I thought the incident was over, and got ready for my dinner. As I was

entering the dining-room at the Club Sir Jenkin Coles, the Speaker of the

House, a close friend of Kingston's, spoke to me about it. I told him the

decision of the Crown Solicitor left the matter in Kingston's favour; he

had been ordered to appear before me in accordance with the usual custom

of the Service to be finally dealt with. Sir Jenkin asked me if this was

necessary. "No," I answered; "if Sergeant Kingston signs a statement to

the effect that he is satisfied with the cause of his being placed under

arrest and the action taken in this matter by the military authorities I

don't want to see him at the office." No sooner had I said this than Sir

Jenkin rose from the dinner table to return in ten minutes with a written

statement, signed by Kingston, to the effect that he was quite satisfied

with the action taken by the authorities. So ended this extraordinary

episode, but I was told by a good many friends that I had driven a nail

in my coffin as regarded the Commandantship. The appointment was

practically in Kingston's hand. But those friends of mine did not know

him.

General Downes left Adelaide. The Government gave no indication of their

intentions re the appointment of his successor. The mayor's official ball

took place. Charles Cameron Kingston was talking to the Governor. He

beckoned me and said: "I have just informed His Excellency that the

Government have appointed you a colonel and Commandant of our forces."

His Excellency warmly congratulated me. I thanked Kingston.

My vision was fulfilled.

CHAPTER VII

THE GREAT STRIKES

In 1890 the great maritime strike had its birth in Sydney. The original

strikers were the wharf labourers, who paralysed all business. The strike

spread rapidly to practically all the chief ports of Australia. The

Government at Sydney trusted more to the support of the merchants and

producers, whose interests were being so assailed, than to the power that

lay in their hands to tackle the strikers by the aid of the military

forces. The police, under the able guidance of Mr. Fosberry, then Chief

Commissioner, did their work splendidly, but the situation became too

critical. Bank managers, insurance agents, squatters, architects and

others took off their coats and waistcoats, loaded and unloaded the

trolleys, and worked like common labourers. The farthest point that the

Government would go towards assisting the police in keeping order was to

detail a restricted number of mounted riflemen to protect the willing

volunteer workers from the assaults of the strikers.

In sympathy with the action taken in Sydney the Wharfmen's Unions in all

the other chief ports of Australia joined their comrades, and Port

Adelaide became a head centre. Previous to this the South Australian

Government had entered into an agreement with the Government of Western

Australia to train some fifty Permanent Force Artillerymen to garrison

the newly constructed forts at Albany. This detachment were just

completing their time at Largs Fort, so that the little Permanent Force

under my command in South Australia numbered some 130, of all ranks. The

strikers at Port Adelaide set to work with a good will. Every vessel in

the harbour was picketed, every approach to the wharves guarded. Business

was at an absolute standstill. Large mass meetings of strikers were held

morning and afternoon. The police, under Mr. Peterswald, reinforced by a

large draft from the country districts, could do no more than just

maintain order. The situation was more than serious. Mr. Peterswald

ventured to appear at a mass meeting one afternoon, hoping that he might

cast a little oil on the troubled waters. He came out on the balcony of a

hotel, facing the huge crowd of strikers. A quaint scene followed. Some

wags called out, "Take off your hat, Peter." They wanted to get

authority--as personified by the Commissioner--to bow to them. Peterswald

quickly recognized the position and, lifting his hat, said to them: "I am

glad to meet you, men. I hope you will go back to your work and put an

end to this serious trouble," and quickly left the balcony. The majority

cheered and laughed. But their leaders were on the job. The word was

passed on to the strikers that, about twelve o'clock that night, they

would receive definite instructions from their section leaders as to

their future action. All their pickets and guards were doubled that

night, and specially the guard on the railway bridge across the Port

River, which connected Port Adelaide with the shore and the forts.

During that afternoon I had given instructions that every available man

of our Permanent Force was to assemble at Fort Glanville, with a view to

a gun competition next day. Parliament was sitting. I was at Fort

Glanville, much occupied in laying down the conditions for next day's gun

practice. In the course of the evening Mr. Playford, the Defence

Minister, telephoned me from Parliament House to be ready to march with

my men under arms to Port Adelaide. As this was the first time that--as

far as I knew--an order had been issued by any Australian Government to

its permanent troops to march under arms to assist the police in quelling

civil riots, I asked that the instructions should be sent to me in

writing. The final words I heard on the telephone were, "Your

instructions will reach you by a mounted orderly in plenty of time for

you to act."

At about eleven o'clock that evening the mounted orderly arrived, and at

three in the morning--it was summer time, a moonlight night, practically

as clear as day--we marched out of the fort on our way to Port Adelaide,

where I found close on 400 police, mounted and foot, all armed. The

Government had, therefore, some 500 armed men to cope with the strikers

if they persisted in carrying out their threats. Half-past five came. It

was daylight. The inspector in charge of the police patrols which had

been posted the previous evening at all important bridges and approaches

to the wharves suggested that I should accompany him to view the

situation. We rode out together. Nobody was to be seen; the port was as

quiet as if it were Sunday morning. The strike leaders had become fully

aware of the determination of the Government to deal firmly with any

attempt on their part to disturb the public peace, and had deemed

discretion the better part of valour. The strike was virtually over, and,

after providing a good breakfast for my men, we marched back to Fort

Glanville in peace and quiet. This was the only instance that I am aware

of in the history of the Australian colonies when the members of the

Permanent Forces were actually called out and marched under arms to the

assistance of the civil power. Let us hope it will be the last.

Hardly were these troubles over when another large body of Australian

workers held up one of Australia's chief industries. The shearers, the

clippers of the fleeces, struck work. The shearers are a roving crowd,

who move from north to south of Australia's vast territory and back

again. Most of them are well known to the squatters who employ them. The

same old story--more wages, better conditions of living. My own opinions

as to the rights and wrongs of the shearers' claims may be of no value,

but my sympathies were certainly on their side as regarded, at least, the

conditions of living at the sheds.

I had had personal experience of how quickly utter ruin falls upon the

squatter. It is a question often of living in affluence one day and

having not a penny left within nine months. To record the names of the

squatters personally known to myself who had thus suffered would be a sad

task. They were many. However, their failure was not brought about by the

demands of the shearers. The granting of these demands in prosperous

times could not have much hurt the interests of their employers.

Providence has a special gift of casting ruin at times broadcast,

without, as far as we mortals can tell, any reason or rhyme. A few inches

of rain, falling at the right time of the year in any part of Australia,

ensures a plentiful supply of green feed and prevents the enormous

ravages amongst stock of all kinds which a drought causes.

The squatters fought their battle hard against the shearers in 1891. In

Queensland they had a sympathetic Government at the time. The maritime

strike had left a nasty taste in the mouths of the producers. The export

trade had been held up, and the necessaries of life imported from abroad

had been denied to the country districts. It was decided to adopt hard,

repressive measures.

The Government summoned to their aid the Mounted Rifles. These were

chiefly recruited in the country districts, and most of them were

producers themselves, and the strike broke down.

