claimed with eager face, " Good Heavens, Jones, where the devil did you get it ? " And Jones an- swered drunkenly to an eager crowd of expectant officers and men, " Meth'lated Shpirits, Shir. I'sh found it in waggon." Whereupon ten eager voices asked — " Is there any left? " 104 Ours was no Bed of Roses *' No ; finished whole blooming lotsh." And then his comrades gently kicked him for a cur. CORRESPONDENCE To the Editors of *' The Friend " Gentlemen, — I have read with much of interest one article in one of your last issues touching the steal at the horses. As a veteran of the war of 1870, I think that this would be of interest towards much of your abonnes if I should write some words of my proper experi- ences. It appears by the article in the number of The Friend of the 19th that the writer desires to carry to the observation of those who themselves find in authority, that by their proper negligence he has been forced to become that which you other English call jail-bird. Now I have made the war of 1870. I was dragon. I have suffered the same privations and I have smelt the same difficulties on the question of horses, but never I not have failed of myself to find without horse of war. This without myself to boast. I not desire to blame the author of this article praiseworthy, who, as he appears to wish to himself efface, in myself offering as counsellor, but since, as to myself seems that he wishes to hold one sale of his animals that it is all this that he has of most imbecile of to announce on the roofs his crime. 105 War's Brighter Side An officer of dragons in 1870, 1 was having at the month of the June twenty horses of the first quaUty, grand, strong, majestic animals, worthy of to carry one officer of dragons in battle against those canailles of Prussians. At the month of September after Sedan he not me was remaining nothing, and I not was having not even the means of me to save in Belgium. What to do ! — Officer French not is able not to render himself. Ah ! not know I not the anguish of himself to find without horse. What have I done ? To steal, no! This was indignant of officer. To buy, no ! I of it not was having not of what. I was aperceiving in the distance one horse of officer of the Estate Major. This was the horse of my poor friend Gu-gu, evidently killed or gravely blessed. It if not, why not was he not, the brave gar, mounted on his horse, directing the flight ? In one instant I myself was launched thereon without hesitation. To save the horse favourite of my poor friend dead Gu-gu was my first thought. In rending to his corpse this little service I was rending to my patrie one service again more grand. I myself was reserv- ing for one death more epouvantable. Then, since that he is possible of to find the horses of friends blessed, for what himself to submit at the stigma of to be accused of to be thief. More late, when one wishes to sell the horses, one himself finds in face of one difficulty inextricable, if the proper proprietor himself finds upon the market. Gu-gu I have found more late in Paris, it is true, 106 Ours was no Bed of Roses but we have eaten the good horse together Hke good comrades. Agree my compliments most respected, M. Vol au Vent. (The Editors, for obvious reasons, divest them- selves of any responsibility for the opinions held by our distinguished Gallic friend.) " FED UP ! " The Cavalryman's Growl BY A. B. PATERSON I ain't a timid man at all, I'm just as brave as most; I'll take my turn in open fight and die beside my post. But riding round the whole day long as target for a Krupp, A-drawing fire from koppies — well, I'm quite Fed Up! There's not so many men get hit — it's luck that pulls us through, Their rifle fire's no class at all — it misses me and you; But when they sprinkle shells around like water from a cup From that there bloomin' pom-pom gun — well, I'm Fed Up! 107 War's Brighter Side We never gets a chance to charge — to do a thrust and cut — I think ril chuck the Cavalry and join the Mounted Fut. But, after all, what's Mounted Fut? I saw them t'other day, They occupied a koppie when the Boers had run away. The Cavalry went ridin' on, and seen a score of fights. But there they stuck, those Mounted Fut, for seven days and nights — For seven solid days and nights — with scarce a bite or sup. So when it comes to Mounted Fut — well, I'm Filled Up. And trampin' with the Footies ain't as pleasant as it looks — They scarcely ever sees a Boer, except in picture books. They make a march of twenty mile, which leaves 'em nearly dead, And then they find the bloomin' Boers is twenty mile ahead ! Each " Footy " is as full of fight as any bulldog pup, But walking forty miles to fight — well, Fm Fed Up ! So, after all, I think that when I leave the Caval-ree ril have to join the Ambulance, or else the A.S.C. 1 08 Ours was no Bed of Roses There's always tucker in the plate and coffee in the cup, But bully beef and biscuits — well, I'm fair Fed Up ! MISS BLOEMFONTEIN There appears to be some general misapprehen- sion as to the authenticity of the letter written by " Miss Bloemfontein " in our issue of yesterday. The Editors wish to state that the communication in question was written by a lady, a member of a well- known family in this city, and undoubtedly reflects with wit and frankness the feeling of many of those to whom the abandonment of this place to the Brit- ish forces has been a bitter disappointment. THE GREAT RIDE BY PERCIVAL LANDON The newspapers of the world published a notice of the surrender of Bloemfontein on the evening of Thursday, March 15th. The Boers had wrecked the telegraph line to the south of the town; to the west the field telegraph was useless ; yet perhaps not one reader in ten mil- lions stayed a moment to wonder how the news had reached them. When Lord Roberts left Doornboom the entire expedition was en Vaire. Telegraphic communication 109 War's Brighter Side was at the mercy of the passing ox or the malicious passer-by, rain and wind were almost equally de- structive, and the inevitable breakdown occurred. The wire, aerial or earth-borne, was useless in forty- eight hours, and, so far as outer communication was concerned, Bloemfontein and all around and within it might have been Tristan d'Acunha. But the London papers published the full ac- count of the surrender on the second day after the capitulation. The manner in which news was sent to the Eng- lish papers may perhaps be of interest. It must be remembered that there was then no communica- tion with the south. It was impossible to pick up the cut wire north of Norval's Pont. The line from Kimberley to Boshof lies, even as we write, in a cat's cradle on the veldt. There was no option, the telegrams must be sent through Kimberley and by despatch riders. Perhaps it is truer to say that one or two Lon- don papers did so, for a certain number relied — and with justice — on the recuperative powers of Captain Faussett and his myrmidons of the wire. To ride a hundred miles across the veldt against time, and against at least two other competing riders, through the enemy's country, and at a mo- ment's notice, is not the least exciting occupation that can be chosen by a light-weight searching for a new sensation. It combines the certainty of hardship and dis- comfort with the possibility of being shot ; and over no Ours was no Bed of Roses and above all is the pressing need of saving every minute of time. Three despatch riders set out from Bloemfon- tein during the evening of Tuesday or the earliest dawn of Wednesday. First in order of starting was the Times messenger, second that of Renter's Agency, third came the " angelos " of the Daily Mail. From Bloemfontein to Kimberley is, as we have said, a distance of a hundred miles. It is best understood by a Londoner by suggesting the comparison that he should be compelled to ride to Hereford every time he wished to despatch a telegram. Out from the isolated city the messengers went, making their way in the darkness or in the dawn over the red slushing tracks that had suf- fered the steady downpour of the night's rain, till, by whichever road they had moved out of Bloemfontein, they met at the battle-ground of Driefontein. From that point onwards the struggle became keen, and the breakdown of a horse meant a delay that might perhaps be reckoned in days rather than hours. The public that glances casually at the tele- grams of their morning papers does not often realise the importance of a few minutes to the correspond- ents whose work they are reading. In this case, besides the ordinary delay, the lonely riders that were making way across the veldt had to spur them on the risk of finding the Field Telegraph repaired 9 III War's Brighter Side before they could reach the Diamond City, and the cable blocked with messages sent over their heads from Bloemfontein. Early in the great race the Times rider met with disaster. The horse he rode fell, and though the injury seemed slight enough at the time, never properly recovered itself, causing a delay of some hours before the next relay could be reached. But the Daily Mail was still more unlucky. Starting last of all, the well-known light-weight who carried the fortunes of the " largest circulation of this earth " made his way forward through the fading light of Wednesday, gaining rapidly on his predecessors, and, confident in the excellent pro- vision made for him, was getting out of his mount the last pound of pace, when a cut corner flung him against a barbed wire fence, which so terribly lacerated his leg that further riding was out of the question. Binding up his scratches as best he might, he found himself compelled to walk back thirty-five miles to Bloemfontein, unable to ride, and at the journey's end almost unable to stand. So the Times and Renter — each armed with a duplicate despatch from the Commander-in-Chief — were left to compete for the contingent advantage of getting first into Kimberley. And now was done a notable achievement. Browning, in his poem, " How we brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix," has chosen, by an odd accident, exactly the distance which divides 112 Ours was no Bed of Roses Kimberley from Bloemfontein, but we can rest as- sured that the '' good news " of the capture of the Boer capital sped on as fast as ever went the news across the fiat plains of Flanders. Over the grey sage-brush of the veldt, over the high, dry grass, under the rare shade of poplar trees, where the horse was watered, along the red crumb- ling road or the mere beaten wheel track where a thousand waggons and twenty thousand animals had worn a temporary track, the hurrying hoof of the courier's mount lessened the long distance between the capital of the O.F.S. and the end of that wire of which the other lies in the capital of the world. In the afternoon of Wednesday three bullets whistled past the rider of the Agency, and the news- paper's courier had a similar experience at the same spot as he passed a little later. It soon became obvious that there was no possi- bility of getting into Kimberley in time to send the despatches before the office closed for the day, and the Times despatch rider took the latter stages of the journey more easily. Renter's man,^ however, con- tinued his ride at his utmost speed, and actually achieved what will long remain a record, travelling the entire distance on three horses in twenty hours and twenty minutes. The need for such lengthy despatch riding luck- ily seldom occurs, as the expense is one of the ' Gilbert H. Stevens. War's Brighter Side heaviest items that can be incurred by newspaper representatives on behalf of their papers ; only in the very exceptional circumstances in which the war correspondents found themselves at the capture of Bloemfontein would the enormous expenditure be justified. 114 CHAPTER VII RuDYARD Kipling, Associate Editor A chapter which introduces a Prince, and tells of our Appeal to the whole Army to write for The Friend The next day's issue, that of March 22nd, was the best-looking number we had produced. We dropped those Httle frames on either side of the title of the paper which journalists call " ears " or '' ear-tabs," so that the front page looked dignified and ship-shape, and the title read simply The Friend, without its former addenda of '' Playing cards " and " Cue tips." In place of these we printed the royal coat-of- arms. This issue contained a heart-felt eulogy of Sir W. S. A. Lockhart by the Field Marshal. General Kelly in Camp Orders declared that hereafter horse thieves would be severely dealt with, and there appeared a notice by Prince Francis of Teck, *' Staff Captain, Remount De- partment," that the army desired horses of cer- 115 War's Brighter Side tain ages and a certain height, as well as agents to buy them. This reminds all who were at Bloemfontein how the Prince came and put up at the Bloem- fontein Hotel, and began to fill up an immense yard just on the edge of the town with a marvel- lous collection of veldt horses, all of which, I understood, he succeeded in buying at £25 a-piece, though I had just paid £100 for a pair, and most men were giving £40 at the least for every horse. The Prince worked like a beaver all the time he was at Bloemfontein. There went to the stalwart and kindly Prince one day an artist who said he desired to surrender two mules which did not belong to him. It was not the truth that he desired to give them up, nor was it out of politeness that he told the false- hood. The fact was that the army had taken his horses and left him a pair of feeble, poorly ani- mated steeds of the clothes-horse pattern, which gave out on the long road between Poplar Grove and Bloemfontein. At the same time two healthy mules, astray on the veldt, evinced a yearning for human companionship, and insisted upon intruding themselves upon the company of the artist and his Basiito servant while they were preparing lunch. To go on with his own weak and sick animals was to invite a loss of locomo- tive power in a country infested with Boers. To 116 Rudyard Kipling, Associate Editor make use of the fresher mules was the natural and obvious alternative. Therefore the artist abandoned his horses and went on with the mules. Arrived in Bloemfontein, he at once continued his travels by joining the '' bill-stick- ing expedition " of General French over to Thab N'chu and the region beyond. " Bill-sticking," by the way, was our name for the distribution of copies of Lord Roberts's proclamation calling on the Boers to lay down their arms and sign a promise not to continue the war. When the artist returned to Bloem- fontein he was met by friends who said that he would certainly be shot if he was found to be using animals that did not belong to him. Lord Roberts had grown angry, it was said, and had exclaimed aloud that no matter who or what the man might be, the next offender in this respect should be shot. It was this stentorian cry, and not the still, small voice of conscience, that sent the artist to the Prince, to whom he told the truth and made formal surrender of the mules. " And very nice indeed it is of you," said the Prince, " very honest and straightforward. I will send some one to get the mules this afternoon." " But, I beg pardon," said the artist, " now everything's all right, isn't it? The mules were not mine, and I have surrendered them, and there's no trouble to follow? " 117 War's Brighter Side " No, indeed," said Prince Francis, " I am much obliged to you. Animals are very scarce and we need all we can get ; so very good of you to do as you have done." ** Well, now," said the artist, " won't you please let me keep the mules? The Army stole my horses and left me a broken-down pair. I had to turn them loose and take these mules or I should have been killed or captured by the Boers. I have nothing else to move on with. I wish you would let me keep the mules." " Really," said the Prince, " I cannot do that. I never heard such a proposition in my life. I have no authority to do as you ask. Upon my word, this is most extraordinary. Come, I'll tell you what I will do. I'll see that you get a pair of animals at the Army price. I can't sell them to you or buy them for you, but I can have a pair put aside for you to buy of somebody who brings them in to sell." No one who was not there can form any idea of the extent to which this looting or com- mandeering of horses was then being practised. They were stolen not only from in front of the Club — the busiest spot in the heart of the town — but from before the headquarters of Lord Roberts, and from in front of the hotels. Men were desperate; so many were without horses. Ii8 Rudyard Kipling, Associate Editor Sicknesses, slaughter, and overwork had left us with less than half the animals we needed. At about this time a foreign correspondent who was never guilty of taking even an aban- doned Boer horse, but who had purchased a fine animal of a negro on the veldt for five shiUings, became very nervous over his purchase. He went to the stable and with the help of his serv- ant clipped the animal close, so that it no longer resembled the long-haired beast he had bought. Then he went out into the street and met a Boer who accused him of having taken his horse and who exactly described the animal in question. The Boer said he would report the case to Major Poore, the Provost-Marshal. The now fright- ened correspondent came to my room with his burden of sorrows, and stated his case to the company of officers, correspondents, and de- spatch-riders then present. " The Boer's name is Voorboom," he said, " and he is in earnest. I suppose I shall be sent home in disgrace." At the mention of the name three men spoke up saying that of all the rascals in need of a hang- ing this Voorboom was the sorriest. One had seen Boer combatants in Voorboom's house, an- other had seen Voorboom's brother trundling into a clump of bushes an English carriage which he had stolen, a third had met Voorboom and 119 War's Brighter Side his negroes riding far and wide gathering up loose horses — English or Boer — which he was undoubtedly now bringing to town to sell to the Army. '' Give him an hour in which to leave town or go to jail at Simon's Bay," said a Colonel, end- ing the incident. Mr. Kipling was in town at last and had promised us his assistance, but we could not then know whether this would be great or Httle; we could not have hoped or dreamed that it would prove a quarter or a third part of all our work, as it did. On the other hand, we were only too painfully aware that very little aid was being vouchsafed us. We found ourselves, with a great newspaper on our hands, a newspaper with a gap- ing void of terrible dimensions. '' Renter " had promised its despatches to us, but these were not allowed on the crowded telegraph wires for days at a time, as it proved, and the whole burden was upon us joined to the necessity we felt to do our full duty to our newspapers at home — one at least of which demanded a despatch every day and four letters a week if possible. The army had been counted upon for valuable and volumi- nous help, and it was practically sending us in nothing. It was agreed that I should stir up the consciences and pens of all our friends and read- ers in an ink-blast, fierce and loud. I did this in 1 20 Rudyard Kipling, Associate Editor the editorial of the day entitled, '' The Silent Army": — Other armies (I wrote) have always been dis- tinguished by brilliant raconteurs. Other armies have always contained a plenitude of wits and humourists. Other armies have been noted for the abundance of funny anecdotes with which chum assailed chum and battalion guyed battalion. Other armies have taken note of the more striking deeds of prowess, of valour and of strategy which have been done among their members, and other armies have boasted poets grave, poets gay, poets rollick- ing, and poets who dedicated their verses to their mistress's eyebrows. Alas ! none of these things has this poor army — so poor in wit and literary talent, however rich it be in courage, patience, dogged persistence and proud victories. This army is like a sponge for taking what enter- tainment the sweating editors of The Friend will give it. It is like a barnacle for fastening itself upon us and fattening its dead weight upon this little lit- erary bark. It is like a horse behind our waggon, which was built, like most vehicles, to have its horses in front. It is like the veldt around us in its capacity to swallow any amount of refreshing rain and yet appear as dry in four hours afterwards as if it were the pavement of that place which can only be referred to by the use of one particular anecdote, which is as follows : — " If I owned Satandom and South Africa," said 121 War's Brighter Side a Canadian Tommy at Modder River, " I would rent out South Africa and live in Satandom." But we nearly digressed — a sin unpardonable in an article so important as this, written hot upon the impulse of suffering and keen feeling. The committee of war correspondents with Lord Roberts' army, who undertook to conduct, for the first time in history, a full-fledged complete daily newspaper published in an enemy's capital two days after the conquest thereof, are all busy men in their own line of industry. They have constant daily work to do, they are trusted by their own news- papers to devote their whole talents and energies to the interests of the public at home. Nevertheless they have turned aside to conduct this newspaper, they are doing so, and will continue to do so to the day the army pushes on and away. But in undertaking this task their idea was that they merely had to start the paper and give it a momentum, after which the army would turn to and flood the editorial sanctum with tales of humour, wit, and prowess writ upon sheets numberless as the leaves of Vallambrosa. The reader will gather that this has not yet taken place. He will infer that the war correspondents are, like the last rose of summer, left blooming to our- selves. True, two or three generous and gifted souls in the army have come nobly into the breach with contributions ; but the breach is nine columns wide — nine columns that persist in emptying themselves as fast as we fill them ; in fact, nine columns which 122 Rudyard Kipling, Associate Editor become fifty-four columns between each Monday and the succeeding Saturday. It is on this account that when the two or three generous and talented army men flung themselves in the breach, the breach was not aware of the fact — and we have not had the heart to wake it up and notify it that it was being filled, not caring to tell a falsehood even to a silly breach. Come, then, ye gentles and geniuses, ye poets, ye anecdotists, ye thrillers and movers with the pen — join our staff, and put your mighty little ink-damped levers to the rock that we are rolling up the gigantic kopje of your thirst for news and entertainment. Your pay shall be the highest ever meted out to man — the satisfaction of souls content. Your com- pany shall include a Kipling. Your readers shall be the bravest, noblest, proudest soldiers who ever served an earthly race. You can ask no more. You can ask nothing else. But in the meantime we want " copy." We published also a brief communication respecting the Dutch name Stellenbosch. This needs a word of explanation. It had long been noticed that whenever an of^cer was prominently connected with a losing battle, or exhibited marked incompetence in any field of military work, he got a billet at Stellenbosch, a bowery village deep down in the Cape Colony, where was established our base camp of supplies. The 123 War's Brighter Side name therefore attained a deep significance and common usage in the army, and to say that a man had been '' Stellenbosched " was but the ordinary poHte mode of mentioning what might otherwise have had to be said in many harsher- sounding words. THE FRIEND. {Edited by the War Correspondents with Lord Roberts^ Force.) BLOEMFONTEIN, FRIDAY, MARCH 23, I900. PROCLAMATION Whereas it is cons-iderd necessary in the in- terests of the Orange Free State, and until arrange- ments may be made, that the provisions of the Cus- toms Convention existing between the said State and the Colony of the Cape of Good Hope, and the Colony of Natal, shall be duly observed, and the Laws and Regulations appertaining thereto shall be enforced as soon as communication between the said Colonies and such portions of the Orange Free State as have been or may hereafter be occupied by Her Majesty's troops is restored, and the customary commercial relations are resumed ; and whereas it is expedient that the necessary officers for the control and management of the Customs Department of the Orange Free State shall be appointed. Now THEREFORE I, Frederick Sleigh Baron Roberts of KiiANDAHAR. K.P., G.C.B., G.C.S.L, G.C.LE., V.C, 124 Rudyard Kipling, Associate Editor Field Marshal, Commandlng-in-Chief of the British Forces in South Africa, do hereby nominate and appoint the following officers, to wit : — Collector of Customs — ^Johannes Henricus Meir- ing. First Clerk — Albert C. Woodward. Second Clerk — Frederik Blignaut. A WARNING TO NATIVES EXEMPLARY SENTENCES It is evident from the sentences inflicted by the Provost Marshal that the military authorities are wisely determined to repress all forms of lawlessness and unruliness on the part of native boys with a firm hand. Take the following three cases by way of illustration : — No. I. Boy: 28 lashes for resisting Military Police in discharge of their duty while arresting him. No. 2. Two Boys : 25 lashes each for being drunk and fighting. No. 3. 27 Boys : 5 lashes each for being dis- orderly and having no pass after 9 o'clock. At the conclusion of the above cases of the day the Provost Marshal called the native police before him and complimented them on the good work they had done. When the British entered Bloemfontein there was general rejoicing in the native " location," but it is impossible to insist too plainly that the clemency 125 War's Brighter Side of British rule will not extend to violent, drunken, and disorderly persons, whether they be white or black. ARMY ORDERS— SOUTH AFRICA Army Headquarters, Government House, Bloemfontein, March 20, 1900. I. Death of Commander-in-Chief in India. It is with deep regret that the Field Marshal, Commanding-in- Chief, announces to the Army in South Africa the death of His Excellency Sir W. S. A. Lockhart, G.C.B., K.C.S.L, Commander-in- Chief in India, which occurred at Calcutta on the evening of the i8th of March, 1900. Lord Roberts is sure that his own feelings will be shared by every Officer and Soldier who has served under Sir William Lockhart's command, and more particularly by those who have been personally acquainted with him. After a long and varied Military career, which began in Abyssinia, time of the Mutiny, and which included war service in Acheen, Afghanistan, Burma, The Black Mountain, Wazeristan, Isazai, and finally the command of the Terah Expeditionary Force, Sir William Lockhart was appointed to the Chief Command in India. Ppssessed of exceptional abil- ity, he distinguished himself alike as a Staflf Officer and as a commander in the field, and by his uniform kindness and consideration he endeared himself to all who came in contact with him. In the late Com- 126 Rudyard Kipling, Associate Editor mander-in-Chief the Soldiers in India, both British and Native, have lost a friend whose only thought was to further their interests and promote their wel- fare, and the Indian Empire has lost a trusted Coun- cillor who, on account of his intimate knowledge of the Native races, and his acquaintance with Eastern affairs, cannot soon or easily be replaced. 2. Amendment. With reference to Army Order No. 5 (b) of 4th March, for Captain R. H. Hall read Captain R. H. Hare. 3. Telegrams. The Field Marshal Commanding-in-Chief has great pleasure in publishing the following telegram which has been received : — From Sirdar Khan, Bahadur Casim, Haji Ma- homed Khansahib, Kazi Mahommed Ali Murshaj. Bombay Mahomedans offer your Lordship, your gallant Officers and Soldiers hearty congratulations on brilliant success Transvaal, and pray Almighty crown efforts greater success and honours. By order, W. Kelly, M. General, D. A. General. THE WEARY TREK Trek, trek, trek, On the wild South African veldt. With anthills here and anthills there And holes and ruts, you're inclined to swear, 10 127 War's Brighter Side For your mokes will religiously take you o'er These impediments by the score, But you trek, trek, trek. Trek, trek, trek. With a heart as heavy as lead, For the comrades who have bit the dust Whilst fighting for a cause that's just, With bootless feet and clothing torn, From chilly night to dewy morn You trek, trek, trek. Trek, trek, trek. There's nothing to do but trek. While your mules half starved and done to death, And yourself ditto and out of breath. You wish to Heaven the war was o'er And you say sweet ( ?) things of the cunning Boer, But you trek, trek, trek. GO TO STELLENBOSCH ! ! To the Editors of " The Friend," Sirs : — In the course of a lengthy experience I have heard many quaint conceits and many hard swear words, and have kept a small notebook in which I have jotted down anything especially new. I was the unwill- ing auditor the other day of a quarrel between two individuals whose rank and profession shall be nameless. The conversation became very ani- mated, and finally one exclaimed with savage 128 Rudyard Kipling, Associate Editor irony, " Oh, go to Stellenbosch ! " Fortunately some passers-by interrupted the fracas or else I verily believe blows would have been exchanged. Now you, sirs, with your opportunities of know- ing many lands and varied languages, may perhaps be able to inform me where this place is and why the request to go there should have caused such fury and such agitation on the part of the individual addressed. It will be a relief to the consciences of Her Majesty's lieges if the time-honoured " D " can be relegated to the limbo of forgotten oaths in favour of such an apparently innocent ex- pression. I write in all innocence, as no man likes to use a phrase, especially such a potent one, with- out understanding its meaning. — Faithfully yours, Chiriogicus. [We believe that the place mentioned was located somewhere in the Arctic Regions by the Jackson expedition. — Eds.] 129 CHAPTER VIII Lord Roberts's Headquarters Like a beehive for industry when Rudyard Kipling went to lunch with the Field-Marshal Rudyard Kipling was paying visits and getting acquainted with the local situation. He had left his wife and family at the far-famed Mount Nelson Hotel — the " Helot's Rest," as a statesman had called it — with its strange assem- bly of Rand and Kimberley millionaires, and other refugees from the two republics, its army of^cers, both of the invalid and the idle class, its censors, war correspondents, sightseers, and ladies longing to get to the more exciting front. I first saw Mr. Kipling there, and now found him tenanting a bedroom across the passage from my own in the Free State Hotel at Bloemfontein. When I went to shake his hand he was in the room of W. B. Wollen, the artist, and one of those men who having nothing good to say, are never content to stop there, was exclaiming, " Is it possible that I have the honour to meet the author of ' The Absent-Minded Beggar '? " 130 Lord Roberts's Headquarters "Yes," said Kipling, "I have heard that piece played on a barrel-organ, and I would shoot the man who wrote it if it would not be suicide." A man of such broad build and short neck that you do not realise him to be above the average stature, wearing a broad-brimmed, flat brown hat of Boer pattern, and below that a brown short coat and very full trousers to match; a vigorous figure, quick in movement as a pan- ther, quicker still in speech; a swinging and roll- ing figure with head up and hat well back out of the way of his sight which is ever thrown upward as if he searched the sky while he walked. His face is quite a match for his body, being round and wide as well as wide-eyed and open. His eyes are its most notable features, for they are very large and open, and each one is arched by the bushiest of black eyebrows. They are ha- bitually reflective and sober eyes, but, like a flash, they kindle with fun, and can equally quickly turn dull and stony when good occasion arises. It is not the typical poet's or scholar's face so much as it is the face of the man among men, the out-of-door man, the earnest, shrewd observer and the impressible hard worker. It happened that both of us were to pay our respects to the Field-Marshal at the Residency in the same day, and both were invited to lunch. Of course, Mr. Kipling knew Lord Roberts very 131 War's Brighter Side well — had seen much of him in India, where they had been both friends and mutual admirers. We went to the Residency together. There we met a very kindly and hospitable young gentleman who asked us who we were and offered us a visit- ors' book in which to record our signatures. To him we were presently introduced and found him to be none other than the Duke of Westminister, who, as Lord Belgrave, had at an earlier stage been with Sir Alfred Milner at the Cape. His Grace proffered us refreshment of the coveted sort, which, as we have seen, was quoted at lis. a bottle '' on a rising market," and then he con- ducted us to the great drawing-room with its strong suggestion of the grandeur of a ruler's residence, despite its garish wall-paper and its puckered-up carpet. The whole Residency was like a beehive for industry. In the dining-room privates were ham- mering away upon typewriters, and ofificers were supplying them with copy. We peeped into the large ball-room, and lo! it was appointed with many desks at which members of the illustrious and aristocratic staff of the Field-Marshal were hard at work with pens and ink. Even in the drawing-room, the merely ornamental desks and tables were strewn with documents at which far from merely ornamental lords were writing. When lunch was announced we found the 132 Lord Roberts's Headquarters dining-hall set with two tables — a very long one for the staff, and a very small one at its head for Lord Roberts. Mr. Kipling sat with the Field- Marshal, while I was placed between Lord Stan- ley and Lord Herbert Scott at the big table. I was not impressed by any unlooked-for excel- lence in the simple meal with which we were served. I had lived better on the open veldt whenever I had been able to get at my Cape cart, and the boxes I had stored in it. But the flow of wit and the hospitality and courtesy that were shown to me would have rendered worse fare beyond reproach. After the meal Lord Stanley introduced me to the Field-Marshal, and my very first words caused those who do not know how great and broad a man he is, to think that I had offended Lord Roberts. " I am very proud to know you, General," I said. We talked for a few moments of trifling things, merely by way of making acquaintance. " You called him 'General ' ; you should have said * Sir,' or ' Lord Roberts,' " said those who were concerned about the episode. " The highest rank and title in the American Army is 'General,'" said I; "and in that way Washington, Grant, and all our leaders were saluted. Lord Roberts spoke of my being an 133 War's Brighter Side American. I am sure he understands how I came to make a mistake, while, at the same time, pay- ing him the highest respect." Our newspaper showed that we were getting on rapidly with the new forces of administration — the outcome, first, of Lord Roberts's brain, and, next, of the extraordinary industry at the Residency. That most skilful of military rail- way engineers, Colonel E. P. C. Girouard, who, while head of the Egyptian Railways was also restoring our wrecked lines and manning them efficiently, announced in our 6th number (March 23rd), that the daily train to the south would leave at 7 a.m., and the train from the south would arrive at twenty-six minutes after mid- night each day. The Gordon Club opposite the Cathedral was to be reopened next day. The Wesleyan Church announced a parade service for the coming Sun- day. The Presbyterian Church announced its meetings for the week. Services at the English Cathedral were also advertised. The Army Sports began on this date. Major Lorimer, of the Cape Police, came with a trooper and some despatch riders and was taken on the strength. C. V. F. Townshend, A.A.G. to the Military Governor, grappled with the negro problem in a warning notice that all natives must be indoors by eight o'clock p.m. unless possessed of a special 134 Lord Roberts's Headquarters permit, and that dancing and drunkenness in the streets would meet with severe punishment. We published a very informing and authori- tative editorial upon martial law, which one of the editors was at some pains to secure. I have a strong idea that it was written either by Gen- eral Pretyman or Major Poore, but I have no means for making certain. James Barnes, the distinguished American correspondent, who very kindly and with able results, took my place as correspondent of the Daily Mail when I was invalided home, wrote for this number a comparison between this and some recent American wars. We led the paper with the full text of Mr. Kipling's poem, only one verse of which had reached us a week before. THE FRIEND. BLOEMFONTEIN, MARCH 23, I900. POEM BY RUDYARD KIPLING (Owing to the exigencies of war, we were unable at the time to print more than one stanza of Mr. Kip- ling's poem, which we now present in its entirety.) Oh, Terence, dear, and did ye hear The news that's going round? The Shamrock's Erin's badge by law Where'er her sons are found ! 135 War's Brighter Side From Bobsfontein to Ballyhack Tis ordered by the Queen — We've won our right in open fight, The Wearin' of the Green ! We sailed upon commando To vierneuk our Brother Boer — A landlord and a Protestant, What could the bhoys want more? But Redmond cursed and Dillon wept, And swore 'twas shame and sin ; So we went out and commandeered The Green they dared not win. 