It was just about this time that I accompanied His Excellency Lord

Kintore, an old friend and neighbour from Aberdeenshire--then our

Governor in South Australia--as far as Brisbane. Lord Kintore had, some

time previously, arranged to proceed by sea to Port Darwin and undertake

the overland journey from there to Adelaide through the northern

territory, which was then under the administration of the South

Australian Government. It was a big undertaking, and by no means a

pleasure trip. We arrived in Brisbane, but, owing to the breaking down of

the ss. _Chingtu_, we had a delay of some days in that fair capital of

what will undoubtedly be in the future one of the richest of the

Australian States.

We rather taxed the splendid efforts of our hospitable friends by the

length of our stay. But they were not to be beaten. Strike or no strike,

they laid themselves out to give us as much joy as it was possible to do

in the time. I laid the foundation of many lasting friendships within

those few days. Then the _Chingtu_, with Lord Kintore on board, left for

Port Darwin, and I made my way backward to Adelaide.

The Melbourne Cup Meeting of 1891 was a fateful one for me, for I had the

happiness of becoming engaged to be married. I had known my future wife

for several years. She had been born in Victoria. Her father hailed from

County Galway, having emigrated to South Australia with his brother, the

late Hon. Nicholas Fitzgerald, than whom no public man in Australia was

ever held in higher esteem by all classes. The brothers made Burra Burra,

then a prosperous copper field to the north of Adelaide, their first

hunting-ground. From there they moved on to Victoria, in the days of the

discovery of the goldfields--Ballarat, Castlemaine, Kyneton and Bendigo.

At the time I married they had prospered well enough. Later on they

lost--for want of food and water--some 400,000 sheep on the various

stations they were interested in. My wife and I had hopes of buying old

Wardhouse, in Aberdeenshire, from my Spanish nephew. These hopes went by

the board. Ours was by no means a singular experience in the history of

Australian pioneers in the back country. I know of many friends who--if

possible--fared worse.

I was married on February 29, 1892. At the conclusion of our honeymoon,

which we spent at Gracedale House, close to the Blackspur range of hills,

Victoria, we returned to Adelaide, and once again I became a resident at

the Largs Bay Hotel.

When I look back to those happy days I feel thankful that my term of

office cost me but small worry. I happened to be successful in

maintaining quite cordial relations with the successive occupants of the

ministerial chair. I was not hampered by any serious reduction in our

financial vote. I was not troubled by any especially adverse criticisms

on the conduct of the forces, either in Parliament or in the Press. I was

able to carry out reforms which led the way to the adoption of the

"Universal Service System" now in vogue in the great Commonwealth of

Australia.

CHAPTER VIII

THE INTRODUCTION OF "UNIVERSAL SERVICE," AND TWO VOYAGES HOME

From the very time that I took over the duties of my first appointment I

had thought that a considerable improvement could be made in the

organization of the existing forces. I had encouraged the formation of

cadet corps, as far as lay in my power, and I had been splendidly

supported by the Education Department in my efforts, with the result

that, when I assumed the command, the cadet system was a flourishing

institution. The success that attended the cadet movement, the support

given to it by the parents, and the keen enthusiasm of the youngsters in

their work, led me to think that the time was ripe for the introduction

of a universal system of National Service, the ultimate aim of which was

to ensure that every youth should, by the time that he had reached the

age of manhood, twenty-five years, have undergone a course of training,

which, without interfering with his civil avocation, would render him a

desirable asset as a soldier. With this object in view I submitted a

scheme to the Government.

General Hutton, who had by this time been appointed Commandant of New

South Wales, arranged a conference of the Commandants of the States in

Sydney to discuss several important matters in connexion with the defence

of Australia as a whole. Two very important agenda were: (a) the

necessity for determining the nature of the heavy armaments of the forts,

in point of uniformity and efficiency, and (b) the co-ordination of the

several systems of enlistment then in vogue throughout the States.

I informed my brother Commandants that I intended to recommend my

Government to merge our Volunteers into the partially paid force, which

would be a substantial move towards the simplification of the conditions

of service. Further, I suggested that if the South Australian Government

carried out the proposed change it would assist them materially towards

effecting a similar change in their own colonies.

I did not, however, deem it advisable to mention the plans I had with

reference to the introduction of universal service, for the change was a

radical one. I knew that if any suspicion arose that it was proposed to

introduce a form of military service compelling citizens by law to devote

no matter how small a portion of their own time to military training,

such proposals would at once be looked upon as simply an insidious way of

creating conscription, a compulsory system of service--a form of service

absolutely distasteful and foreign to us British, and even more so to

British colonists. It was therefore necessary for me to take the greatest

care very gradually to prepare and school the public mind so that the

term "National Service," which I had adopted for my scheme, should in no

way be misunderstood for conscription, but rather that it should be

looked upon simply as a personal responsibility on the part of every

youth to fit himself to take part in the defence of his country, just in

the same way as it was his duty to attend school or submit to any other

laws governing his civil and economic life.

Kingston, with whom I had many conversations, was a most keen supporter

of the Universal Service system. He agreed at once with the proposition

as regarded the amalgamation of the Volunteers with the partially paid

forces, and, what was more to the point, promised to find the funds

required. He was very anxious to introduce and carry through Parliament,

while he was Premier of South Australia, a system of National Service,

which, he foresaw, would sooner or later find its way into the statutes

of Federated Australia. Even so early as this Kingston was paving the way

for a united Australia. He was at that time considered, notwithstanding

his personal foibles, one of the ablest of the Australian Premiers.

He gave me instructions, confidentially, to draft two Bills, one

embodying the provision for the adoption of the universal service, the

other simply dealing with the proposed changes in organization. When the

time arrived to place the proposals before Parliament Kingston had come

to the conclusion that the expenditure involved in initiating National

Service was greater than he could ask Parliament to vote at the time. He

determined, therefore, to pigeon-hole it. The Re-organization Bill was

promptly carried by both Houses and became law. The Act of Parliament

fixed a date for the carrying out of the change. To avoid the clerical

work involved by the carrying out of the re-attesting of the whole of the

citizen forces, partially paid and Volunteer, under the new Act it was

provided that every officer, non-commissioned officer and man who did

not, in writing, notify his intention to sever his connexion with the

forces owing to the new conditions, would continue in the service, and

the date for the beginning of his period of service under the new Act,

namely, three years, would be entered in his existing attestation papers

by the respective commanding officers. If I remember rightly, not one and

a half per cent. withdrew.

The eventful day arrived on which every member of the force ceased to be

a soldier. The next day all willing to do so would be soldiers again.

That night we were dining at Government House. After dinner it happened

to strike the Governor that there were no soldiers in South Australia

that evening with the exception of myself. So lifting up his glass he

said, "Behold our army! Every soldier except one has been disbanded

to-day. He is our army. Good luck to him." And "The Army" I became to all

my friends in Adelaide, and, later on, right throughout Australia.