'Twas past the wit of man, they said, Our North and South to join — Not all Tugela's blood could flood The black and bitter Boyne; But Bobs arranged a miracle (He does it now and then), For he'll be Duke of Orange, sure, So we'll be Orange men ! Take hold ! The Green's above the red. But deep in blood 'tis dyed, We plucked it under Mauser-fire Along the trenched hill-side : Talana's rush, the siege, the drift, The Fight of Fourteen Days, Bring back what's more than England's rose And dearer than her praise ! •36 Lord Roberts's Headquarters God heal our women's breaking hearts In Ireland far away ! An' Mary tell the news to those That fell before this day — Dear careless bhoys that laughed and died By kopje and fontein — Our dead that won the living prize — The Wearin' of the Green ! RuDYARD Kipling. [Copyright in England and the U. S. A.] MILITARY LAW (Editorial) In times like the present when military matters are discussed by all classes of society, both by sol- diers and civilians, the question of the law, by which discipHne and law, not only among the troops, but also the civil population in the country they occupy are maintained, frequently arises, and the terms " Martial Law " and " Military Law " are often made use of as if they meant the same thing. It is to explain this that the following is written. " Military Law " is the Law which governs the soldier in peace and in war, at home and abroad. It is administered under the Army Act which is part of the Statute Law of England, and which, by special provision, must be brought into, and continue in force, by an annual Act of Parliament. With an army in the field, certain persons, not 137 War's Brighter Side soldiers, are also subject to the provisions of " Mili- tary Law," such as civilians serving with the force in an official capacity; persons accompanying the troops with special leave, such as newspaper cor- respondents and contractors ; persons employed with the troops, such as transport drivers ; other persons known as followers who accompany the troops either as sutlers or on business or pleasure with the permission of the commander, " Martial Law," on the other hand, is only opera- tive in war. It is in fact no law at all, and has been accurately defined as the " will of the conqueror." The expression " Customs of War " would perhaps better define what is meant by " Martial Law," be- cause the word Law conveys the idea to most people of an enactment containing a fixed and rigid rule which must be obeyed, and which, if disobeyed, will involve punishment. This " Law " or " Custom " is applicable to all persons and inhabitants not subject to ''Military Law " residing within the foreign country or that portion of it occupied by the troops, and also within districts under British rule abroad, which, in con- sequence of riot or rebellion, are so declared to be subject to " Martial Law " by proclamation. It will thus be seen that a commander of troops in time of war acts in two distinct capacities. First, he governs the troops by " Military Law " only ; secondly, in his position of governor of the country he occupies, he imposes such laws or rules on the inhabitants as in his opinion are necessary to secure 138 Lord Roberts's Headquarters the safety of his army, and also the good govern- ment of the district which, by reason of the war or rebeUion, may for the time have been deprived of its ordinary rulers and the machinery for maintain- ing order. For the purpose of administering " Martial Law " or the *' Customs of War " no rules or regu- lations are absolutely laid down, but certain customs exist among civilised nations which are generally recognised. At the present time the practice in force is that, when practicable, " Martial Law " should only sup- plement the civil procedure, but when the civil Government is absent or, in consequence of war, is paralysed, " Martial Law " must of necessity re- place the civil. In administering '' Martial Law " by a Military Court the ordinary procedure recognised by Mili- tary Law " is followed. This is done because the Military Court would be composed of military offi- cers whose training would make them conversant with such procedure, and because some uniformity in administering justice would thus be ensured. FACTS AND OTHERWISE We wish to draw the attention of the troops of all ranks to the benefits which the use of the Public Free Library offers. A Branch of the Standard Bank is being opened 139 War's Brighter Side in Colonnade Buildings under the direction of Mr. M. D. Savory, late Manager of the Oudtshoorn Branch. The Powerfurs contingent of the Naval Brigade, consisting of twenty-nine men and four officers, left by yesterday's train for Capetown. Mr. Midship- man Lewin, who is in command, has the honour of carrying despatches. The great want of Bloemfontein just now is some place of light recreation and refreshment to which weary soldiers and civilians can repair after the labour of the day is ended. It is premature, of course, to expect anything so pretentious as the Alhambra or Tivoli of London fame, but the re- sources of the capital of the Orange Free State should be at least equal to the provision and equip- ment of a hall where songs and various forms of light entertainment might be presented nightly. Al- ready there is talk of an enterprising agent pro- ceeding to Capetown with the object of retaining the necessary artistes, who may be expected here as soon as the railway communication is open to the. general public; but for present purposes there is sufficient talent amongst our soldiers and sailors and the townspeople to tide over the emergency. A committee of amusement with a good man as chairman is required, and the rest, with the per- mission of the military authorities, should be toler- able easy. The drums and pipes of the Highland regiments continue to do valiant service in the market square, but the time is surely come when 140 Lord Roberts's Headquarters entertainment on a more ambitious programme might be contemplated. THE PROMOTION OF BINKS " Know Binks ? Of course. Everybody does — local major, staff something at Headquarters of loth Division — devilish useful chap to know." Yes, Major Binks; but three short months ago I was only young Binks of the Buffers, arriving at Blankfontein to take charge of a Transport Com- pany ; I had no experience, and no instructions, ex- cept to " lick 'em into shape," and I felt like the title of a book, " Alone in South Africa." Not quite alone after all, for I had Wopples with me ; Wopples being the servant my old uncle, Major Stodger, had found for me. *' He'll kill your horses, of course, and lose your kit, but he was our mess corporal in the Blazers for fourteen years, and he'll pull you through." After asking many questions and getting no an- swers, I found a seething mass of mules, waggons, and blacks, which turned out to be my company, and in the midst of it was a person of evidently some importance, who turned out to be the con- ductor. His natural perimeter was nearly doubled by the packets of papers which bulged from every pocket, and he was addressing the crowd in a variety of bad languages when I introduced myself, not without trepidation, as his new C."C."0. His smile 141 War's Brighter Side was reassuring and patronising. " Oh, that'll be all right, sir; we're getting along nicely — but the Major's coming round to-morrow — commands the station, he does — and wastes a lot of time. Now, if you could offer him a bit of breakfast " Next morning the Major rode up; he was a melancholy-looking man with an absent manner. Before I could introduce the subject he said he would not interrupt me if I were having breakfast ; I begged him to join me, but he said he never could eat at that hour, but he might as well come in — per- haps he might manage a cup of tea. He managed one cup, and then another, after which he brightened up a lot and managed porridge, fried liver, curried mutton, and half a tin of jam. After one of my cigars (also selected by uncle) he rode away, re- marking that he was glad to find they'd sent up somebody at last who had a grasp of things — he felt he could rely on me. Next day I was appointed his assistant. When I reported myself he said he wanted somebody whom he could leave in the office in case he had to go out — there was no other definite job for me just then ; meanwhile I might as well look after the mess. I did so, or rather Wopples did so. One evening the Major seemed somewhat upset, " Look here, Binks, the Brigadier is coming round to-morrow to discuss a defence scheme; he's in- clined to fuss a lot; I've got to go out myself on duty, but you'd better stay in and have a lot of breakfast ready; I think you might almost run to 142 Lord Roberts's Headquarters a tin of sausages." Next morning the Brigadier rode up all alone at full gallop, scrambled off his horse, and began to shout, '' Come along, come along; mustn't waste time on active service; got fifty things to settle to-day ! Here's my brigade on this side of the river — now tell me at once where every man on the other side is posted " — here he fell over Wopples. '' Who the deuce ! — what, breakfast, eh? Well, well, must eat, even on service. I can spare five minutes. Come along." He rushed into my tent and spared five minutes. The five minutes prolonged themselves to ten minutes, then to an hour and a quarter, after which the Brigadier slept so sweetly that I had no heart to waken him. About 3 o'clock he woke with a sort of explosion, shouted for his horse, and galloped off talking as hard as ever. Next morning I was appointed his extra A.D.C. with rank of Captain. '' There'll be a lot of work for you later on," the Brigade-Major said, " but no bustle just now; meanwhile you might look after the mess." Again we did so. I was left in camp one day when the Brigade had gone out to do some- thing — " Somebody must be left in charge, and, by the by, have a bit of something ready in case we come back hungry." I was reading the advertise- ment sheets of a paper six weeks old when Wopples rushed in. " Lord Upington, sir, staff boss at Divisional Headquarters, just a'comin' up the road ! Wot a chance it is ! Why, if he don't know what good living means — well, Fm a Boer ! '* " 143 War's Brighter Side Wopples was too mucb of an artist to overdo things — there was just a taste of porridge — not enough to spoil one's appetite, a partridge with full complements of bread-sauce and red pepper, mar- row-bones with hot toast and a nip of whisky, black cofifee and cigars; where it had all sprung from goodness only knows. When his lordship departed he said he would not forget me; his heart and other organs were so full that he quite forgot to mention the pressing business on which he had come. Next morning I was appointed signalling officer to the Division. I had never done a signalling class, and pointed this out to the D.A.G., but he said it didn't matter, what they wanted was a really useful man to supervise generally the signalling business. Of course, just at present there was no signalling as we were on a wire ; meanwhile I might take over the mess. Before the words were out of his mouth Wopples had taken the mess over; he had sacked two black cooks, discarded the mess pots in favour of his own, taken the measures of the mess stores, and was getting on with lunch. By that even- ing my position as an ornament to the staff was secure. It was at something drift that we gave our first official dinner; we had secured a roomy farmhouse with some bits of furniture, so, relying on Wop- ples, we launched into hospitality. And Wopples had surpassed himself. There was a haunch of venison which brought tears of joy to the five 144 Lord Roberts's Headquarters eyes of the three generals who partook of it — no mere common haunch, there were several such in camp that night — this was a haunch that had been through the hands of Wopples. Then there was his extra special entree — but that is another course. It was a dinner that might be eaten, but could never be described. Next day I was gently approached by many red tabs. The Provost-Marshal said I was just the sort of chap for his department if I'd care to come; a R.E. enthusiast told me that a balloon was the only place for a real good view of a show and " he'd work the matter for me " ; somebody on the intel- ligence said there was a real well-paid billet he'd been keeping open on purpose for me ; and two of the generals declared piteously that they could not get on without my services. The third general had not recovered the dinner, but sent a grinning A.D.C. to represent him. After that his lordship shut me and Wopples up together in his own room and kept guard outside himself. " We'll take care of you, Binks ; we'll get you made a local major, and you shall ride the general's horse as you've lost all your own. I'll find you a Tommy's blanket, by Jove I will! and demme, I'll give you my own second shirt ; but I'll be shot if you leave our camp, my boy — shot and starved ! " Anonymous. 145 War's Brighter Side SOLDIERS^ BATTLES AND GENERALS* CAMPAIGNS BY JAMES BARNES The writer, an American, who served during the Cuban war, has been asked to compare the present heated argument with the late unpleasantness in the Antilles. It is rather difficult to draw any comparisons between this war in South Africa and the late con- flict in Cuba. It is like comparing two games differing in rules and methods, and resembling one another only in the fact that they are played with bat and ball. One of the strange things about the war in the West Indies was this — when it was over the world waited for the lesson, and there was none in the proper sense of the word. The God of battles must have been with America from start to finish ; ours was the good fortune; we had all the luck. It was a series of miracles. Naval men waited to see the great things torpedo-boats would accomplish, and two of the much-dreaded machines were sunk by a millionaire's pleasure-craft transformed into a gun- boat. Vessels with armoured belts and protective decks were set on fire in the old-fashioned way by exploding shells igniting their wood-work. Dewey's victory at Manila was accomplished with- out loss of life on the A^merican side, and Sampson's victory at Santiago was almost as wonderful — but one man killed and a few slightly wounded. 146 Lord Roberts's Headquarters Army experts waited for the results of the use of long-range magazine rifles, smokeless powder, and high explosives, yet trenches and hills defended by men with Mausers were stormed and taken by men with Krag-Jorgensens in their hands in the old- fashioned way — a steady advance and a rushing charge to clinch it. Caney and San Juan Hill were old-fashioned fights with the exception of the fact that men were killed miles in the rear by the straying droves of bullets and never saw an enemy. As in this war the losses did not compare to those of some hand-to-hand conflicts of the Rebel- lion, and many wounds that in the old days would have proved fatal, thanks to the merciful Mauser, amounted to very little. Perhaps to offer explana- tion of some strange occurrences of the Cuban war would be disparaging to the Spaniards. Perhaps the least that can be said is that in the main the Dons were shocking poor shots, and they had been so weakened by disease and hunger that they had not much fight left in them when it came to cold steel and clubbed muskets. The great losses in Cuba were from fevers, not from bullets. It is in the con- ditions and environments that the chief difference lies between the war here and the war over there. And it is from this present conflict that the world will learn. The Philippine war, costly as it was in life and money, was nothing but a series of victories over a half-civilised enemy. But interest in it in America, strange to say, dwindled to little or noth- ing after the first gunshot in South Africa. 147 War's Brighter Side Here was a different state of affairs. Cuba (for Puerto Rico was a " walk over ") was a country full of dense forests and tangled undergrowth, offering a screen as well as a hindrance to the movements of an army. South Africa is the greatest defensive country in the world, and the Boer is trained by nature and inheritance to make the best of it. Yet it took time to teach some of the English military leaders to adapt themselves to the new conditions — it was hard for them to break away from the tradi- tions of Waterloo and Badajos. The Mauser began to correct the old ideas of warfare in a way that it had failed to do in Cuba. The prophecies in Bloch's remarkable book were fulfilled almost to the letter. Proper scouting in an open country is a dead de- partment of military service. How long did we lie at Modder River without knowing anything of value of the movements of the enemy? A series of kopjes might conceal a few sharpshooters or an army — at a mile's distance scouts were under the fire of an invisible foe. A good shot ensconced between sheltering rocks discounted four men ad- vancing in the open. In Cuba the American troops were harassed by marksmen concealed in tree-tops who often fired upon them from the rear, but the forces opposed to them in front were mostly in- fantry, and the problem resolved itself into a contest between individual soldiers as fighting units. It was a soldiers' conflict. A war in a country such as we have been fighting over for the last five months admits of one thing 148 Lord Roberts's Headquarters only — the strategic movements of a military genius. The generalship of a great leader is a necessity. Bravery is well-nigh wasted and courage almost discounted. Mobility of force is essential, forces operating at great distances but under one central head are a sine qua non, and in long-range artillery lies the preponderancy of power. More and more does the great game approximate the moves in a chess problem. It must be admitted that in Cuba there were no such scientific movements, and it has taken the march of Lord Roberts from Enslin to Bloemfontein to prove the fact beyond question that soldiers' battles, where one side is entrenched and invisible and the other advancing in attack, are things of the past, except in a wooded country or where all preliminary movements are concealed. We had soldiers' battles here, but by fighting them the lesson has been taught from which the world will learn. AN OFFICIAL DINNER AT GOVERNMENT HOUSE On Tuesday, March 20th, Lord Roberts enter- tained the following Military Attaches, accredited by the Great Powers to his stafif, at dinner at Govern- ment House: Colonel Stakovitch, Russia; Commandant d'Amadi, France; Major Esteben, Spain; Captain Baron V. Luttwitz, Germany; Captain Slocum, America; Captain Hieroka, Japan. 149 War's Brighter Side There were also invited the following to meet the distinguished guests : Lieut. General Sir H. Colvile, Lieut. General Kelly-Kenny, Major General Sir W. Nicholson, Major General Pretyman, Major General Wood, Major General Marshall, Major General Pole-Carew, Major General Gorden, The Very Revd. Dean of Bloemfontein, the Hon'ble Mr. J. G. Fraser; the Private Secretary; the Military Secre- tary; Major General Kelly, Colonel Richardson, Mr. Justice Hopley, Colonel Stevenson, Colonel Vis- count Downe, Lieut. Colonel Otter, Captain Bear- croft, Lieut. Colonel Ricardo, Colonel H. C. Chol- mondeley. Colonel Lord Stanley, Reverend H. J. Coney, Lieut. Colonel Byron, A.D.C., Captain Lord Herbert Scott, A.D.C. After the Queen's health had been drunk, Lord Roberts, in a happy little speech in which he pro- posed the health of the foreign Attaches, said that he had much regretted while in Capetown not having been able to entertain the Attaches, but now he felt some satisfaction at not having been able to do it, as he was able to entertain them as comrades, while at Capetown they would only have been representatives of foreign Powers. He had often been distressed at seeing the Attaches undergoing many discomforts on the march. But it had shown him that they were officers devoted to their duty, and regardless of all discomforts. He had not heard complaint or mur- mur of discontent at their want of comfort, in fact, the only complaint made was one to Lord Downe in which Attaches represented to him that he, with a 150 Lord Roberts's Headquarters regard for their personal safety, had not allowed them to go as close as they could wish to the passing line. It had been a great pleasure to see them there that night, and he hoped before long to be able to entertain them again in Pretoria. Colonel Stakovitch, the Russian Attache, replied, saying how pleasant it had been for him and his comrades to accompany the British Army on their great and successful march. He thanked the Field Marshal for his kindness and courtesy to them, and wound up by proposing the health of Lord Roberts and his army, to which Lord Roberts made a suit- able reply. The band of the Buflfs played a selection of music during dinner. The Austrian Attache was unavoidably absent, having left on a short visit to Capetown. 