Jubilee Year, 1897, was now close at hand. I had been steadily at work

since my trip home in 1889, and was now finishing my fifth year as

Commandant. Everything was working smoothly, and I was asked by Kingston

if I would like to take a trip home and attend officially the Jubilee

celebrations in London. I talked it over with my wife. Our two children

were then just four and three years old. My wife thought that it would be

more enjoyable for her and for the children if we let alone the Jubilee

festivities and got six months' leave, reaching London later on in the

early summer, so that we could enjoy the autumn in Scotland and return to

Australia at the end of the year. Kingston fell in with this suggestion,

and I was granted six months' leave of absence and reappointed Commandant

for a further period of five years.

We sailed in the _Damascus_, myself and wife, little Eileen and Carlos,

my youngest sister-in-law, Geraldine, and my wife's companion, Miss Ryan,

who was specially in charge of the children. The _Damascus_, an Aberdeen

liner, was a comfortable boat; she had been a short time before fitted up

to take Sir Henry Loch to South Africa. We had chosen the Cape route to

avoid the Red Sea in the very hot weather. We spent a couple of days at

Durban and another two at Capetown, and reached London about the middle

of September. My mother and father had both passed away, and the family

properties had gone to my nephew, Rafael, who was living in Spain.

Wardhouse and Kildrummy Castle were let. My sister, Magda, Mrs. Lumsden

of Clova, which marches with Kildrummy, had asked us to stay with her.

Our plans were to go to Clova on our arrival in London, put in a couple

of months shooting, visit our old friends, then move up to London, where

my wife and the others would stay while I went to Egypt. There I hoped to

see as much as the time at my disposal would allow of Kitchener's

campaign along the Nile.

All went well, and I left Clova for London, on my way to Egypt. I arrived

at Morley's Hotel on a Saturday. Next afternoon I received an urgent

telegram to return at once, as my wife had been taken suddenly very ill.

I took the first train. The telegrams I received on the journey north

were very disquieting. The news on arriving at Aberdeen made me lose all

hope of seeing her alive again. Providence was, however, kind. The crisis

passed, and the doctors assured me she would recover in time. My plans,

of course, had to be altered. I gave up my intended visit to Egypt. My

wife's recovery was very slow. We had to make our journey south in

stages.

One of our stopping-places was Newcastle-on-Tyne. An amusing incident

happened there. Both my wife and myself had met in Australia that

charming and graceful actress, Grace Palotta. On our arrival at the hotel

on a cold, dark, winter's afternoon, I left my wife in a sitting-room and

went off to attend to the rest of the family. On my return she said, "Who

do you think came in just now? Grace Palotta. She is looking as pretty as

ever. She quite astonished me by telling me she is staying here with her

friend, the prince. Do try and find out who he is. It is quite exciting."

I thought surely there was some mistake, and told her so. "No," she said,

"that is just what she said. Do go to the theatre to-night, find out and

let me know all about it." So, after an early dinner, I went off to the

theatre. As I arrived there, I noticed the big posters announcing the

name of the play. The name of the play was _My Friend the Prince_. After

the performance Grace had some supper with us and a real hearty laugh

when we told her, and, in her pretty foreign way, said: "Oh, I am afraid,

Mrs. Gordon, you thought I was a very naughty girl." We met Palotta

afterwards in Australia, where she had often told this little story to

her friends, much to their amusement.

On arrival in London I took a house close to South Kensington Station. As

time passed it became evident I would have to return to Australia alone.

My wife's health still caused me grave anxiety. My leave being up, I was

obliged to depart and leave the family to follow me. I took my passage by

the P. & O. ss. _Himalaya_, Captain Bruen, and left London at the end of

1899, once again bound for Australia and returning to my old command in

Adelaide. This was my third voyage to the other end of the world. It was,

as usual, full of pleasant memories. Once again I was elected president

of the sports and amusement committee. With a good ship, a good captain,

a full passenger list, the hearty co-operation of all, and right good

weather, it was almost a record passage for comfort and enjoyment. Up to

schedule time we arrived at Albany in Western Australia.

I went ashore to call upon some of my old friends, bought an evening

paper, and went into the club. Whilst enjoying a pipe I glanced at one of

the headings: "Death of Colonel King-Harman, Military Adviser and

Inspector of Warlike Stores in London for the Australian Colonies." You

may remember that he had been appointed as a result of my visit home in

1889. He was an old Gunner friend of mine, and I had seen a good deal of

him before I left London. Only the day before my departure he had written

me a note to say that he was sorry he had taken a severe chill and would

be unable to come and see me off the next evening. Poor Harman never

recovered from that chill. It was something more serious that carried him

off in five weeks.

The possibility of my succeeding him temporarily struck me. What a chance

to return home to my sick wife at once! It was the opportunity of a

lifetime. A convention of delegates from all the colonies was at the time

sitting in Melbourne. Every Premier was attending the convention. I

hastened to the post office and wired to my old friend, Charles Cameron

Kingston, still South Australia's Premier, notifying him of King-Harman's

death, and asking him to arrange with the other Premiers to postpone the

appointment of King-Harman's successor until the _Himalaya_ reached

Melbourne, requesting permission at the same time to continue my journey

in her to Melbourne, instead of landing at Adelaide. Our steamer sailed

from Albany before I could receive an answer, so I also asked him to wire

to me at Adelaide. I felt somehow that another streak of good fortune was

coming my way. Sure enough, on arrival at Adelaide, a telegram awaited me

from Kingston, instructing me to proceed to Melbourne.

On arrival at Melbourne I at once went to Parliament House to see him,

and told him of my wife's severe illness, which had compelled her to

remain with the children in England, and I asked him to assist me in

getting Harman's appointment. He handed me a copy of my own report of

1890, recommending that an officer _on_ the active list of the Royal

Artillery should hold the position, on which recommendation the Premiers

had acted. "Now," he said, "you are not on the 'active list of the Royal

Artillery'; how can I possibly assist you?" I had had plenty of time on

the way from Albany to Melbourne to think over this difficult point,

which I had foreseen. I had my answer ready. I suggested to him that I

should be appointed on loan, as it were, from Australia, for a term of

one year, during which time I should be granted leave of absence from my

appointment of Commandant of South Australia, to which position I would

return at the end of the twelve months, and then an officer of the Royal

Artillery on the active list could be selected. It was a big concession I

was asking for, and I knew it. I said no more. I knew my man. Kingston

grasped a point quicker than any man I have ever known, except perhaps

Kitchener. Both disliked superfluous words. Well, Kingston just smiled

and said: "Come and lunch with me to-morrow. Good morning."

At lunch next day there were four of us--Kingston, Sir Edward Braddon,

Premier of Tasmania, Sir John Forrest, Premier of Western Australia, and

your humble servant. Both Sir Edward and Sir John were old friends of

mine. After lunch Kingston asked me if I knew the Premiers of New South

Wales, Victoria and Queensland well. I told him I knew George Reid (New

South Wales) very well, but I knew nothing much about the Premiers of

Victoria or Queensland personally. "Well," he said, "see George Reid at

once, tell him what you want and the reason why, and let me know what he

says about it." I saw George Reid during the afternoon, explained the

situation to him, and asked him for his support. He informed me that he

had already been approached on behalf of another officer by some of his

supporters, but had not given a definite answer, and he felt that he

could not very well support me, who was in no way connected with New

South Wales. "You see," he added, "there are six colonies concerned. Now,

have you got three Premiers to support you?" I said "Yes." (My three

friends at lunch.) "Well, then," he went on, "if I remain neutral and

decline to vote you will have three votes to two in your favour, and thus

carry the day, even if the other two vote against you." With a hearty

shake of his hand and grateful feelings I left him. In the evening I

reported to Kingston the result of my interview with George Reid. I felt

I had succeeded as regarded the inspectorship of stores. But what about

retaining my appointment as Commandant of South Australia while I was

away? I had just returned after an absence of six months. Was it likely

that the important position of Commandant was to continue to be filled by

a _locum tenens_ for a further period of one whole year? Kingston did not

keep me long in suspense. "Well done, Reid!" he said. "That settles your

going. I will see that you do not lose your appointment of Commandant as

long as I am Premier. Get straight back to Adelaide and say absolutely

nothing to anyone. Act as if you were going to stay, but be ready to get

on a steamer homeward bound as soon as you hear from me. Good-bye and

good luck." So we parted, and I found my way back to Adelaide by the

first coastal boat.

The day after my arrival there the mail steamer _Victoria_ was due to

leave, homeward bound, at midnight. In the afternoon of that day I got an

official letter from the office of the South Australian Premier notifying

me that I had been appointed Military Adviser and Inspector of Warlike

Stores for the Australian Colonies, Queensland being the only objector.

You can imagine the surprise my departure caused, but I was away in the

ss. _Victoria_, well into the Australian Bight, making westwards, when

the news of my new appointment appeared in next day's morning papers.

This was now my sixth voyage to and from Australia, and was as pleasant

as its predecessors.

CHAPTER IX

MILITARY ADVISER TO THE AUSTRALIAN COLONIES IN LONDON

On my arrival in London I found that my wife was not well. As a matter of

fact, she was anything but well. I at once removed her and the children

to Richmond Hill and set to work at my new duties. I was not prepared for

the consternation which my arrival in London caused amongst the

Agents-General of the Colonies which I was to represent. Kingston had

evidently thought it advisable not to cable, with the result that the

official notification arrived by post practically at the same time as

myself. Not having any idea that their Governments in Australia intended

to send anyone home to fill the appointment, the Agents-General had

accepted the services of another Royal Artillery officer on the Active

List to carry on pending a definite appointment being made, in accordance

with the conditions which had held when Colonel Harman was appointed.

This officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Baker, was as much surprised as anybody

when I arrived to take up the duties which he naturally thought would

devolve upon himself. My position therefore was not a very pleasant one,

but I saw no reason why, with tact and care, the unpleasantness should

not be removed. I was right in my forecast, and, before two months had

passed, my official relations with all concerned became quite

satisfactory.

There is no need, nor would it be of any special interest, to enter into

details of the many and varied duties which appertained to the

appointment. I had to buy anything, from a submarine or destroyer to

brass instruments for bands, and from the largest of guns to carbines and

bayonets and officers' whistles. The question of advising the Government

on making inquiries as to inventions was not part of my duties, but yet

hardly a week or a fortnight passed that some persistent inventor did not

find his way into my offices. The question of getting new inventions

fully considered and tested by the War Office was always a difficult one

to those who did not know the ropes, and there seemed to be a general

idea amongst these clever gentlemen that, if they could get some of the

Colonies to accept what they had to offer, it would be an easy road to

the War Office. During my time in London, however, I must say that while

several clever and very ingenious devices were brought to me, none proved

good enough to enable me to recommend their adoption.

It had been decreed by the War Office that manoeuvres on a much larger

scale than had as yet been held in England should take place during the

summer, and I looked forward with a great deal of interest to being

present thereat. There appeared to be three principal objects in carrying

them out, to give senior officers an opportunity of handling large bodies

of men actually in the field; secondly, to test the departmental

services; and thirdly, to test the possibilities and reliability of a

system of hired transport.

The invited visiting officers were quartered at the Counties Hotel,

Salisbury. Its situation was fairly convenient and it was quite a

comfortable hotel. There were to be two armies, the Northern and the

Southern, the two together numbering somewhere between 80,000 and 100,000

men and commanded respectively by the Duke of Connaught and General Sir

Redvers Buller. The period of manoeuvres lasted some eight days.

Salisbury Plain and the surrounding country was the headquarters of the

Northern Army, while the Southern Army was camped beyond the Downs to the

south-west.

From the very start of the concentration of the troops the weather

promised to be of a very trying character. The sun shone with almost

tropical force. The large bodies of troops, moving through the narrow

roadways and lanes, hemmed in by the high hedges, churned up clouds of

dust. Moving in the rear of the troops thousands of wagons of the hired

transport made matters worse. I doubt if ever a more extraordinary

collection of vehicles and beasts of burden was ever got together

anywhere in the world. Big furniture vans, drawn by four or three

wretched-looking horses, would be seen just in front of two-wheeled carts

drawn by a couple of powerful Clydesdales. The majority of the drivers,

being civilians, did much as they pleased. Once a section of the

transport was committed to a long piece of road or narrow lane without

cross-roads it simply had to go on; it couldn't turn round; it trusted to

Providence to reach its destination. I think it was the third or fourth

day that the task set to the armies was the occupation of a long ridge of

the Downs, some eight or ten miles south-west from Salisbury.

Operations were to begin at six in the morning and cease at two p.m., and

the visiting officers were attached that day to the Northern Army. The

starting points of the two armies were at about equal distances from the

objective. The point at issue was--who was to occupy the long ridge

position first? It was frightfully hot; I have never known it hotter in

England. I was glad of my Australian hat and light khaki uniform as I

rode along the ranks of the sweltering infantry; the Scotch in their

small glengarrys, the artillery with their old-fashioned forage caps, all

were smothered in dust.

As the Northern Army advanced commanding officers anxiously sought for

news of the enemy. About half-past twelve the visiting officers decided

to ask permission to push forward to the head of the advance guard and

see what was happening, for the hour to stop the battle was getting close

at hand and no enemy was in sight. We pushed forward right to the slopes

of the rising downs. Still no signs of the enemy beyond a few small

cavalry patrols, which promptly retired before those of the Northern

Army. We were taken up to the crown of the ridges.

On arrival there we could plainly see large bodies of the enemy,

evidently resting, and camping in some beautifully wooded, shady country

about three or four miles away. Apparently something had gone wrong

somewhere. While the Northern Army marched some nine or ten miles in that

awful heat, their enemies had probably not done more than three or four

miles. But the Northern Army had won the day. It had also been arranged

that--no matter which side did win the battle that day, on the next

morning the Northern Army was to retire again, fighting a rear-guard

action. Lord Wolseley was by no means pleased with the day's work. It was

reported that after listening at the usual pow-wow to what the officer

commanding the Southern Army, Buller, had to say about the movements of

his troops during the day, he expressed his opinions in fairly forcible

terms.