51 CHAPTER IX ''Oh, How Good it Was!" All Ranks join our Corps of Contributors, and the Paper Sparkles Generals, colonels, majors, captains, subal- terns, privates, war correspondents who had not connected themselves with our venture, naval officers — all ranks and all sorts, suddenly rushed to our support, in consequence of my wail for help, and The Friend took on an interest greater, I truly think, than that of any newspaper then published in the language. Its circulation rose among the thousands where the largest daily distribution had been only 400 copies before the war. We numbered the paper of March 24th " No. 6," though it was in reality the eighth copy we had published, six being the number since we had enlarged it to its final size. I marvel at our success as I look back upon this number. Sir William Nicholson, K.C.B., wrote an ap- preciation of the character, life, and work of the 152 "Oh, How Good it Was!" late Sir William Lockhart; General Sir Henry E. Colvile sent us a double acrostic, which the Dutch ones among our eccentric compositors ruined so far beyond repair that it would not be just to reproduce its mangled remains; Mr. Lionel James, who had come over from the Natal side to further distinguish the staff of the Times, wrote upon the death of our gifted colleague, George W. Steevens. Rudyard Kipling con- tributed to this number the first of his delicious ''Fables for the Staff"; a distinguished officer who shall remain nameless in this connection, contributed an article on " Beards in War "; and Mr. Gwynne began a series of letters entitled " Is the Art of War Revolutionised? " written solely to interest the Army and spur its thinking men to respond. Mr. H. Prevost Battersby, of the London Morning Post, was another distinguished con- tributor to this number. Mr. Kipling now became a regular harnessed member of the four-in-hand team that pulled the paper. With pen in hand and pipe in mouth he sat at the larger of the two tables in our editorial pokehole, and beginning with a " Now, what shall I do? Write a poem, or a fable, or correct proofs? " would fall to and toil away with an enthusiasm born of the long time it had been since he had '' smelled the sawdust of the ring." 153 War's Brighter Side " Oh, how good it is to be at work in a news- paper office again!" he exclaimed on the first day, doubtless with recollections of the sanctum of the Allahabad Pioneer strong upon him, and the memory of the time when the precursors of the '' Plain Tales " and of the Barrack Room Ballads were demanded of him almost every day, and gave him the practice to produce the care- fully finished and matured work we are now see- ing in the novel '' Kim," at which he was at work — in the laboratory of his mind — even as he sat with us in Bloemfontein. We wondered at his enthusiasm, and, per- haps, had it not been of his doing, we should have resented the impetus it gave us to toil as never war correspondents worked before — all day for The Friend and far into the nights to catch the mails with our home correspondence. But we soon came to see that the same tremen- dous energy and ceaseless flow of wit and fancy were his by nature, and would have found ex- pression as well in a tent on the veldt as in that office. He was always while with us like a great healthy boy in spirits and vitality, good humour, and enterprise. With us he yelled " Haven't any; go to Bar- low's shop around the corner," to the Tommies who trod on one another's heels to get copies of the paper from us who had not got them. With 154 "Oh, How Good it Was!" US he consigned the Dutch compositor to eons of boiling torment for the trouble his errors gave us. With us he entertained Lord Stanley, who now came, out of kindness, at noon every day, to save us the trouble of sending our proof-sheets over to him at his office. And from us he insisted upon taking all the '' Tommy poetry," as we called it, that came to the office. When we de- rided much of it as outrageous twaddle, he praised its quality. On this day, I remember, we were beUttling a particular poem that he was reading, and he called out, '' Why, that is splen- did stuff! Listen to these lines — ' Rule Britan- nia, Britannia rules the waves: Britons never, never, never shall be slaves! ' " The reader will find this particular poem in the paper — put there by our distinguished poetry editor. THE FRIEND. SATURDAY, MARCH 24, I90O. FABLES FOR THE STAFF ^ King Log and King Stork by rudyard kipling I Certain Boers, having blown up a Bridge, de- parted in the Face of the British Army, which, ar- ^ Copyrighted in England and America; used here by Mr. Kipling's leave. War's Brighter Side riving at that dynamited Place, made Outcry to the Gods, saying, '' Oh, Jupiter, these Ruffians have blocked the Traffic, and we are vastly incommoded. Is there Anything worse than the Boer ? " This being reported to the Railway Authorities, they caused a Railway Staff Officer to be sent to that Bridge with Instructions to facilitate Matters by all means in his Power. Later on They picked up What was left of the British Army in those parts — one dusty Shovelful, and its Lamentations were louder than before. '' Ungrateful Wretches," said the Military Au- thorities ; *' what would you now have ? " And the Remnant of the British with one Accord answered, " Give us back the Boer ! " COMMANDEERING ' Our hero was a Tommy, with a conscience free from care. And such an open countenance that when he breathed the air He used up all the atmosphere — so little went to spare. You could hardly say he breathed, — he commandeered it. For, nowadays, you'll notice when a man is " on the make," And other people's property is anxious for to take, 156 "Oh, How Good it Was!" We never use such words as steal, or " collar," " pinch," or " shake." The fashion is to say he " com- mandeers " it. And our simple-minded hero used to grumble at his lot. Said he, " This commandeerin's just a little bit too hot. A fellow has to carry every bloom- ing thing he's got, For whatever he lets fall they'll commandeer it." So, at last in desperation, this most simple-minded elf. He thought he'd do a little com- mandeering for himself ; And the first thing that he noticed was a bottle on a shelf In a cottage, so he thought he'd commandeer it. " What ho ! " says he, " a bottle ! and, by George, it's full of beer ! And there's no commandin' officer to come and interfere. So here's my bloomin' health," says he ; " I'm on the commandeer.'* And without another word he com- mandeered it. Anonymous. 157 War's Brighter Side SIR WILLIAM LOCKHART BY SIR WILLIAM NICHOLSON, K.C.B. Sir William Lockhart's death, as recently an- nounced in Army Orders, will be deeply deplored by his many friends in the Army in South Africa. It was known that he had been seriously ill last September, but he had seemingly recovered when he visited Burma in December. On his return to Calcutta in January, symptoms developed them- selves which caused great anxiety, and, although he telegraphed to the effect that he hoped soon to be all right again, the end was not far distant. Apart from his ability as a soldier and adminis- trator, Sir William Lockhart endeared himself to all who had the privilege of his personal acquaintance by his charming manners, his genial hospitality and his kindness of heart. Born in 1842, he joined the Indian Army in 1858, and during the Mutiny he was attached to the 7th Fusiliers. He afterwards served with' the 26th Punjab Infantry, the loth Bengal Lancers, and the 14th Bengal Lancers. He was employed on the Staff in the Abyssinian Ex- pedition. When the Acheen War broke out he was attached to the Headquarters of the Dutch Force, where he made himself extremely popular. It was interesting to hear him describe the Dutch method of fighting, which, as might be imagined, led to no decisive result. The climate being tropical, the Dutch would 158 "Oh, How Good it Was!" only attack the enemy in the early morning; the rest of the day being spent in camp. The enemy were more active, and caused the Dutch much an- noyance by frequently disturbing their afternoon siesta. As no means of transport were asked for or provided, the campaign was of a purely defensive nature, and at the end of it things were virtually in the same state as at the beginning. After remaining in Acheen about eighteen months, Lockhart returned to India, where he joined the Quartermaster-General's Department, and at the beginning of the Afghan War he was chosen to take charge of the line of communica- tions up the Khyber. He afterwards joined Lord Roberts' Staff as Assistant Quartermaster-General at Kabul, and for a short time acted as Chief of the Staff on Charles MacGregor being selected for the command of a brigade. In that capacity he had hoped to accompany his illustrious Chief in the march from Kabul to Kandahar, but General Chap- man being his senior on the staff, it was decided, much to Lockhart's disappointment, that he should return to India as Chief of the Staff with the troops under Sir Donald Stewart's command. He received a C.B. and brevet Colonelcy for his services in Afghanistan, and was afterwards ap- pointed Deputy Quartermaster-General for Intelli- gence at Army Headquarters, where he remained until 1886, when Lord Roberts became Commander- in-Chief in India in succession to Sir Donald Stew- art. He was then sent on an exploring expedition 12 159 War's Brighter Side with the late Colonel Woodthorpe, R.E., to Chitral and Kafiristan, and the admirable report which he drew up was of the greatest value to the Government of India in considering what steps should be taken to guard the northern passes between the Pamirs and the Peshawar Valley. On his return to India, Lockhart was ofifered the Quartermaster- Generalship in that country, but he preferred the command of a Brigade in Burma, where he greatly distinguished himself by his activity in pursuit of Dacoits. His health, however, was undermined by continual attacks of fever, and he had to be invalided home, where, after a short interval, he became Assistant Military Secretary for India at the Horse Guards. After holding this post for a couple of years, he accepted the command of the Punjab Frontier Force, which was ofifered him by Lord Roberts, and in that capacity he commanded a brigade in the Black Mountain Expedition under the late Sir W. K. Elles, and held the chief command in the Waziri- stan and Isazai Expeditions. No abler or more sympathetic general ever commanded the Punjab Frontier Force; he was beloved alike by the British officers and the Native ranks; he main- tained the traditions of the Force and raised it to the highest standard of efficiency ; and when he left it he had good reason for regarding it, as he always did regard it, as the corps d'elite of the Indian Army. In April, 1895, the Presidential Armies were broken up and the Army Corps System was intro- 160 « Oh, How Good it Was ! " duced, Sir William Lockhart being nominated to the command of the Forces in the Punjab. In this appointment he displayed administrative talents of a high order, his main object being to decentralise re- sponsibility and authority, and to diminish office work and official correspondence. It was in a great measure due to his efforts in this direction that the new system worked so smoothly. When he became Commander-in-Chief he kept the same end in view by granting the fullest possible powers to the Lieu- tenant-Generals of the four Commands and to the General Officers commanding Districts, and by in- sisting on their making use of those powers to the fullest extent. In March, 1897, Sir William Lockhart went home, having been advised to undergo a course of treatment at Nauheim. Meanwhile, disturbances took place along the North-West Frontier, which culminated in an outbreak of the Orakzaia and Afridis, and the capture by the latter of our posts in the Khyber Pass. In September he was hurriedly recalled to India for the purpose of commanding the Tirah Expeditionary Force. This is not the place to discuss the operations in Tirah, which were much criticised at home. The fact is that the Brit- ish public had become so accustomed to almost bloodless victories over savage enemies that they failed to appreciate the extraordinary difficulties of the Afridi country, and the advantages to the defence which the possession of long-range rifles and smokeless powder confers. Moreover, there 161 War's Brighter Side are no better marksmen in the world than the Afridis, who are born soldiers, and the mobility of hardy mountaineers in their native hills necessarily exceeds that of regular troops encumbered with bag- gage and supplies. Anyhow, the result of the expedition fully justi- fied the choice of its commander. The Afridis ac- knowledged themselves to be thoroughly beaten ; and Sir William Lockhart's tact in dealing with them after they had submitted has led to the re-establish- ment of friendly relations between them and our- selves on a firmer basis than before. What their present attitude is may be judged from the fact that Yar Mahomed, the head of the Malikdin Khels, re- cently petitioned the Government of India to be allowed to raise 1,500 tribesmen for service in South Africa. On the conclusion of the Tirah campaign Sir William Lockhart took leave to England, and came out again as Commander-in-Chief in India in November, 1898. He died on the i8th of March, 1900. In him, as Lord Roberts has remarked in his Army Orders of the 20th inst., " the soldiers in India have lost a friend, and the Indian Empire a trusted counsellor who cannot soon or easily be replaced." The late Commander-in-Chief was one of the few remaining representatives of the Quartermaster- General's Department in India, and to the admirable training which that department afiforded much of his success as a soldier must be ascribed. No better 162 (( Oh, How Good it Was! school of practical instruction in Staff duties could be desired. Among its pupils may be mentioned Lord Roberts himself, Sir Charles MacGregor, Sir Herbert Stewart, Sir William Lockhart, and Sir Alfred Gaselee. Now, alas! it has been abolished, or, at least, incorporated in the Adjutant-General's Department. THE QUARTERMASTER'S YARN E. J. K. NEWMAN, LIEUT. R.N. Dear Mr. Editor, — The following lines were written by me on board the mail steamer, about two young soldiers now serving with the army : — Twas on the deck, that around our ship, from the mast to the taffrail ran, I saw alone, in a chair (not their own), a tall young girl and a man. Her hair was light and fluffy and swarthy and dark was he, And I saw the coon, one afternoon, a-spooning that girl quite free. So I spotted a Quartermaster bold as he went from the wheel to tea. And I asked that Jack, if upon that tack, the passengers went to sea. " Lord love yer honour, we often sees that, the stewards and the likes of us ; There's always couples a-spooning there, but we never makes no fuss. 163 War's Brighter Side " If you look around, you'll see, I'll be bound, each day at a quarter to three, A tall young fellow with curly hair and a girl in black, quite young and fair, That's another couple," says he. " And every night, I assure you it's right, straight up on this deck they'll come And spoon around, till it's time to go down. One night 'twas a quarter to one." " Now it suddenly struck me early one morn, this might be a serious thing. Perhaps they loves, these two little doves, and has offered them the ring. So I leaves them alone in the world of their own ; and this 'twixt you and me, I hope I shall, by each little gal, to the wedding invited be." LATER Then the Quartermaster brushed away a tear with his horny hand. The last couple now have had a row, and don't speak, I understand. *Tis not a fable, she won't sit at his table As she used to do of old ; But has taken up with a married man. At least, so I've been told. Old Salt. 164 '^Oh, How Good it Was!" THE SECOND RELIEF OF KIMBERLEY Dear Friend, — I suppose that General French and his lot think they relieved Kimberley? Well, that's all right, and in spite of his name being forrin, he's a good chap ; so, as Billy the Sailor says, let's make it so. But I should like to know where would French be now if it wasn't for Billy and the Yank? Now, you being an up-to-date paper, we thought you might like to have an account of the battle which hasn't ever yet appeared in any paper in the world, yet, as our Adjutant would say, was the most strategically important part of the whole blooming show. It was me and Billy and the Yank. Billy's a sailor — says he was leftenant in the Navy, and I really believe he might have been — he couldn't have learnt to ride so badly anywhere else, and how he faked himself through the riding test is a miracle — then his langwidge is beautiful. The Yank's a Yank ; you can tell that by his langwidge, too, and me being an old soldier (12 years in the Buffs and discharge certificate all correct), I was made No. i of our section ; our No. 4 was an Irishman we left behind at Orange with a broken head, all through fighting outside the Canteen. Well, when French left Modder, February 15th, we hadn't a horse among the three of us fit to carry his own skin ; so there we was left. Our troop leader said he hoped to Heaven he'd seen the last of us, but all the same he gave us a written order, 165 War's Brighter Side correct enough, to catch up the squadron as soon as possible. There wasn't much doing all day, barring a bit of cooking, but that evening we was sitting round the fire when an M.I. chap comes round and says he's heard there'd be free drinks for the Relief Force in Kimberley, and perhaps our pals was drinking 'em now. That was the first time our Billy really woke up all day. '' Free drinks," sezee ; '' that's my sailing orders." Me and the Yank didn't mind, so we sounds boot and saddle to ourselves in the dark, and off we slips without a word to nobody. My horse seemed cheered up by the day's rest, but before Fd gone half a mile I found I got the wrong horse by mistake ! and you'll hardly believe that both Billy and the Yank had made mis- takes too ! Lor', how we did laugh ! but there, there ain't no accounting for horses in the dark. We each had our own notions of the road ; the Yank swore he was tracking the big English cavalry horses ; Billy was steering Nor' Wes' by Nor' on some star or other ; and I didn't want to argufy, so I just shoves on a couple of lengths and marched on the Kimberley flashlight. We was going a fair pace too (" making six knots "), and had done near two hours, when all of a sudden we comes over a kopje right on to the top of a bivouack, fires and all. " Let's get "— " Go astern "— " Sections about " — and we did so, back behind the kopje, linked horses, and crawled up again on our hands and knees. i66 " Oh, How Good it Was ! " " First thing," says I, quoting our Adjutant, " is to kalkulate the numbers of the enemy." " Twenty thousand," says Billy, who always did reckon a bit large. " Make it hundreds," says the Yank, sneering — " and I wouldn't mind betting a pint myself that there was the best part of two dozen of 'em." " Next point," says I, " who are they? " " I bleeve they're Highlanders, after all," says Billy ; " see the way they're lowering whisky out of them bottles." " Well then," says the Yank, " you'd better ride up and say you're the General, and they'll drop the whisky and run." '* Highlanders," says I, " don't care a cuss for Boers nor Generals, but say you're the Provost Marshal and they won't stop running this side of Kimberley." " Those men, sir," says the Yank, " air not High- landers. Billy's eyes was took with them bottles and got no further. Those men don't wear leg curtains, nor even loud checked bags. They air Boers." And by Jove he was right. " Well then," says I, getting back to point three, " what's their position ? " " Straight there," says the Yank. " Mostly lying on their stummicks," says Billy. " My friends," says I, " if your Adjutant should hear you now he'd break his blighted heart. Look here, there's General French lowering free drinks in Kimberley, ain't he ? There's the British infantry at 167 War's Brighter Side Modder, ten miles back, ain't they? And there's twenty thousand Boers plunk in the middle, ain't they? That means, as Adjy would say, General French is busted. Vaultin' ambition ! Another orful disaster ! " *' My friends, we must reskew General French." " General be blowed ! " says Billy ; " let's reskew the whisky." " Well, bein' agreed on reskewin', wot's our plan of battle ? A frontal attack is always to be depre — well, something that means it's a bally error. Take 'em on the starboard quarter, then." " But the first principel of tactics is to mystify and mislead the foe." So far the Yank had been lying rather low, but now he chips in — " Say, chum, you've pegged it out straight there, and if it ain't jumping your claim, FU carry on the working." He did know a bit, the Yank did, and we'd fixed up the job in no time. He'd a bag of about a hundred loose cartridges he'd been carrying for days, and in two minutes he'd a nice hot glowing fire right down in a cleft behind the kopjy where it didn't show a bit. " Now boys," says I, taking com- mand again, " that bag of cartridges on the top of that fire will make as much musketry noise as a brigade fits of joy. We'll let them have a few real bullets bang in the middle to help out the illooshun. We're three full battalions advancing