Operations were to commence again at six o'clock the next morning. A few

captive balloons were being used for observation purposes by both sides.

It was presumed that the Southern Army would take the opportunity, after

the comparative rest of the day before, of showing their mettle, and a

fairly ding-dong fight was expected. So we were early in the field, back

to the old ridge on the Downs, where the battle had ceased the day

before. We were not disappointed.

I personally spent some unprofitable hours up in the air. One of the

captive balloons, in charge of an engineer officer, was just being

prepared ready to ascend when the officer, whom I knew well, invited me

to go up with him. I handed my horse to the orderly and jumped into the

basket, and we were soon up some hundreds of feet in the air. It was an

interesting sight to see the southern force making its way to the attack

through the valleys between the ridges. It was not pleasing to notice a

half-squadron of cavalry suddenly emerge from under cover of a farm near

by and charge straight for the wagon of our captive balloon. I wondered

what was going to happen. Could the wagon get away out of reach in time?

It didn't seem possible. My host had no intention of being captured; he

cut off the balloon from the wagon, which was duly taken. The day turned

out as hot as the day before. There was hardly a breath of air and our

balloon hung poised over the enemy's troops now passing under it. If we

came down we would, of course, fall into their hands as prisoners. My

host was determined not to be caught and refused to come down. A couple

of batteries of the enemy's artillery quite enjoyed themselves firing at

us. I suggested to him that, if it was real business, we were in a very

awkward position, but he didn't mind. He thought his balloon was good

enough for anything except to go down, and he didn't intend to do that

until the fighting for the day was over, two o'clock in the afternoon.

And up in the air we stayed. As I had neither pipe nor tobacco and we had

nothing to eat or drink with us, I was not sorry when we set foot on

Mother Earth again. I think it was that night, if not the next, a

Saturday night, that we received a message from the headquarters of the

Duke telling us of the defeat of the Khalifa at Omdurman by the forces in

Egypt under Kitchener. It was welcome news.

Everyone knows the plight our War Office was in _re_ the supply of small

arms ammunition at the beginning of the South African War. Early in 1899

I received two orders, large in their way, totalling some five million

rounds, for the .303 magazine rifle, from Sydney and Melbourne. The rifle

ammunition Mark V was then in use, and very good ammunition it was too.

The introduction of Mark VI was under consideration, and there was a

probability of its replacing Mark V at an early date. I had been watching

with considerable interest the experiments that had been taking place

with the Mark VI, and I was personally far from satisfied that it would

be a success. I decided to supply the order with Mark V, notwithstanding

my general instructions that all stores were to be of the latest

up-to-date pattern introduced into the Service at home. As the first

consignments of the Mark V were shipped, I notified the Victorian and New

South Wales Governments of the steps I was taking. I did not hear

anything further in the matter for some two or three months when, to my

surprise, I received a cable from Victoria, asking me upon what grounds I

was sending out Mark V ammunition and not Mark VI, which, they pointed

out, they understood had been adopted at home. At the same time a member

of one of the firms which were supplying the ammunition called and

informed me that his firm had received an order direct from the

Government of Victoria for two million rounds of Mark VI ammunition,

requesting them to cease forwarding any more Mark V. I immediately cabled

to Victoria that I was not satisfied with the Mark VI ammunition, that I

expected it to be withdrawn at an early date, and that, if they chose to

place orders direct with the contractors on their own, I would accept no

responsibility of any kind in the matter. In the meantime, what was to be

done with the still very large balance of Mark V ammunition which was

ready for shipment? My friend, the member of the firm, was just as aware

as I was that Mark VI ammunition which they had then begun to supply to

the War Office was not by any means likely to prove satisfactory. He

actually seemed rather pleased that the large balance of Mark V was now

practically left on his hands and would be replaced by the Mark VI. As

the inspection of the Mark VI would naturally take some considerable time

before it could be passed and dispatched to Australia, there was no

hurry, as far as I could see, to communicate further by cable with

Victoria. I may mention that the Government of New South Wales had

accepted the situation and were content to receive their regular supplies

of Mark V, having accepted my suggestion.

Then my day came. The National Rifle Meeting was held in Scotland. I

voyaged up to watch for myself. It was not long before serious complaints

began to be made, not only as regards the actual results of the shooting

on the targets, but, what was much more serious, the bursting of two or

three barrels and the blowing out of several breech-blocks. I was quite

satisfied and returned to London. Courts of Inquiry were ordered by the

Government, but, what was more important, similar happenings occurred

later at the Bisley Meeting. The Council immediately took up the matter

with the Government. Result: Mark VI ammunition condemned. Then went a

cable to Australia through the Press Association:

"Mark VI ammunition condemned by Government.--The information sent

to the Colonies by the Inspector of Warlike Stores confidentially

has proved correct."

Next day I received the following from Melbourne: "Is the cable published

here to-day with reference to Mark VI ammunition true? If so, please

rescind as soon as possible the order for two million rounds placed with

the contractors." There was nothing more to be done but to try to induce

the contractors to forgo their order for two million Mark VI and let us

have the Mark V. I think it is to their credit to state that they at once

met my wishes in this respect, and an awkward situation was saved. This

happened only some two months before the declaration of war against South

Africa. The War Office, having decided earlier in the year on the

adoption of the Mark VI, had placed very large orders with the

contractors, probably for some forty to fifty million rounds, and these

orders had been, to a large extent, executed, while, naturally, the

stocks of Mark V had been practically depleted. The result was that the

War Office found itself in the critical position of entering upon a war

with actually a shortage of rifle ammunition. It will be remembered that

the Government of India came to the rescue.

I had now been in London over a year. The question of my return had not

been raised. Kingston was still Premier, and my _locum tenens_, a Colonel

Stuart, continued acting for me as Commandant in South Australia.

CHAPTER X

OFF TO THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR

Towards the middle of September, 1899, rumours of war began to spread.

Early in October war was declared. At that time a squadron of the New

South Wales Lancers, which had been sent home by voluntary subscription,

was undergoing a course of training in England under the command of

Captain Cox. The officers and men volunteered, and they were the first

Australian mounted troops to land in South Africa.

I was naturally very anxious to go out myself, so I cabled to the

Governments of the several colonies for the necessary leave. They

refused, for the very good reason that as war had been declared it was

just the very time when they required the services of their military

adviser in England. I could not quarrel with their decision. I thought

once more of my old friend, Charles Cameron Kingston, cabled to him

explaining the position, and suggested that I should resign my

appointment as Inspector of Warlike Stores, return to my dormant

appointment as Commandant of South Australia, and on my arrival in

Adelaide obtain permission to proceed to South Africa as a special

service officer, if this could be arranged without my having to give up

the Commandantship. I felt fairly certain of securing a position on the

staff of the Commander-in-Chief in connexion with the mounted contingents

of the Australian colonies, which were being so freely offered by all of

them to the Mother Country. Kingston once again met my wishes. I cabled

my resignation to the Governments I was serving, and, being fortunate

enough to secure first-rate accommodation for the wife and family, set

sail for Australia a few days after war was declared, in the middle of

October, in what was then the finest passenger boat to Australia, the

German ship the ss. _Bremen_. And so began my seventh journey across the

world.

Our passage in the _Bremen_ was as usual a fair weather one, but it was

fraught with much anxiety as regarded the progress of the war. The ports

of call of our ship were Genoa, Port Said and Aden, Colombo, and then

Western Australia. As we arrived at each of these ports the news from

South Africa became graver and graver. Siege of Ladysmith, siege of

Mafeking, siege of Kimberley. Rebellion in Cape Colony. Then Colenso and

Spion Kop. We felt somewhat relieved on arrival at Freemantle, where the

news met us that General Buller was to be superseded in the command by

Lord Roberts. On reaching Adelaide I saw Kingston, my friendly Premier,

and told him that it was my intention, if he approved, to take my family

on to my wife's relations in Melbourne, return at once to Adelaide, raise

the first mounted contingent, and sail with it for South Africa. Once

again Kingston fell in with my views. I took the family to Melbourne and

returned to Adelaide.

The excitement throughout the Australian colonies at that time, the

middle of December, 1899, was intense. Just previous to leaving England

by the _Bremen_ I had been informed by the War Office, and by the

Australian Governments I then represented, that they had offered

contingents for service in South Africa to the Home Government. I had

called at the War Office and had been told that the offer had been

accepted, but that it had been decided to accept infantry and not mounted

units. I pointed out to those in authority at the time that they had

quite failed to appreciate the temper of the offer of the Australian

colonies. The men who wished to volunteer were not in the least anxious,

in fact, they really had the strongest objection, to walk about South

Africa; they and their horses were one, and even if they couldn't shoot

or be drilled in time to fulfil the conditions of a trained cavalryman,

at any rate they could ride like hell and shoot straight.

The War Office people thought I was rather romancing. I tried to disabuse

them of this idea and ventured a step farther. I said that I almost

believed that the refusal of the War Office to accept mounted troops

might be taken absolutely as an insult. I was told that they valued my

opinions and wished they had heard them before their final decision had

been cabled out, but it could not be altered. The War Office had its way.

The first contingent, therefore, raised in the colonies were trained as

infantrymen, dispatched to South Africa, and on arrival there were formed

into one regiment, every member of which was a first-class rider but a

bad walker. They were shifted about hither and thither, gained no

particular laurels, and rested not until the day came when they were

turned into a mounted regiment, shortly before the arrival at Cape Town

of the first mounted units. No more infantry units were dispatched from

the colonies. The War Office had repented.

One of the reasons given to me for their preference for infantry had been

that it had been considered inadvisable to put upon the Australians the

extra expenditure that would be incurred in equipping mounted corps. To

say the least of it, a very childish one.

I found on reaching Adelaide that there were enough applications already

handed in at the military staff office to organize five or six squadrons,

instead of one. It became a question simply of selecting the best.

Married men were at once barred. Our unit was one squadron, a hundred and

twenty officers and men. The remark which had been made to me in the War

Office, previous to my leaving London, with reference to putting the

colonies to extra expenditure in sending mounted troops, came back to my

mind. I called on my old friend, Mr. Barr Smith, and I suggested to him

that it would be patriotic on his part if he permitted me to notify to

the Government that he was willing to bear the expense of supplying some

of the horses required for the contingent. "Most certainly," he answered.

"You can tell the Government that they can draw upon me for the amount

required for the purchase of the whole of the horses." This was a winning

card in my hand. I called upon Kingston next morning and told him of the

offer. I further told him that I had already heard whispers of probable

opposition to my so soon relinquishing my position as Commandant after my

long absence from Adelaide. "Don't bother," said Kingston. "You are now

going to fight for us; leave it to me. I am announcing to the House this

afternoon the Government's decision to send this first mounted

contingent. You have put in my hands a trump card--Mr. Barr Smith's

generous offer. It will be received with the greatest enthusiasm by the

members. I shall tell them your part in it and then immediately announce

that I have selected you to proceed at once to South Africa as a special

service officer, representing South Australia."

It all happened that afternoon just as he had told me. The House cheered

and cheered as Mr. Barr Smith's offer--following on the notification to

members that it was the decision of the Government to send the mounted

contingent--was announced. Then followed the singing of "God Save the

Queen." Before they had time to settle down Kingston told them I had been

selected as a special service officer for duty in South Africa. More

cheers. All was well. My long absence was forgotten. All were glad to see

me back. All pleased that the opportunity was being given me to go on

active service. I was presented with two splendid chargers, a bay and a

blue roan, a sword, revolver, binoculars, and enough knitted mufflers,

Crimean helmets, housewives and the like to last me a lifetime. The only

thing to be done was to select the men, purchase the horses, and get

ready to embark as soon as a transport could be secured. Those selected

were first-class riders accustomed to the care of horses--most of them

members of the Mounted Rifles, and men who could shoot straight. Within

three or four weeks we should be on board the transport, and could polish

up a little their drill and discipline during the voyage.

We arranged with the New South Wales and Western Australian Governments

for the ss. _Surrey_ to convey our three contingents to Cape Town. We

totalled some three hundred and eighty officers and men and four hundred

horses. One squadron from a New South Wales cavalry regiment, one South

Australian Mounted Rifles squadron, and a similar one from Western

Australia. The _Surrey_, with the full complement on board, left

Fremantle, in Western Australia, in January, 1900. I can still shut my

eyes and see the immense crowds that wished us "God speed," and hear the

continuous cheers of the people of Adelaide on the day when we marched

through the principal streets of the city on our way to embarkation. It

was one of those events that one does not forget. Once more I was on my

way across the seas to the other side of the world. My eighth voyage.

Fine weather across the Indian Ocean. I was not in charge of the troops

on board the ship. I was merely a passenger, as a special service

officer. Lieut.-Colonel Parrott, a New South Wales engineer officer, was

in command. I had particularly arranged for this, as I had heard of the

difficulties that had arisen in connexion with the transport of the first

infantry units, and had considered it more advisable to act as a sort of

support to the officer commanding than to be actually in command myself.

This plan turned out quite successful.

A finer lot of sports I shall probably never travel with again. Among

them we had men of all classes--judges' sons, doctors' sons, squatters'

sons, bootmakers' sons, butchers' sons, all happy together, and all more

than ready for their job. Amongst our South Australian lot was one Jack

Morant. He was not an Australian born, but had come out from the old

country a few years before, and had an uncle at a place called Renmark,

up the River Murray, where the Chaffey brothers, the irrigation experts

from California, had established a fruit colony and had induced several

retired officers from the old country to settle. Amongst these was

Lieut.-Colonel Morant, Jack's uncle. The latter had been promoted to the

rank of corporal, and had been christened by his comrades "Corporal

Buller," from the somewhat extraordinary likeness he bore to General Sir

Redvers. I will tell you more about Jack Morant and his unfortunate end

later on. Those of you who read the _Sydney Bulletin_ in the days before

the South African War may remember several typical Australian poems that

appeared in that clever journal over the name of "The Breaker." "The

Breaker" was Jack Morant.