to attack, and mind you let them hear it ; not a word till the first cartridge pops off, and then all the noise you know." l68 "Oh, How Good it Was!" We extended to fifty paces. Billy said it would come more natiiral if he was the Naval Brigade, and we puts him on the right. The Yank wanted to be the " Fighting Fifth," it reminded him somehow of fighting Stonewall Jackson down South ; and the old Buffs was good enough for me, and I took the left. When we'd fixed our places up nicely and charged magazines, the Yank slips back to our fire and plunks the bag of cartridges down in the mid- dle. Then we waited what seemed like a year. " Bang ! " from the fire. " At 'em, my hearties ! " roared the Naval Bri- gade ; '' broadside fire — don't lay on the whisky — well done, Condor! " " Steady the Buffs," says I ; " volley firing with magazines — ready — fixed sights — at that fat old buster next the fire — present — Fire ! " and sooting the action to the word I let the old buster have a volley in the fattest part. The Fighting Fifth didn't make much noise, but was shooting straight enough. Those cartridges went off so quick, once they'd started, that I knew they couldn't last long, so I gives 'em one more file of my magazine and then whistles on my fingers, " Cease fire ! " — pop went the last cartridge on the fire — " Who's that silly blighter firin' after the whistle goes ? — take his name, Sergeant-Majer — Now, Buffs, fix bayonets — pre- pare to charge ! " " Avast heaving, full speed ahead and ram them ! " yells the Naval Brigade. But the Boers 169 War's Brighter Side didn't wait for that — what with the dark, and sur- prise and noise, let alone a few real bullets, they had gone for their horses and were moving hard. " Now then. Lancers ! " I holloared, '' round our left flank and pursue them to the devil ! " That was just enough to prevent them turning their heads for the first mile or so. Then our brigade reforms and went down the hill to tally up the loot. There was half a dozen cripples, none of them bad, half a dozen knee-haltered horses, a pot of stew on the fire, and half a dozen black bottles. The Fighting Fifth, who was a kind-hearted chap in his way, turned over the wounded, gave them a sup of water, and tied them up with bits of their own shirts. The Naval Brigade had sweated through everything it had on, barrin' its rifle, just out of pure excitement, and it went for the bottles like a cartload of bricks. Blessed if they weren't Dop! ^ " Never mind," says the Naval Bri- gade, " if the quality ain't up to Admiralty pattern, we'll have to issue a double ration " — and he did — so help me ! Meanwhile the Bufifs had collected the horses and picked out a nice little chestnut for my- self. After that the Brigade fell out and enjoyed itself. But we couldn't waste too much time, so after half an hour we changed saddles, packed the dop in our wallets, and hoisted the Naval Brigade on board. The whole way to Kimberley he was fighting the Condor against the combined land and sea forces of all creation — even the Yank laughed fit to burst. I * Cape brandy, also known as " Cape smoke." 170 ii Oh, How Good it Was ! " do believe Billy might have been a commander — one can't learn langwidge like that, even in the Navy, under a longish time. Well, we fetched Kimberley about reveille after falling off our horses now and then, and we gives the Sergeant-Major half a bottle to look pleasant. Up we goes before the troop leader, who looked a bit glum at his own written order, but cheered up when I hands over three spare Boer horses we'd brought along. '' If I hear any more of this damfoolishness," sezee, '' I'll hang the lot of you ; so you'd better take care that nobody knows of it." He's almost as hard as the Adjy. Well, that's why we don't say what Regiment we belong to. But just to give the devil his jew we don't see why General French gets all the telegrams from the Queen and Lord Mayors — and we ain't even had our chocolate served out yet. But this is the truth— Billy and the Yank'll both swear to it. Yours truly, Number One. IS THE ART OF WAR REVOLUTIONISED? BY H. A. GWYNNE I. — Infantry Since the days of bows and arrows the art of war has been gradually developing. The arquebus fol- lowed the silent bow, and perhaps it may be said 171 War's Brighter Side that this change was the most revolutionary change ever experienced in the history of warfare. But the arquebus could not effectively prevent the opposing forces from coming to close quarters, and therefore the strong man with a thorough knowledge of the use of the arme blanche — be it pike, sword, or spear — was the mainstay of their armies. With the suc- cessive introduction of the matchlock. Brown Bess, and the host of old muzzle-loading rifles, up to the time when the Snider rifle came into use, still the same conditions of fighting remained. By the same conditions I mean the following : — (i) The enemy, when firing at an effective range, was visible to the naked eye of his opponent. (2) Even when concealed behind cover the smoke of his rifle easily disclosed his position. (3) Neither the accuracy nor the rapidity of fire was sufficient to make an attack across open ground by a slightly superior force impossible. The introduction of the Martini-Henry com- pletely altered at least the third of these conditions, but owing to the fact that no European war of great importance was fought with Martini-Henrys, the change was not brought home to military theorists. It is true that the Turks fought the Greeks with the Martini and the Gras rifles, but the war was not serious, and the Greeks never held even their en- trenched positions with sufficient tenacity to bring home to the world the fact that an advance across the open towards an enemy under cover was becom- ing more and more impossible. 172 "Oh, How Good it Was!" But smokeless powder and the long range rifle brought with them changes which do not appear to be properly understood. In the first place, it may be laid down as an axiom of warfare that the area of efifective rifle fire (and indeed of any fire) is restricted by the areas of vision. During the present war it has become evident to those who have studied the question, that the dangerous zone of fire with modern rifles is not, as was at first supposed, within the I, GOO yards range, but within 1,500 or even 1,600 yards. To advance in the open against an enemy, even when that enemy is not under cover but simply lying on the ground, involves one of two alternatives. Either the advancing force is annihilated by the time it gets to within 500 yards of the enemy, or it is forced to He down 1,500 yards away or less and return the enemy's fire. But the latter alternative produces a state of things which has never been known in the history of war. Both the advancing and the expectant forces are put out of action. Neither can advance and, which is more serious still, neither can retire. This contingency opened up an entirely new field of tactics. The general who can, with a smaller force, succeed in putting out of action, at least for the time being, a greater force of his opponent, is more likely to win his battle. In the future, the curious sight will be seen of regiments or even brigades lying flat on the ground, doing little damage to the enemy and suffering little loss, and 173 War's Brighter Side yet being as useless to their general as if they were snoring in their barracks at home. Perhaps this is too sweeping, for their presence in front of the enemy will have the advantage of containing him, but in the open, across which an enemy has to ad- vance, a containing force of a proportion of one man to five of the enemy is quite sufficient. There- fore the use of a brigade to contain a brigade would be a waste of material. Even those of us who have followed closely and carefully all the stages of the campaign do not yet perceive the magnitude of the changes involved by the use of modern rifies, but they appear to me to be so radical that instead of describing them as fresh developments, I would prefer to give an affirmative answer to the title of this article. But there yet remains to be discussed the ques- tion of the arme blanche — the bayonet, the weapon with which our gallant army has won so many of its victories. I have heard not a few officers declare that this war will be known in history as the last war in which a British soldier carried a bayonet. But is the discarding of the bayonet to be one of the results of the use of the new rifle and the smokeless pow- der? When fighting against an enemy who does not carry it, the force which is armed with a bayonet has a tremendous moral superiority. In the present war, there have been one or two cases — one, par- ticularly, at Slingersfontein — where the Boer has made a frontal attack on a prepared position held by us. The attacks have always been made along 174 "Oh, How Good it Was!" the tops of kopjes which afforded excellent cover for a stealthy advance. The obvious way to meet such attacks was to wait until the enemy came close enough to allow the use of the bayonet, and this was done with great success at Slingersfontein. So that it may be laid down that in cases where one only of two opposing forces is armed with the bayonet, it is obviously to its advantage that the enemy should in attacking come to close quarters. It is, equally, to the manifest advantage of the defending force, if unarmed with the bayonet, to prevent, with heavy rifle fire, the enemy from being able to use the bayonet. But in my humble opin- ion, the bayonet will not be discarded for a long time. In the first place, the best tactician in the world cannot always prevent, even with modern rifles, such things as surprises, and small bodies of men might still, even under the new conditions, be able to get unperceived into close quarters with the enemy. But the greatest reason for its retention is that night attacks are still possible, and in night attacks the bayonet is undoubtedly the weapon to be used. The very mention, however, of night attacks opens up a long vista of discussion and arguments which I do not wish to raise. I am aware that there are many prominent soldiers who will have nothing to say to night attacks and con- demn them lock, stock and barrel, but they can never be eliminated from the already long list of the contingencies of warfare. Until something is mooted which will render night attacks abso- '3 175 War's Brighter Side lutely impossible, so long will the bayonet be retained. But perhaps the most radical changes effected by the use of the long range rifle will be in purely regimental organisation. A company now extends for the attack over a space of over half a mile. The ordinary complement of officers assigned to a com- pany can never hope to control the whole of it. What is the remedy ? And how are we to bring up ammunition to the firing line, or carry away our wounded from it? Can a regiment extended for the attack eight paces apart act as a regiment or in the future is the company to be the biggest infantry unit in action ? All these questions spring from the experiences of the present campaign, and it is to be hoped that they will be answered by those whose experience in the many engagements against the enemy will give value and force to their words. FROM ENSLIN TO BOBSFONTEIN BY H. PREVOST BATTERSBY Received orders at lo a.m. to proceed at once to Ram Dam and to join the main column as soon as possible. Requisitioned for transport immediately and supplied at 6 p.rn. with about four dozen small dilapidated hair trunks, misnamed mules, which looked as if they required three square meals rolled into one, and a fortnight in bed! No self-respect- 176 iC oh, How Good it Was!" ing cat would have looked at them twice, even cold on a wooden skewer ! Made a disastrous stand at 8 p.m., as we suc- ceeded in losing our way in the record time of fifteen minutes, thanks to having no guide and to a flighty and uncertain young moon, which insisted on play- ing hide and seek at the most awkward times. How- ever, we struck the wire at last, not the barbed variety fortunately, and had brief periods of com- paratively smooth going, variegated by such trifling mishaps as a broken trace, falling mule, or mule and harness so mixed up that we couldn't distinguish which was harness and which was mule and re- quiring careful sorting out ! Veldt stones were also somewhat inconvenient, as they vary in size to any- thing above or below a Pickford van. However, it was a fine night and the mules almost seemed to warm to their work, racing along in great style at fully three miles an hour on a smoothish bit of road and appreciably downhill ! What rapture to be out on the starry veldt and to have left that Enslin " News " — the transport lines — miles (five and a doubtful bit) behind us. Shortly afterwards the moon again appeared, and we pro- ceeded to negotiate a very promising nullah with gently sloping sides. Full speed ahead and up we go, but, alas ! the latter part of our programme was somewhat disarranged, like Labby's furniture at Northampton, owing to the fact that buck waggons and mule transport are not adapted to racing through a truckload of sand of uncertain depth but 177 War's Brighter Side of certain difficulty ! However, " man the wheels and shove behind " was the natural sequence of events, and when the mules ceased pulling in every direction except the right one from sheer exhaus- tion, a few judicious cracks of the sjambok, together with a few different languages, mostly bad, and up we eventually did go. A wide stretch of perfectly flat veldt lay before us, and we shortly lost both moon and wire simultane- ously. Some one suggested " follow the track " : valuable advice, but difficult to carry out, as there happened to be about fourteen of them, and all in different directions. Pleasant predicament to be in : I a.m., cloudy sky, and lost on the anything but trackless veldt ! Feel about as comfortable as the man who was going to be hanged at 8 a.m. Finally decided to proceed at right angles, and return our wrong way if necessary, and succeeded in finding that precious wire at last. Persistency is the road to success, but what about an old hen sitting on a china egg? Moon on the wane, but reached Ram Dam at 3 a.m., and all of us surprised and delighted to get there, as it would have very shortly been a case of the " light that failed ! " Ram Dam itself looks like a remarkably low Thames some- where near the Isle of Dogs, but glad to get anywhere, and ready to eat or drink anything. H. P. B. 178 "Oh, How Good it Was!" G. W. STEEVENS BY LIONEL JAMES (With an Original Verse by Rudyard Kipling ^) Through war and pestilence, red siege and fire, Silent and self-contained he drew his breath. Too brave for show of courage— his desire Truth as he saw it, even to the death. Rudyard Kipling. There is a pretty little cypress grove nestling under the shadow of one of the Ladysmith defences. A peaceful oasis — green where the land is parched and dry. It is God's acre. Before shaking the dust of Ladysmith from off my feet for ever, I turned my pony's head towards the green. The little animal seemed to know the way, and well he should, for the melancholy journey to the cemetery had been frequent during the latter period of the siege. I tied the pony to the rail and passed in under the shadow of the cypresses. The interior of the en- closure was one stretch of new-turned earth. The turf seemed all exhausted. The dainty cemetery of three months ago had now the appearance of a badly harrowed field. In places a rough cross marked the last resting-place of the victims of war and pestilence, a few had the names just scrawled upon a chip of wood ; the majority lay unnamed — the price of Empire keeping : a nameless grave ! I passed down the clay trodden pathway. The brief legends ran — Egerton, Lafone, Watson, Field, ^ Copyrighted, used here by permission. 179 War's Brighter Side Dalzel, Dick-Cunyngham, Digby Jones, Adams — but why name them? They were all men whom three months ago I had called my friends. Then I found the spot for which I searched — a plain wooden cross inscribed G. W. Steevens, and a date. What an end — six feet of Ladysmith's miserable soil ! It was too cruel. My memory carried me back to the brave companion and upright colleague who was gone, and to the manner of his death — the man who had raced with the Cameron Highlanders for Mah- moud's zareba ; who had stood with his hands in his pockets when it seemed that it must be but a matter of minutes before Wad Helu swallowed up Mac- donald's Soudanese brigade. The man who had scorned death on Elandslaagte's crest lay there a victim to pestilential Ladysmith. If the spare frame had been as stout as the heart which it contained, that miserable rat-hole could not have brought about the end. Poor Steevens — how he strove to live! For a month he lay and fought the battle for life. And then when all seemed well, and we looked for the day that we should have him back again, he quietly faded under a relapse. Doctors could do no more, and at four in the afternoon of the fatal day it was evident that the end was near. Maud, who had nursed him with a devotion unsurpassed, was deputed to break the news. He came to the bedside and suggested that Steevens should dictate a wire to his people at home. The patient looked up suddenly, and in a moment was conscious of the sinister purport of the request. i8o "Oh, How Good it Was!" The conversation which ensued was something of the following: — " Is it the end ? " Maud nodded assent. "Will it be soon?" Again Maud nodded assent. Steevens turned wearily, and remarked, " Well, it is a strange sideway out ! " Then there passed over his face an expression which plainly read, " I will not die!" He turned to Maud and said, almost gaily, " Let's have a drink," Maud opened a new bottle of champagne and poured out half a glass. Steevens sipped it, and noticing that Maud had no glass, remarked, " You are not drinking ! " He seemed better after the wine, and when the last message was dictated he was still struggling for life; but the disease had the upper hand, and he sank into unconsciousness which was never broken until he passed away in the evening. We buried him at midnight. As we took him down to the cypress grove, it seemed that the enemy paid tribute to our sorrow, for their searchlight played full upon the mournful cavalcade as it wound into the open. SHOULD BEARDS BE WORN IN WAR? Bloemfontein, March 23, 1900. Dear Sir, — A distinguished General Officer — who is also an exceedingly clever man — was issuing 181 War's Brighter Side orders on one occasion. " I have no wish," said he, " to interfere with the time-honoured custom which ordains that heroes may be dirty; but, until they become heroes, I see no reason why they should not try and look like soldiers. The troops under my command will, therefore, shave until they arrive at the actual front." This witty sentence provides me with an admi- rable text for a sermon on a subject very near my heart. Our troops have, indeed, proved themselves heroes. Whatever may be the opinion expressed now and hereafter upon many things in the conduct of this war, upon one thing there can be no dis- sentient voice — I refer to the splendid heroism of our troops. Yes, sir, they are heroes. But why, oh ! why do they not try and look like soldiers too ? Why should the erstwhile smart Guardsman, the dandy Highlander, the dapper Horseman, adopt the facial disguise of a poacher out of luck, or rather — for the beard is not a good one — of a member of the criminal classes previous to the Saturday evening's ablutions? Surely soap can be purchased, razors ground, and water heated. It is universally admitted that one of the chief duties of a soldier is to be smart in his appearance, and the fact that on active service there may be some difficulty is surely no excuse for its neglect. In all other periods of the world's history shaving was looked upon as one of the chiefest necessities in time of war. Napoleon's Old Guard shaved, as is well known, throughout the entire retreat from 182 "Oh, How Good it Was!" Moscow; there was not a hair upon the faces of Hannibal's legions the day after the famous crossing of the Alps, while Caesar's well-known order, " Ut barbas tondeant," must be familiar to every school- boy. I might come down to our own times and quote the Queen's Regulations, but I refrain from doing so lest I should be accused of priggishness. It is, I do not hesitate to say, horrible to me to see the unkempt appearance of those who might be — and are at other times — the finest-looking troops in the world. I feel inclined to say, in the words of Scripture, " Tarry ye at Jericho until (and after) your beards be grown." I hope, sir, you will forgive this somewhat lengthy letter, but the subject is, as I have said al- ready, very near my heart. No one ever has looked well in a beard, and no one ever will, and until our oflficers recognise this fact and set an example of spruceness for their men to follow, the army in South Africa must remain an eyesore to all who share the opinions of Your obedient servant. Field Officer. 183 CHAPTER X I Visit Miss Bloemfontein And shall here discuss her, Mr. Kipling, Lord Stanley, and our own behaviour We published in the next issue, No. ii, of March 26th, a letter by " Miss Uitlander " (pro- nounced in that country '' Aitlander "). It was as genuine a production of the young woman- hood of the town as that of " Miss Bloemfon- tein " had been, and it would have been wholly to our liking had it been as exceptional and bold a bit of work as the other, for it was, naturally, very pro-English. Suffice it to say that it an- swered and contradicted the Boer sentiments with vigour. This reminded us that we were to enjoy no more communications from the sprightly and talented Miss Bloemfontein. Most gallantly we had resolved to allow her the last word and there end the correspondence, but she had remained silent, leaving us with that " last word " which 184 Miss Bloemfontein. (A Portrayal of a Type, by Lester Ralph.) I Visit Miss Bloemfontein we, like simpletons, had never doubted that she would claim as hers by right of her womanhood. She was laughing at the predicament in which she had abandoned us, for she was wide awake at all points. She had done me the honour to ask me to call upon her and — in this the laugh was on my side — then had repented of it. She repented because, in my reply to her communication, I had addressed her as '' sweetheart " and had called her " dear." It had happened that when she wrote to the paper she let a few close friends into the secret, and these, when they read my lover's terms addressed to her, made haste to twit her upon the publicity of these verbal ca- resses, so that from rose-and-pearl she became peony red and hot of cheeks, and not nearly as desirous of seeing me as before my second letter saw the light. However, I went to her home and found it very prettily appointed and comfortable, with an admiring family gathered around their girlish idol who had been to London, and who sang sweetly, played the piano deftly, and seemed to have read at least a little upon many subjects. She was, I should say, seventeen or eighteen, a pure blonde, still very girlish both in face and figure. I spent a pleasant hour in her company, and an English of^cer who called there at the 185 War's Brighter Side same time endeavoured to persuade her to make up a party for afternoon tea at his regimental camp near the town. But her mother had an- nounced that she could not bear to walk in the streets and see the British soldiers disfiguring the once hallowed scenery of the place, so it was perhaps no wonder that Miss Bloemfon- tein decHned to take afternoon tea with those enemies. " I will not do anything to encourage or rec- ognise their presence," she said. *' When your mother is not looking, I am going to whisper something to you," I re- marked. " Now is my time. It is this : You are a little fraud; you are no Boer at all." I intended to go on and explain that a girl so clever and well read, and who lived amid such refined surroundings, could not possibly sympa- thise with a semi-civilised and non-moral race. But she suspected that I meant something different. *' You mean because I am a Jewess," she said. And then came the most comical closing of this very peculiar episode. She, who elect- ed herself to be the thampion of the Boers, was a Jewess, and I, who wooed her sup- posed sisterhood as an English adorer, am an American. 1 86 I Visit Miss Bloemfontein Ah, well, little Miss Bloemfontein, I was at least genuine in standing up for liberty, justice, and the highest principles of good govern- ment. They are the prizes that are guarded by my flag as well as by the one which floats over your town. And if you were as earnest in your sympathy for the Boers it was either because you had been deceived by them as to the causes of the war and the issues at stake, or else it was because your loyalty to the friends of a lifetime outweighed all else. May we not, then, part here with mutual esteem and respect? In this number we pubUshed two contribu- tions by Mr. Kipling, a second one of the " Fa- bles for the Staff " and some '' Kopje-book Maxims." All of us tried to assist at the fram- ing of these maxims, but, though we suggested two or three (Mr. Landon being the most fertile at the time), Mr. Kipling shaped them all in his own way and with a readiness and ease which ex- celled any work of composition that I have ever seen done by any writer in all my experience. It was said of him three or four years ago that he was then writing too much, but it will always seem to us that his difficulty must be in restrain- ing himself, and in publishing only the best that wells from his mind. Another peculiarity that we noticed was that 187 War's Brighter Side he would, by preference, carry forward two or three manuscripts at once and would write, now at one, and presently at another. The " Kopje- book Maxims " reveal this breadth and variety of his mental processes to whoever is able to un- derstand the fine shadings of the meanings of them all, and to those who can comprehend the fact that they were Hterally " dashed off " hot, like sparks under a smith's hammer. If these mere playthings of his pen, done as part of our merry and careless morning's work, were forced to stand as specimen products of the methods of this master writer, an injustice to him would follow. The point is that his methods are the same, and his mind works with simi- lar freedom and celerity, at all times, and at whatever he does; at least so far as we are able to judge. But what he wrote for The Friend was finished and published on the in- stant with no after-polishing and refinement, like the flawless work he has made us know so well. In this same number we printed an interest- ing forecast of the future of the Free State by Mr. Fred J. Engelbach. An ofificer sent us a jocular account of the amazingly plucky work being done by the Ordnance Survey — and par- ticularly of one feat by Major Jackson, R.E. We also published, from my pen, a short warn- i88 I Visit Miss Bloemfontein ing to the soldiers not to drink the water out of certain wells which had for years been known to contain the germs of enteric. I learned the fact during my visit to my " sweetheart," Miss Bloemfontein, and as I look back, now, upon that paragraph I almost shudder to think how little we dreamed that in a few weeks 7,000 men of our force would be down with that dread disease. I have referred to the fact that Lord Stan- ley came every day at noon to overlook what we had done. I would ask for nothing more amusing than to have heard his gossip at the Residency upon the manner in which he found The Friend to be conducted and pro- duced. The truth was that we had finished everything for the day, except the interminable proof-reading, by the time he reached what the country editor grandiloquently refers to as our " sanctum sanctorum." In consequence he always caught us just as we were looking up from our desks and taking a deep breath of relief. We who have been raised in this profession may not realise just what applause is to an actor, or what there may be to a bareback rider in the " smell of the sawdust," but we do know and fully realise that journalism is perhaps the only calling that men find as full of fun as it is of 189 War's Brighter Side hard work. The company of bright minds, certain to be sanguine and optimistic, the excitement produced by unexpected news, the rush to prepare it most atttractively and against time, the thousand unpubUshable con- ceits and views and arguments that leap to the mind and are discussed in council, the freaks and blunders of the reporters and contributors — all these elements are in the cup of joy that a journalist drinks off every day. Therefore when Lord Stanley came he was certain to find us merry and voluble and prank- ish. He may have imagined that we must per- force be grave — we to whom was given the high and almost religious right to speak for an empire and an army, and to conduct a British organ in so delicate a situation as was ours among the Boers — neither offending them nor giving them a chance to find a flaw in the practice of our principles. Grave enough was that part of our work which we meant to be so. Serious in its strain upon us and important in its effort to rest and inform and recreate the soldiers, was most of what we did. But it is a habit of the journalist's mind and a result of his work that he shall be or become a philosopher, viewing the world as it is, no matter how differ- 190 I Visit Miss Bloemfontein ently he may present it to a duller and more con- servative public. Therefore Lord Stanley >found us declaiming soldier poetry, writing nonsense verses, drawing caricatures of one another, telling stories, behav- ing like men without a care on their minds. We realised that he must be shocked at us — and we voted that he behaved very well under the cir- cumstances. He usually came in with a quick step and an air of business. We delayed him with chafif which he seemed always at a loss to understand at first. He got at our bundles of proof-sheets and he applied himself to them most gravely. By and by he began to catch the contagion of our spirits, his eye wandered from the sheets, he wavered — he began to join in our talk. " Is there anything else — or anything you are in doubt about?" he would ask. He believed us when we answered him, for he knew that we understood what not to publish. In that mutual trust and confidence there grew up a relation between us and himself which was dearly prized by us, and which we hoped he es- teemed as highly. Once he told us that there had been com- plaint of a mock-speech by the German Emperor which some one had written among a lot of pre- tended cablegrams avowedly fanciful. Once he declined to publish a mild attack of mine upon 14 191 War's Brighter Side Mr. Winston S. Churchill for finding fault with our army chaplains. At another time, upon the ground of prudence, he threw out an article upon our treasonous colonists which we copied from an Afrikander exchange. Apart from these slight exercises of his power he passed all our work, though it was as big in bulk as the " Newcomes " and " Vanity Fair " rolled to- gether — 300,000 words — ten columns a day for thirty days! I have called the censor's of^ce a '' hole in a wall," but our sanctum was not half as neat or presentable. Whoever has carried the collect- ing mania into the study of country newspa- per of^ces has noticed how one never dff¥ers from another. The greasy smell of printer's ink, the distempered walls stuck over here and there with placards and the imprint of inky fingers, the gaping fireplace, the bare, littered floor, the table all cut on top and chipped at the edges, the bottomless chairs with varying degrees of further dismemberment, the " clank — clank " of the press in the next room — these are the proofs positive of genuine coun- try newspaper offices the world around — from Simla to Bismarck, Dakota, and back again. And the office of The Friend was like all the rest. ?9? I Visit Miss Bloemfontein THE FRIEND. {Edited by the War Correspondents with Lord Roberts' Force.) BLOEMFONTEIN, MONDAY, MARCH 26, I900. FABLES FOR THE STAFF ^ The Elephant and the Lark's Nest by rudyard kipling II A discriminating Boer, having laid a Nestfull of valuable and informing Eggs, fled across the Hori- zon under pressure of necessity, leaving his Nest in a secluded Spot, where it was discovered by a Dis- interested Observer who reported the same to an Intelligence Officer. The Latter arriving at his Leisure with a great Pomposity said : *' See me hatch ! " and sitting down without reserve converted the entire Output into an unnecessary Omelette. After the Mess was removed, the Disinterested Observer observed : " Had you approached this matter in another spirit you might have obtained Valuable Information." " That," replied the Intelligence Officer, " shows your narrow-minded Prejudice. Besides I am morally certain that those Eggs come out of a Mare's Nest" " It is now too late to inquire," said the Dis- interested Observer, " and that is a pity." * Copyrighted, used here with the author's permission. War's Brighter Side "But am I not an Intelligence Officer?" said the Intelligence Officer. " Of that there can be no two opinions," said the Disinterested Observer. Whereupon he was sent down. Moral. Do not teach the Intelligence to suck Eggs. KOPJE-BOOK MAXIMS ^ BY RUDYARD KIPLING (With suggestive help from Percival Landon) HORSE Two Horses will shift a Camp if they be dead enough. Forage is Victory ; Lyddite is Gas. Look before you Lope. When in doubt Flank ; when in force Outflank. FOOT Take care of the towns and the Tents will take care of themselves. Spare the Solitary Horseman on the sky-line ; he is bound to be a Britisher. Abandoned Women and Abandoned Kopjes are best left alone. Raise your hat to the Boer — and you'll get shot. * Copyrighted, used here by permission. 194 I Visit Miss Bloemfontein GUNS The Dead Gunner laughed at the Pom-pom. " I Bet I killed ' Eighty,' " roared the 4.7. *' I have buried my three," snapped the Lee- Metford. " It is well to keep your hair on ; it is Better to take out your Tompion." A shell on the Rand is worth ten on the veldt. There are ninety and nine roads to Stellenbosch, but only two to Pretoria. Take the other. (Kopjeright in all armies and standing camps.) IS THE ART OF WAR REVOLUTIONISED? BY H. A. GWYNNE II. — Artillery " When a battery comes under rifle fire it be- comes worse than useless," once said a well-known foreign military expert. And if this statement is to be accepted, as we accept Euclid's axioms, then indeed I should be inclined to say that the art of war has become revolutionised completely. But having seen G Battery at Magersfontein practically silence at a range well within 1,500 yards (I believe at one time it was only 1,200 yards) a strong force of the enemy's riflemen firing from good cover on an un- dulating plain, it becomes apparent that the military expert's dictum is incorrect. I cite the instance of G Battery because, perhaps, it is the best known in 19=5 War's Brighter Side the operations in the Western Frontier, but I could, if necessary, give twenty cases where both Horse and Field Batteries have worked magnificently and effectively under a galling fire. At the same time I do not wish, for a moment, to lay it down as one of the rules of modern warfare that guns can be worked with impunity within 1,500 or even 2,000 yards of the enemy's rifle fire, for the danger of being put out is so apparent that it needs no demonstration. But artillery must have a good " position." Batteries cannot be hidden behind boulders as infantry soldiers can. Gunners must have an open field and more or less a commanding point from which to lay their guns. This necessity — a necessity to which no other arms are so com- pletely subjected — has entailed, during the course of the present war, the risk of whole batteries being under rifle fire. Before the introduction of the long- range rifle, there were but few instances where guns, in order to take up proper positions, were forced to come under effective rifle fire. Now, however, we have to face this risky possibility. And in this respect, and this respect only, can the use of the modern rifle be said to have made any change in the rules of war laid down for the use of artillery. The present campaign, if viewed from the point of view of the artilleryman, is an abnormal one. Field and horse batteries have had to face what has been practically siege artillery. In Natal we have been outranged by the use, by the Boers, of guns of great calibre and no mobility. We have faced the 196 I Visit Miss Bloemfontein difficulty — and successfully too — by bringing on to the field naval guns of equal calibre to the enemy's. And, although we have been surprised at the rapid way in which the Boers have shifted their heavy guns, I still dare to think that we can move our 4.7 guns with greater rapidity. My intention, however, is not to discuss the use of the naval large calibre guns in field operations. Such a discussion would be outside the scope of this article. I prefer to look upon their use in this campaign as an abnormal epi- sode — which, perhaps, may never again occur in civilised warfare, except in case of sieges. Artillery in operation in the field is represented by Horse and Field (Howitzers and ordinary) guns. Now what lessons have our artillery learnt from the engagements of the present war ? That is the most important question, and I propose to answer it to the best of my ability, feeling and hoping that my answer will induce abler answers from other pens. It is impossible, in discussing the uses and abuses of any particular arm, to dissociate that arm from the whole to which it belongs. A complete modern force should consist of a proper proportion of horse, foot, and artillery. The three form the whole, the perfect machine. The parts must fit into each other as the cogs of one wheel fit into those of another. In the war of the future infantry will be used for two purposes — to contain the opposing infantry, and to hold positions seized by the mobile portion of the force, be it cavalry or mounted infantry. There will be very little preparation by the artillery for infantry 197 War's Brighter Side attack, for the simple reason that I am convinced that frontal attacks are things of the past. Not the modernest of modern artillery, lyddite, melinite, or whatever high explosive is used, can by frontal con- centration move or weaken infantry sufficiently to destroy their defensive power against an infantry attack. There will, therefore, be in the next war between European or civilised military Powers grand artil- lery duels between the opposing artillery, while the mounted force of one is trying to outflank the other. The obvious necessity, therefore, is the highest de- velopment of the most mobile portion of the artillery — the R.H.A. Flank movements must necessarily be the tactics of the future. Battles will be, as they always have been, won by strategy, but for modern strategy and modern tactics the great necessity will be the greatest mobility of the greatest force. But the British Army, as it certainly possesses the finest material for infantry in the world, also possesses, I feel sure, as fine an artillery as any. I am not talking now of guns, but of the men who work them. In attempting to outflank an enemy with the mobile portion of his force, the general of the next war will find his flanking movement met by the mobile por- tion of his opponent's army. The result is to be either a return to the old cavalry charges against cavalry or an artillery diiel. The latter, I believe, will be the case. The cavalry of the future will be a mixture of the mounted infantry men and the cav- alry men, and as such will be able to stop with rifle 198 I Visit Miss Bloemfontein fire any attempts at the old-fashioned charge, and the verdict will be pronounced by the gunners. Then, indeed, will the better-trained, better-equipped, better-handled horse artillery be able either to drive back the attack and so save the whole