CHAPTER XI

WITH LORD ROBERTS IN SOUTH AFRICA

It was on February 25, 1900, that the _Surrey_ anchored in Cape Town Bay.

As soon as the usual formalities were completed I was taken off in a

special launch, and on landing proceeded to report myself to General

Forestier Walker, at the time G.O.C. Lines of Communication.

Lord Roberts, who had superseded General Sir Redvers Buller as

Commander-in-Chief, was, I think, at that very date hammering Cronje at

Paardeberg. On the voyage over in the _Surrey_ I had prepared a scheme to

submit to Lord Roberts for the organization and employment of the

numerous mounted contingents that had been offered by Australia and New

Zealand. We little thought then that over 16,000 officers and men and

horses would land in South Africa from Australia alone before the end of

the war. General Forestier Walker, after talking over with me the details

of the scheme, thought that it would fit in with Lord Roberts' future

plans, as confidentially known to him, and he at once telegraphed to the

Commander-in-Chief, notifying him of my arrival, as well as of the fact

that I had an important proposition to put before him. We were not long

awaiting the answer. It came that evening. It was short and to the point:

"Chief will gladly see Colonel Gordon at Bloemfontein as soon as railway

opens."

A few days afterwards a further telegram arrived to the following effect:

"Colonel Gordon will proceed to Naauport as soon as possible en route for

Bloemfontein. Four horses for the above-named officer and two grooms to

be sent on after him the very first opportunity." I at once left Capetown

and, passing through Naauport, reached Norval's Pont, where the railway

crossed from the Cape Colony to the Orange Free State. A really

magnificent railway bridge had been completed a few years before, but

just previous to my arrival the Boers, retreating northwards across the

river, had blown up the fine piers supporting the two centre spans. The

bridge was useless. However, the South African Railway Pioneer Corps had

with extraordinary rapidity thrown a pontoon bridge across the river.

Though Lord Roberts had by this time taken Bloemfontein, having marched

across and fought his way from the west at Paardeberg to the east at

Bloemfontein, the southern portion of the Orange River State from the

bridge-head at Norval's Pont to Bloemfontein was still in the hands of

the Boers, and it was through this country that the railway line made its

way northwards to Bloemfontein. On my arrival at Norval's Pont the

railway officer in charge informed me that I would have to wait until a

train came to the other side of the river from Bloemfontein. I had to

wait two days only. In the meantime, Lord Kitchener, accompanied by the

general manager of the Bank of South Africa at Capetown, reached Norval's

Pont, and crossed the river. A fourth passenger turned up. It was Rudyard

Kipling, if I remember rightly.

The journey to Bloemfontein did not occupy many hours. We arrived in the

evening, just before dark. I made my way to one of the hotels. Curiously

enough, somehow, I caught sight of a flagstaff over the hotel. It had a

flag on it but it was evidently tied down to the pole. After arranging

for my room at the hotel I got on to the roof to see what the flag was,

and found it to be an Orange River Colony flag, which had evidently been

overlooked by the authorities. I took possession of it.

Next morning I reported myself at headquarters. In the train journey from

Norval's Pont I had had an opportunity of describing my proposition to

Lord Kitchener and talking it over with him. As a result, when by

appointment I saw Lord Roberts, he had had the matter put before him and

had agreed to its being carried out, with a few alterations as regards

detail. The chief points of the scheme were as follows:--

(1). That it was desirable to concentrate the strongest possible force of

mounted men then available in South Africa at Bloemfontein.

(2). That all further arrivals of mounted units from over the seas, or

raised locally in South Africa, should be sent on to Bloemfontein without

delay.

(3). That these units should be equipped as mounted infantry--that is to

say, that their chief arm should be the service rifle.

(4). That to each corps formed a strong unit of Imperial Mounted Infantry

should be attached.

(5). That these corps should be of sufficient numerical strength to act

as independent columns if desired.

(6). That whatever might be the strength of the contribution of any

individual Dominion or Colony, it would form one unit, under the command

of its own senior officer.

(7). That, in grouping together the units of the Colonies, care should be

exercised in their selection, so as to avoid any possible likelihood of

friction.

(8). That the officers selected to the commands should be the most

experienced in mounted infantry work, and young enough.

(9). That a special staff officer should be appointed to organize the

proposed mounted corps.

(10). That such a staff officer should be charged with the provision and

maintenance of the horses required and deal directly with the officers in

charge of remount depots.

(11). That such staff officer should be entrusted with the responsibility

of maintaining the units in an efficient state as regarded arms,

equipment, saddlery and clothing, and that, in order to successfully

carry out these duties, he should be permitted to draw all supplies

necessary in bulk direct from the Ordnance Depots at Capetown.

(12). That, in order to carry out this last suggestion as to supplies,

etc., the staff officer in question should have authority to arrange with

the General Officer Commanding the main Line of Communications for such

train services as might be required and establish his own depots wherever

necessary, and detail the personnel for the efficient service thereof.

Lord Kitchener recommended the propositions. Lord Roberts gave them his

approval and requested me to see him again on the next day, when he

desired me to submit to him in writing all details of the proposed

organization for his future consideration. In the meantime it was

necessary to find some suitable premises to be the headquarter offices of

the new corps. In the afternoon I looked round Bloemfontein and was

fortunate to secure quite a large residence belonging to a near relation

of President Steyn.

In preparing the tables of personnel as desired by the Commander-in-Chief,

I restricted myself to the contingents that had already arrived and

those on their way from the Australian Colonies. Next day I submitted the

details I had worked out. They were approved, and I was asked if I had

sufficient knowledge of the units already in South Africa and those

expected to arrive from Canada and New Zealand. If so they were to be

included in the scheme. I had not any particular difficulty in carrying

out Lord Roberts' wishes in this respect as, during my few days' stay in

Capetown, while I was waiting to proceed to Bloemfontein, I had asked

for and had been supplied with that very information by General Forestier

Walker's staff officers.

There were sufficient companies of the Imperial Mounted Infantry

scattered about in the country to form four regiments of four companies

each. So that, by forming four separate corps, a regiment of Imperial

troops was available for each. In working out the distribution of the

Overseas Contingents it was found that by allotting (a) to the First

Corps the whole of the Canadians; (b) to the second the New South Wales

and Western Australian contingents; (c) to the third the Victorian, South

Australian and Tasmanian contingents, and (d) to the fourth the

Queenslanders and New Zealanders, each corps would number some fifteen

hundred officers and men without the departmental troops attached.

The above distribution was approved. I was then appointed Chief Staff

Officer for Overseas Colonials on Lord Roberts' Staff, and ordered to

assemble all the units concerned and organize them at Bloemfontein with

as little delay as possible into corps as above. Distinguished mounted

infantry officers were selected to command the four corps which were to

be known as a brigade, namely, Alderson, Henry, Pilcher and De Lisle.