situation, or to force in the defence and win the whole battle. Wherefore it would appear to me that we should improve and improve our horse artillery until we have the best guns, the best gunners, and the best organisation in the world. I know we have the best material. Exactly the same thing applies to the Field Artil- lery, which I, for one, would like to see done away with. That is to say, that the distinctions between Horse and Field Artillery should be removed. I would give a heavier gun and a better gun to the Horse Battery, and make the Field Battery men mobile. This would give us an uniform artillery, in which the mobility of the Field guns would be increased and the range of Horse guns improved. After all, the difference in weight of a Field and a Horse gun is not so great. We must be pre- pared to provide some means of moving it more rapidly. The advantages of this change appear to be self-evident. The quick and rapid movement of artillery is bound to be the great factor in future battles. We are making our infantry men mobile, every day; why not do the same with the artillery? If we can bring up a gun of equal calibre to that of the enemy, the issue will be to the better-manned, better-handled gun. To be able to rapidly throw a 199 War's Brighter Side great force on any given point of the enemy's line is to ensure victory in infantry tactics. The same thing applies, surely, to the artillery. Why have a slow and a rapid moving artillery? Why not make the whole of it capable of rapidity? This campaign has been the first between two civilised nations where high explosives have been used in the bursting charges. I have made careful inquiries from Boer prisoners as to its effect, and the only conclusion that I have come to is that veracity is not a virtue of the burgher. Some have spoken of the bursting of a lyddite shell as the most terrible ex- perience they have ever had, and have compared its action to that of an earthquake. But I must confess that on pursuing my inquiries further I have gen- erally found that these vivid portrayers of its awful effects have been attached to some hospital in the rear. The prisoners taken at Paardeberg were sin- gularly divided as to its destructive power. Albrecht is said to have declared that it was a pure waste to drop a lyddite shell into soft ground, and to have admitted that on rocky ground it had a most de- moralising effect. On the whole, however, I am in- clined to say that the effect of lyddite is certainly not as great as we expected, and I cannot help think- ing that time-shrapnel well burst and well aimed is more dreaded by the Boers than lyddite shells. And now I am going to tread on delicate ground. We have all our little idiosyncrasies, and gunners are not without theirs. They will have nothing to say to the Vickers-Maxim. " It is a toy and not a gun," I 200 ' I Visit Miss Bloemfontein have heard many a gunner declare. But I contend that we have never used it properly. Lord Dun- donald's galloping Maxim was intended to accom- pany cavalry. Why not have a galloping " pom- pom " ? It can be brought into action with great speed, it has a great range, and everybody will agree that it is a most accurate gun. It would have been most useful against the Boers when they fled from Poplar Grove, and its effect upon a battery coming into action is not to be despised, as the gallant T Battery will testify from their experiences at Drie- fontein. Again, its use on kopjes held by cavalry pending the arrival of infantry would surely be bene- ficial. It has a demoralising efifect; even more so than a percussion shrapnel, and our enemy in the present campaign is particularly susceptible to de- moralisation when operating in open ground. One of the difficulties with which the artillery in the present campaign has had to contend has been to find out the extent of our infantry advance for which they are preparing with a bombardment. As the Mauser and Lee-Metford render early cover necessary for infantry, it has come about that our infantry, while seeking to render itself invisible to the enemy, has succeeded in making itself almost entirely invisible to our supporting artillery. On many occasions our artillery has ceased fire long before it was necessary, because it became impos- sible to tell how far our advance extended, for no artillery officer — and rightly so — will run the risk of inflicting damage on his own infantry. The 20I War's Brighter Side remedy for this state of things has yet to be dis- covered. In making public opinions such as these — the opinions of a mere layman — I should feel inclined to make some kind of apology, knowing as I do that they are liable to be read by men whose whole life is devoted to the practice as well as the theory of the use of artillery in the field, were it not for the fact that I am optimistic enough to believe that my re- marks will provoke criticism. I am aware that the British officer is not much given to rushing into print, but I am also convinced that he will not sit tamely by when heresies are propagated. If, there- fore, the views I have enounced are unsound and unpractical, it is his bounden duty to contradict them. And in doing so he will probably contribute his own views, which will undoubtedly receive far greater attention, from the fact that they are set forth by men actually serving in the field, than if they are kept back till the end of the war, when a successful issue will probably bring with it apathy on the part of those in whose hands rest the destinies of the British Army. THE NEW MACHINE GUN Rarely, if ever, in the annals of the Ordnance Survey has the British Government sent out a fully equipped Survey Section, for the purpose of recon- naissance duty, previous to the present war. Dur- ing the march from Modder River to Bloemfontein, 202 I Visit Miss Bloemfontein they have had plenty of scope for displaying the special training received, necessary for successful sketching, surveying and reconnoitring an enemy's position. At Paardeberg a very successful and complete sketch to scale was made of the Boers' laager by Major Jackson, R.E., who, whilst exposed to a hot lire every day and within 800 yards of the enemy's trenches, and where men were faUing every min- ute, nevertheless completed the whole sketch within four days. This part of the warfare, where you walk well within the enemy's firing line with only a revolver, the Boers continually sniping and potting, no cover, and no chance of a '' kick or hit back," makes you feel as though you would like to charge into their midst, get hand to hand, and at least have one shot or hit, in return for the compliments and salutes they pay you. But no, you must stand still in the open, coolly go on with the sketching, and not mind the bullets, even if they take a leg off the plane table or knock the pencil out of your hand. The only thing that is to be feared seriously is the rain, and that may make the ink run, spoil the sketch, and cause a lot of trouble and annoyance. The Boers may " knock spots oflf you," but the sketch is the principal thing ; another R.E. Surveyor may be obtained, but not another plan, until prob- ably too late for practical use. Presumably the burghers mistake the tripod and plane table (used for the purpose) for a new kind of 203 War's Brighter Side machine gun, or some other deadly weapon, from the way in which they bang away when it is erected, and it does, no doubt, surprise them when they find it does not spit fire and lead, and probably they put it down as a ** Rooinek " risking a snap-shot at close quarter, but they are very restless '' sitters " and re- sent the intrusion of Mausers, although never asked to pay a proof in advance — proof positive of a neglected education. ADVICE TO AN OFFICER ON GOING TO THE WARS 'Twas well remarked by Mack-Praed, In wise and witty lay, " We*re known to be extremely brave ; So take the sword away." Aye, let the sword and feather go, Bright belt and glitt'ring braid; Assume a sad and grub-like hue, For battle or for raid. No more in steel the warrior gleams. In scarlet cuts a dash ; The hero now may scarce permit His eagle eye to flash. For glint and gleam and flash and flare Will all afford a mark ; The better plan, in modern days. Is just " to keep it dark." 204 I Visit Miss Bloemfontein We ask no more that you shall shine ; Be dull if you would win. I mean, of course, in outward show — Lucidity within. For " slim's " the word now most in vogue (That's " sly," if read aright) ; From head to heel be dull and dim, ^ Your brain alone be bright. It is no joy that you should smash Your head against a wall ; " We're known to be extremely brave," So pray be wise withal. Be lion-mettled — as you were; But not too proud to scout; And if the foe is right in front. Why, go a mile about. Go forth in strength of intellect, Shining with all your wit ; So shall you baulk the wily foe — Unhit, shall make a hit. E. T. 205 CHAPTER XI Our Very Mixed Public A Study of Tommy Atkins, the Inscrutable — Our Dutch Compositors Arraigned The lady who signed herself '' Miss Uit- lander " was also kind enough to 'write for us an article on " Tommy in a Lady's Eyes." It was clever. She said that Tommy walked the streets looking as if he always had walked them — and that was true. It is also true that Tommy did everything else in the same way. Wherever you put him or he found himself he uttered no comments or exclamations, but at once adapted himself to the situation. During the seven months I was with him I never could fathom the operations of his mind. Sometimes I suspected that he had none; at other times I envied him the kind of mind he had. Our lady reporter said that Tommy '' loves to make an impression on the feminine heart — but, alas! his khaki uniform does not suit him. 206 Our Very Mixed Public Like country, like dress. We now see ourselves as others see us, af khaki-coloured people in a vast khaki-coloured land." Of the officers she said, " their amiabiUty, patience, and high breed- ing are a treat to come in contact v^ith in a coun- try such as this, where Jack is considered as good as his master; in his own estimation, a very good deal better." '' Bloemfontein is khaki-mad," she con- cluded; " Tommy is everywhere. The shops overflow with him — and hozv he spends his money! It will be an object-lesson to those who, a few short weeks ago, were sure that Eng- land was on the verge of bankruptcy. The streets abound with him. The place is a bee- hive of soldiery, and never again will be any other, I most fervently hope and trust." I copy this bit of a long article because it brings strongly to mind and in full swing and colour the daily scenes in the streets of Bloem- fontein. Whenever we ran out of The Friend office to the hotel or the printing works or the Club, we saw the same endless parade of sol- diers up and down the pavements, the same motley cavalcade of mounted men in the streets. At the sound of drums we all ran out — for civ- ilisation was far away, and the natural man was welling up strong in us — to see a regiment marching in, or out — or, too often, to view a 15 207 War's Brighter Side funeral procession leading a poor bundle of the dust of a hero strapped upon a gun-carriage. In the shops we found a wall of soldiers be- fore every counter. They were in swarms like flies in all except the drinking places. There they could not go; poor fellows, to whom a drink would have seemed so much more than to us, who could have it whenever and wherever we wanted it. I will say again, here, as I have said else- where once before, that though we underwent more danger than many of the soldiers (who were not sent, as we were, into every battle), and though we endured hardships sufBcient to daunt many strong men, we correspondents had this advantage over the rest — that, no mat- ter how light was the marching-kit ordered for the troops, we were usually followed by our carts, and when these came up with us, we had abundance — and some luxuries. It was my good fortune to be able to re- plenish the larder of one regiment more than once when, between battles, it entertained a general or the Commander-in-Chief. We in Roberts's and Methuen's army, were never criti- cised for living as well as we could, but there is a story current in army and war correspondent circles to the efifect that the hero of Omdurman severely rebuked certain correspondents for 208 Our Very Mixed Public living on a scale which provoked the envy of the officers, and demoralised them. One corre- spondent of the Httle mess that was thus criti- cised — a man who drank very little himself — is said to have utilised one camel solely to carry the champagne with which he entertained his friends among the officers. I do not say what I might have done had this story been told me earlier, but, as it was, I had no camel, and the champagne that kind friends sent me from Eng- land never reached me. My stores consisted of poultry in tins, pud- dings, jams (how good those Cape jams are, by the way; they should have a great sale in all civilised parts), tinned vegetables, bully beef, and bullier tongue and ham, preserved fruits, biscuits, figs, cigarettes, cigars, and a little most evanescent whisky. But to get back to the streets of soldier- burdened Bloemfontein; how surely, as we assembled in the corner by the office, did the soldiers recognise their poet and friend. He looked at all of them in general, but all of them stared at him in particular. They passed the word from rank to rank, '^ There's Rudyard Kipling! " and then marched on, leaving their eyes on his face while their bodies passed along, until it looked as if they must dislocate their necks before they had their fill of seeing him. 209 War's Brighter Side He was like a comrade when he talked to a private, and talk to them he did. Jack tar, Colonial, regular, and Pathan, he talked to all alike. " How are you getting- on? Is your camp all right? Near here? Where was your last fight? " So he both introduced himself and set them talking and at ease — all in a breath. But, as I have said, '' Tommy " is inscru- table. I stepped one day into a German tobac- conist's across the street from, and farther along than, the Club, and found it packed by soldiers who were being served by an insolent German with a portrait of ex-President Steyn in his coat lapel. *' Take that picture out of your button- hole," said I. '' What do you mean by wearing a thing like that when you are under British rule, and have been both protected and gener- ously treated? " " I vill vear vot I shoose," said he. I made a mental promise to see that he did not wear that emblem much longer, and then turning to the soldiers I said, '' Men, did you see what this man is wearing? Why do you spend your money on a man whose sympathies are with the Boers? Give his shop the cold shoulder, and he will soon see that he is making a mistake." 2IO Our Very Mixed Public The appeal was in vain. The men instantly began to look very uncomfortable. They rolled their eyes up to the ceiHng or pinned their gaze on the floor. No one said a word or even shot a glance of approval in my direction. They did not care. Tommy does not care— never cares — about anything, apparently. I tried to keep my promise. Search was made for that tobacconist, but he never served behind his counter after that visit of mine. He saved the miUtary the trouble of sending him to Capetown. Lively days were those for rebels and irrec- 'oncilables. The men who had most ardently furthered the cause of the Bond and the Trans- vaal war party, and who had the indecency to loiter in the town, were quickly weeded out and sent to the Boer prison camp near Capetown. If we could not always tell who were our friends, these mischievous wretches were worse off, for, ofttimes, their old neighbours, tired of the war and awake to the folly of keeping it up, pointed them out to the military, and retailed their nauseous histories. " I feel a little like a lieutenant of Fouche," said one correspondent to me. " I had pointed out to me a former editor of one of the local papers whose pen was used with vitriol and who did as much as any man to degrade and spoil 211 War's Brighter Side this little country. I was told that he is still talking angrily and abusively of us, and I was indignant. I mentioned the case to a promi- nent military officer and in three hours the man was a prisoner on his way to Capetown. I feel as if I was living in Paris in the French revolu- tion — very creepy and uncomfortable. I shall keep my discoveries of such rascals to myself after this." In this number mine was the leader entitled, '' Do we Spare the Rod too Much? " A friend- ly visitor, whose signature '' L. D.-J." unfor- tunately fails to recall his full name to my mind, wrote a very interesting sketch called '' Towards War," which shows with fidelity to the truth how the mere process of going to war prepares one for the war itself. Mr. Landon wrote the first true account most of us saw or heard of the mishap at Karree Siding, w^here four of our offi- cers were shot, on March 23, while riding over the country on a search for forage. Lieut. Lygon, who was one of the killed, was an inti- mate and beloved friend of Mr. Landon, who mourned him deeply and most lovingly looked after his burial and the proper marking of his grave. Death had come too close to all of us far too often, but never quite so close to any one of us as in this instance. Mr. Gwynne's thoughtful essays on the revo- 212 Our Very Mixed Public kitionised science of war produced a first reply in this number, from an officer competent to dis- cuss the subject. General Sir Henry Colvile wrote with much good humour twitting us for the blundering of our compositors, who had made a botch of the double acrostic he had so kindly sent us some days before. The fact that we were as much to blame as the compositors he managed, with extremely clever wording, to make us feel, though he did not say so. Those compositors! — were ever men so badly served as we were by them? They doubled our work, and though we corrected every error they made they often spoiled our efforts at the last by fail- ing to carry out our corrections. They were so ingenious as to spell struggle '' strxxlg," and then to insist that it should appear so in The Friend. They invented the new rank of " branch colonel " to take the place of briga- dier-general or lance-corporal, I cannot remem- ber which. I used to think they made this trouble on purpose, for I knew that some were Dutch and all had been with the Boers before we came. And when secret pro-Boer circulars and incentives to disorder were found to have been printed in the town, I had a sneaking suspicion that I could guess who were the printers. We cut the Gordian knot of one of our 213 War's Brighter Side troubles in this number by reducing the price of The Friend to one penny to men of all ranks ahke. THE FRIEND. {Edited by the War Correspondents with Lord Roberts* Forces^ BLOEMFONTEIN, TUESDAY, MARCH 27, I900. BY THE EDITORS To Correspondents. — Please do not write on both sides of your letter sheets when you contribute to The Friend. It's all right to take a kopje on both sides, but you should not send it in on both sides. Some of the Editors are sufficiently profane already. CONCERNING ACROSTICS BY MAJOR-GENERAL SIR H. E. COLVILE Sir, — '* We don't hexpect hart and we don't hexpect hacting, but yer might jine yer flats." It is perhaps too much to expect that the gentle- man who sets up the type of The Friend should know the usual structure of a double-acrostic, or that he should trouble himself with such details as my punctuation and spelling ; but he might have let my lines continue to scan and retain some germ of meaning; and, even if he did not realise that the proem was intended for verse, he might have let it stand as English prose. His statement that " ac- 214 Our Very Mixed Public cording to the writer " the answer gives " the most appropriate cognomen," &c., is interesting, as any- thing must be that falls from his stick. It further reveals a wealth of imagination of which his previ- ous efforts gave us no hint. H. C. Writer of the Double Acrostic in Saturday's issue. Bloemfontein, 24th March, 1900. (Please don't shoot the Editors, they are doing their best. — Ed., Friend.) TOWARDS WAR BY L. D.-J. The crowded platform at Waterloo, the groups of men in great-coats gathered round figures in ulsters with travelling rugs upon their arms ; the long train with its dirty painted boards above the carriages inscribed " Aldershot," " Basingstoke," '* South- ampton " ; the last joke, the last catchword, the last farewell grip of parting hands ; the sudden remem- brance of need of newspaper or sandwich ; the bustle and hurry of railway officials, servants, late voy- agers, or later friends, thronging the platform from refreshment-room to book-stall: these tell little to the observer of war and its alarms. Only at either end of the platform where the great doors of the baggage-brakes yawn upon piles of valises, beneath whose white-painted rank, name, 215 War's Brighter Side regiment, the bold initials " S.A.F.F." catch the eye, guarded by soldier servants, field-service cap on right eye, uniform hidden under collared great- coat; or on the racks of the compartments, vi^here curiously shaped tin cases cover the cocked hat or the helmet, and where, showing through a bundle of canes, golf-clubs, and polo sticks, is seen the clumsy brown leather shape of a sword case, is there a hint of military significance, a clue to the tension of the thronged faces, taking a farewell under cir- cumstances not of the ordinary. The Saturday afternoon in December, yellow and dull under the bitter black frost which has gripped the heart of the land, as the ill news has gripped the heart of the people, which comes to round ofif a week whose despatches have announced the disasters of Stormberg, Magersfontein, Tugela, the threefold defeat on hill and plain and river — is no day for cheerful leave-taking. Although every lip is silent on the subject of the morning's news, latest and worst of all ; although the spoken word is all of a brilliant campaign, a stroke of luck, a speedy and safe return, there looms before each mind the com- ing list of casualties, the thought of war's inevitable chances, the possibility that here and now are some who may never be seen again firm-footed on a metropolitan causeway, whose trick of a smile, twist of a moustache, and' cock of hat upon forehead must become a slowly dimming memory through the remnants of a life. ;K * ^ * * ik * :i: ^ 216 Our Very Mixed Public The fire blazes against the frosty draught in the hall of the Southampton Hotel. Baggage is piled upon baggage half-ceiling high in every, corner. Hungry men are hurriedly moving along the cor- ridors towards the dining-room, in their travelling suits of tweed or serge. At two or three tables family parties are dining together for the last time ; the women silent, quiet-eyed, smiling but momen- tarily at the sally of light-hearted youth, a sigh ever held in suspense behind kind lips and white teeth. The writing-room holds a group of scrawling men, finishing final letters, re-iterant of parting phrases, enforcing last injunctions, expressing forgotten be- hests. And at the foot of. the stairs stand two officers in uniform, both in peaked caps, one mili- tary, one naval, with white bands upon their sleeves. They are the Embarking Stafif Officers ; they are the first visible sign of war. JK ♦ * >i« * H« * ^ * Grey fog upon the waters, grey fog hanging round the sheds upon the wharves, a grey transport with red funnels, towering above the levels of water and quay. Cranes rapidly sling guns, waggons, cases, with creak, shout and thud over the grey bul- warks. Lines of uncouth figures in grey great-coats, and blue red-banded sea-caps, pass sight-protected rifles from hand to hand up the steep gangways and along between rows of boxes and baggage to the armoury. The saloon is filled with lunching officers, their friends and relatives. The last toast is lifted in silence to the last lips ; and eyes looking over brim 217 War's Brighter Side of wine-glass are eloquent of more than speech is master of. The harsh clang of the warning bell, speaking full-voiced the words x>f Destiny, transfers to the grey quay groups of dispirited, saddened women, and of men stern-eyed and holding be- tween their teeth and under the cover of moustache or beard, minute bleeding portions of their inner lips. On the promenade deck, gay in a scarlet jumper, over-weighted a little by his large khaki-covered helmet, leans upon a stanchion a very junior subal- tern. His boyish, hairless face is blue with the cold frost-fog, he is biting very rapidly and nervously at the end of a cigar that went out ere half its length was smoked. Looking up at him from the wharf below, a group isolated from other groups holds a tall lady clad in furs, heavily veiled, her handkerchief peeping from her muff, and one arm resting heavily upon that of a grey-haired military man, while son and daughter, or nephew and niece, perhaps gather protectingly to her side. There is still delay. The gangways are removed, but still the hawsers hold. The cold compels the watchers on the wharf to take a few hurried, swiftly- turned paces up and down its length. The voyagers stamp upon the deck, or beat a furtive arm across a swelling chest. But they do not turn even for a second from contemplation of that shore they may never see again. . . . • A whistle blows, there is the sound of a cable slipping through the water, the lady in the furs comes hastily forward, puts up her veil a little way and tries to shout. The youthful subaltern 2i8 Our Very Mixed Public leans out perilously over the side. The words come faintly up. . . . '* Good-bye ! Rex. . . . God bless you ! . . . I know I shall see you again. . . ." The lady beats her hand desperately upon her muff, and dabs her handkerchief unknowingly against her veil. . . . The band aft is playing " Auld Lang Syne," a stretch of greenish water spreads between ship and shore, a few half-hearted cheers are rising through the grey fog, and the sound of a melancholy chapel bell in the distant town tells of a half-forgotten Sab- bath. . . . The subaltern's eyes no longer see things clearly, and the handkerchief he waves as answer to those fluttering along the grey length of the quay is heavy and damp. ... So we come a little closer to the realities of war. Lights flicker and gleam in the dark shade of the poplar trees fringing the platform. There is a hush over those who hold space upon the gravel before the station-master's office. In the darkness it is difficult to see who one's neighbour may chance to be. But voices betray the presence of the P.M.O. and half a dozen officers from the Field Hospital behind the church. At the other end of the plat- form lie the sinister stretchers of a bearer company laid out in an interminable row. Up to the line comes the low melancholy whistle of the armoured train. . . . All day from far beyond the ring of hills that cages the camp upon the plain has come the dull 219 War's Brighter Side booming of heavy guns. There has been a battle and there have been losses : this we know. The ap- proaching train is bringing in the wounded from the scene of action, but who they may be who suffer we have yet to learn. As the light comes round the bend above the water-tank, there is a stir arnong the waiting groups. A command rings out, and is fol- lowed by the shuffle of feet as the bearer company stands to its stretchers. The train glides slowly, looming up in its solid armoured squareness between the goods sheds and the rolling-stock upon the sid- ings. It draws into the little colonial wayside station with a flash of its headlight that renders the platform darker than ever. The form of its commander drops from the rear carriage, with its maxim-portals, and its loop-holes for rifles, all sliding by dim and grey and sinister. In a low voice he tells the P.M.O. *' six killed, fourteen wounded, I have brought down eight." " Any officers ? " questions some one in the background. " Jones is killed, and Spindrift miss- ing," comes the response, " and young Michael is here, shot in five places." . . . Lanterns swing back and forth, the doctors get into the carriage, there is a low, subdued murmur of voices from within ; a breath of some antiseptic comes from the interior ; a groan is audible. Then the bearer company marches slowly along the edge of the platform. Four men enter with their stretcher, and after a painful lapse of time, the lan- terns swing again, the group stands back a little, and slowly, carefully, feet foremost, the first 220 Our Very Mixed Public wounded man is brought out, and lowered upon his stretcher to the ground. While his blankets are being arranged there is time to see him indistinctly : a bandage round his head with a dark, tell-tale patch soaking through it, a pale face with closed eyes and a pale moustache disarranged across his mouth. Last night we dined and drank together. Now, as he is borne off out of hearing, the medical officers whisper, " poor chap, there is no hope for him ; he cannot last the night." Gradually the armoured train disgorges its un- happy load, the stretchers receive their burdens, the marshalled procession goes slowly over the line towards the hospital, the medical officers in close attendance, and the engine pushes and pulls its bullet-proof trucks back through the night to fetch another cargo. War and its horrors are with us now, and are scarcely so terrible after all. Our gradual approach has softened them or possibly hardened us — who shall say which ? KARREE SIDING BY PERCIVAL LANDON There has been so much misrepresentation of the facts connected with the unfortunate incident at Karree Siding on the 23rd that the following brief description of what actually occurred may be of interest. A military camp had been formed at the Glen — 221 War's Brighter Side the point at which the railway crosses the Modder River, thirteen miles north of Bloemfontein — on the previous day, and Colonel Eyre Crabbe, of the Grenadier Guards, had been appointed commandant, with his adjutant, Lieutenant Edward Lygon, as his staff officer. Forage was scarce, and it became necessary to collect a amall amount from the neighbouring farms. Colonel Crabbe, accompanied by Colonel Codring- ton of the Coldstream Guards, Lieutenant Lygon, Captain Trotter, and one orderly, set out after lunch- eon on Friday for this purpose, and, moving out in a northerly direction, visited three farms, and then, finding themselves close to the railway office at Karree Siding, entered the telegraph room at that place and found that the instruments had been removed. On riding out from the station they saw on a ridge to the north four mounted Boers against the sky-line, and Colonel Crabbe, calling out " Come on, let us round them up," set out at once in their direction, followed by Colonel Codrington and the others. A slight protest was made against the dan- ger of the attempt. The Boers had ridden away to the west, but were still in sight, and they were seen attempting to double back over a slight rise in the ground strewn with boulders that scarcely deserves the name of a kopje. Believing that the enemy had ridden over and away, the small party moved on and divided at the base of this fold. Captain Trotter and Lieutenant 222 Our Very Mixed Public Lygon moving off to the right, the two Colonels and the orderly keeping to the left. The Boers, however, leaving their horses at the back of the rise, took up positions behind the rocks, and opened a well-aimed and constant fire upon our men. Colonel Crabbe, whose horse had fallen at the first shot, was struck through the forearm and thigh. Colonel Codrington received a bullet as he lay on the ground attempting to return the fire, and the orderly was wounded in the ankle. Meanwhile firing on the other flank continued for two or three minutes, until Lieutenant Lygon, who had dis- mounted and was running forward to gain the cover of an anthill, was shot through the heart. Death was instantaneous, even Captain Trotter being un- aware of it until he turned round, receiving at the same moment an expanding bullet through the elbow. Thus the whole of the small force was now either dead or wounded, and Colonel Crabbe surrendered. The Boers instantly came down into the open, and, expressing their regret, did all they could to dress the wounds, Captain Trotter undoubtedly owing his life to the tourniquet applied to his arm. The wounded men were afterwards carried by the Boers with great care to Mr. Maas' farm, and the news was sent back to the Glen by a Kaffir. Lieutenant Lygon's body was borne back on the following morning, and was buried near the small white kraal a hundred yards to the east of the rail- way bridge. The funeral, which took place at sun- i6 223 War's Brighter Side set on Saturday, was most impressive, the entire battalion attending the voluntary parade and lining the path between the camp and the grave. Little comment is needed. Clearly the virtue that runs to a fault has here been to blame. The same unquestioning pluck that impels an officer in leading his men on the field of battle prompted this careless enterprise, with the miserable result we have re- corded. We have lost — and the loss is the loss of the whole force — one of the best and most popular of our younger officers, and of the other casualties one at least may prove more serious than was antici- pated, but at least it is a compensation to remember that, however unfortunate the issue, the quiet pluck and discipline of the army have been once more tried and not found wanting. DON'T Advice to Looters BY H. A. GWYNNE Don't call on the Provost Marshal with a couple of live chickens on your saddle bow. Don't attempt to carry ofif a grand piano on an ammunition waggon ; it might be noticed. Don't cook sheep's kidneys ostentatiously in camp ; you may be asked where you found the sheep. Don't load your horse with flannel petticoats when carrying a message to a general ; flannel petti- coats are not a part of military equipment. 224 Our Very Mixed Public Don't swagger about camp with an air of re- pletion when the force is subsisting on quarter rations. Don't try to stuff a pillow into your helmet; it only spoils your appearance and gives the show away. Don't " pick up " anything with the broad ar- row on it. Don't steal a horse from the Club railings when its owner is having a whisky and soda; it is dis- tinctly dangerous. Don't " steal " a horse at all, but let it *' wander into your lines." Don't drive a flock of sheep across the pond of the Headquarter Staff; they might delay the Com- mander-in-Chief and make him angry. Don't wear a bunch of false hair in your hat ; it was never served out to you. Don't carry ladies' silk stockings in your wallets ; they won't fit you. Don't shout out in camp, " Who's stolen my silk umbrella ? " People might ask you where you got it from. Don't avoid ostentatiously the Provost Marshal as he rides along, greet him kindly and openly and perhaps he will not suspect you. SMALL AMMUNITION At Colesberg, in one of the numerous cavalry fights, an old Boer was held at mercy by a lancer 225 War's Brighter Side who had his lance ready to strike. " Moe nie ! Moe nie ! " cried the old man, which, being translated, means " Don't, don't ! " The lancer, however, didn't understand Dutch, and replied, " I don't want your money, I want your life," but the renewed appeal was too piteous, and the old man was taken prisoner* 226 CHAPTER XII " Vive la Compagnie " Four Correspondents Dine the General, the Gov- ernor, and Rudyard Kipling, and Produce The Friend as well " Alles zal recht komen " were the words of the late President Brand, true friend of the English, which were graven on the pedestal of his statue before the doors of the Residency. We repeated them in new '' tabs " beside the heading of our paper on March 28th, with an amended English translation facing them: "All has come right." " All shall come right," we said, in our edi- torial, " was the motto of the late Orange Free State. What a prophet was he who conceived it, and how quickly has come the fruition of his prophecy! All has come right." We published an appreciative editorial upon Sir Alfred Milner, who had come on the pre- vious day upon a visit to Lord Roberts. It was 527 War's Brighter Side written by Mr. Landon. Mr. Kipling contrib- uted more " Kopje-Book Maxims," and bore a heavy hand in the production of an amusing col- umn, entitled, " The Military Letter Writer." This was the way that column came into being. Mr. Landon, Mr. Kipling, and I were in the poet's bedroom when Mr. Landon produced a model letter-writer which he had found some- where. I take great credit for the phrase ^' found somewhere " ; it might, with any other man than Mr. Landon, be so full and rich in meaning. The book professed to be a sober guide to the young and the ignorant in the paths of epistolary literature; therefore it was bound to be supremely funny. We screamed over what Landon read to us out of it. Said Mr. Kipling: " Let's write some model military letters," and, as was his wont, he seized a pencil and paper and began to write No. i, reading as he wrote. He urged us both to con- tribute, and Mr. Landon tried with much good intent, while I wished to do so, but could not begin to keep pace with the poet. Instant col- laboration is almost always impossible, espe- cially where the inspiration comes to one man who is seized by it, and begins to give it expres- sion before his companions can match their minds with his. Therefore Mr. Kipling went on and on, and Mr. Landon took the block and 228 '' Vive la Compagnie " pencil and wrote as Mr. Kipling talked. Thus were produced letter No. i and the italicised in- troduction to No. 2; the rest Mr. Landon ar- ranged and edited out of his book. The column was pieced out at the end with No. 3 of Mr. KipHng's " Fables for the Staff," which was, therefore, hidden in a bottom cor- ner of the page — a stroke of genius on the part of those whom we anathematised collectively in the singular number as " The Dutch Com- positor." Mr. Buxton had been called away to Cape- town just after Mr. Kipling's arrival, and my associates, hag-ridden by the confusion and an- noyances consequent upon the lack of a prac- tised head to the little institution, had thrust upon me the honour and hard work of what may be called the managing editor's place. Thenceforth it was my duty to deal with the gnomes in the dust hall, the retiring and reticent cashier in another building, and the inmates of the Home for Boer Compositors, otherwise known as the ofifice of the late unla- mented Express. When I saw the genius of the Master thrust to the bottom corner of the paper, or made grotesque by mis-spelling and exhibitions of " pie," I felt that I alone was to blame, and hid myself and vowed to produce better results if I had to set up the type myself. 229 War's Brighter Side From an able major of Engineers we re- ceived for this number a confident and well- studied reply to Mr. Gwynne's articles on the effects of the war upon military science. This was the day upon which Mr. Landon, Mr. Gwynne, Mr. James Barnes, and myself were to entertain at dinner Sir Alfred Milner, Lord Roberts, and Rudyard Kipling. The menus had been printed under the eye of Mr. Landon, and were very distinguished examples of plain typography. As twenty-four were to be used, we gave twelve each to Mr. W. B. Wollen, RJ., and to Mr. Lester Ralph, war art- ists with the army, requesting these able friends to do their best to produce on each guest's menu a picture illustrative of some exploit or leading characteristic of the recipient. A very notable series of drawings resulted — so notable that the Field-Marshal, whose own card showed him in the act of receiving the Keys of Bloemfontein, asked to see them all. When toward the end of the repast, each man wrote his name on every menu, you may be certain those bits of paste- board bearing the simple words, " The Dinner of the 28th of March, Bloemfontein, 1900," leaped high in value, and in the jealous pride of every man who had one. That was a dinner! An affair as unique and 230 €^t ©inner of