Shortly afterwards orders were issued for a similar organization to be

carried out in the case of the mounted units raised in South Africa to be

likewise called a brigade, the two brigades forming a division. General

Hutton was selected for the command of the Overseas Brigade, General

Ridley for the South African, and General Ian Hamilton for Divisional

Commander.

Quite three-fourths of the proposed strength of the Overseas Brigade was

encamped on the lower slopes of Signal Hill within four weeks of my

receiving my instructions.

By May 7 I had established my depots at Capetown and Bloemfontein and had

succeeded in re-equipping our brigade as well as obtaining the greater

portion of the horses required. The remainder were arriving in batches

each day, and I had accumulated sufficient stores of all kinds to attend

to their wants on arrival.

Hutton arrived and took command of his brigade; a real fine lot of men

they were, too. The horses were good and in fine fettle. When on parade

it was quite difficult to differentiate between the four corps. They were

an equally strong, hardy lot of men, clear-eyed, sitting their horses as

only the Colonials can.

I had known Hutton well, as you know, during his period of command in New

South Wales. After leaving New South Wales he had put in three years as

General Officer Commanding in Canada. If there was one branch of the

Service which he dearly loved, it was the mounted rifles. I don't

remember any general ever looking so happy and contented as he did on the

day he took command, and I was not surprised. I was proud enough of them

myself. What valuable work they did afterwards in the field was fully

appreciated by the Commander-in-Chief and the other troops alongside of

whom they fought during the campaign.

During our stay at Bloemfontein I had several opportunities of discussing

with Lord Roberts and Kitchener the scheme for universal service which I

had years before prepared at Adelaide. They were both very keenly

interested in it, and we talked it over from every point of view. Lord

Roberts considered it eminently suitable and most desirable, especially

when remembering the deep-rooted objection that existed to military

conscription at home and in the Colonies.

CHAPTER XII

IN COMMAND OF A MOUNTED COLUMN

On the day before he left Bloemfontein Lord Roberts sent for me and asked

me how many of the Overseas Brigade had been unable to march out of

Bloemfontein. I informed him that taking into account the sick and

convalescent, two or three units which had only just arrived, and some

for whom I was awaiting delivery of horses from the Remount Depot, in all

somewhere between seven and eight hundred men. He also asked me to

ascertain as soon as possible how many had been left behind belonging to

General Ridley's brigade. I did so, and found that they had left behind

somewhere about a thousand. He said: "Very well. I now want you to put

all those details together, organize them into a mounted column, equip

them, and get the requisite number of horses within a week or ten days if

practicable. I have given instructions that your wants are to be attended

to by all the parties concerned as early as possible. You will then leave

Bloemfontein; the column will march, passing to the westward of Karee

Siding, to Brandfort. Then, with a wide sweep to the westward, returning

to the railway line at Small Deel. You will receive further orders at

Small Deel as to what route to take from that place to Kroonstad. I shall

be looking for your arrival, if all goes well with you, and I am counting

upon your arriving with between twelve and fifteen hundred horses, in

good condition, to replace the losses in horseflesh amongst the mounted

troops in my advance. I fully anticipate that as we drive the Boers

northwards on our broad front--the centre of which will be practically

the main railway line--numbers of them will break away to our flanks,

clear them, and then close in backwards in our rear to attack our lines

of communications. I don't think that they'll be expecting any mounted

columns of any strength to be following up behind. So that you have got

to watch for them and deal them a nasty blow if you come across them.

"So you understand. Your two special duties are: first, to watch the

lines of communications, and secondly, so to nurse your horses that they

may arrive as fit as possible. By the by, I don't think I have told you

that I have appointed you to command the column. I don't think it will

interfere with your other duties, as I know you've got them well in

hand."

I thanked him, but I pointed out that my greatest difficulty in equipping

the brigade had undoubtedly been to obtain suitable transport. I very

much doubted if, after the general advance from Bloemfontein, there

remained a single decent wagon or cart behind.

"Well," he said, "I know that. You must travel as light as you can. Make

use of the railway line as much as possible, and collar whatever vehicles

you can get. Good luck! I'll see you at Kroonstad."

My column altogether numbered about seventeen hundred. The night we

arrived at Brandfort the officer commanding was glad to see us. He was

expecting a surprise attack that night, but nothing happened. No doubt

the news of our arrival had reached the Boers and they had thought better

of it. On our sweep from Brandfort to Small Deel we met a good many small

parties of Boers as we went through the ranges, but they gave us no

trouble except a lot of sniping. We got a good many surrenders, and

arrived at Small Deel hale and hearty. There I received my orders to

march on to Welgelegen and thence to Kroonstad, watching the country to

the left of the railway line. As we were camped at Welgelegen two nights

afterwards I received a message from Lord Kitchener to the effect that it

had been reported that some five hundred Boers and four guns had been

seen moving in the direction of Welgelegen and that I was to do my best

to intercept them, and, in any case, in moving on to Kroonstad to proceed

on both sides of the railway line on as broad a front as the numbers at

my disposal would allow. We could hear nothing of the five hundred Boers

and four guns, so after a thorough search of the country round Welgelegen

we marched on to Kroonstad.

On arriving there I reported at headquarters. Lord Roberts informed me

that he would inspect the column next morning at 10 A.M. The

Commander-in-Chief arrived up to time. His inspection was a very short

one, his chief anxiety being the condition of the horses. Fortunately

they were in good fettle, and their condition met with his approval. He

thanked me and gave instructions to his staff officers for the future

disposition of the several units.

Before 4 P.M. that afternoon the bivouac ground was empty and my

composite column dispersed. I at once set to work to gather up the

threads of my own especial work. The first thing was to establish a depot

at Kroonstad for my brigade supplies. The next, to bespeak horses at the

Remount Depot, just established at Kroonstad. I was busy at this work the

next day when I received a message to report myself at headquarters. On

arrival there General Grierson, the Quartermaster-General, told me that

he wanted me to take up a special job at once. He added that the arrival

of my horses in good condition had enabled the Commander-in-Chief to move

on, and that he had decided to advance to Pretoria straight away. It had

been anticipated that there would not be any great opposition on the part

of the Boers, at any rate as far as the Vaal River. The advance would be

a very rapid one, especially on the part of the mounted troops forming

the two enveloping wings on both sides of the railway line.

It was therefore necessary that the transport for their supplies should

not fail during their advance. It had been arranged that General French's

cavalry, with Hutton's mounted riflemen, should advance to the westward

of the railway, and that he wanted me to take charge of their combined

transport and supply columns. I told Grierson that I was doubtful whether

I had enough experience for that sort of work. Didn't he think that

someone better fitted should be selected? Grierson told me that Lord

Roberts had suggested my name, and that he thought that was quite enough.

There was nothing more to be said.

I asked for instructions. He said "Go and see Ward and you will get

them." I went across to Colonel Ward, at the D.A.Q.M.G.'s quarters, and

saw him. He told me that the troops were advancing early next morning,

that General French's supply column was last heard of as about to leave

Welgelegen, and he had no intimation of any kind as to Hutton's supply

column.

The situation, then, was shortly this. The two mounted brigades were

leaving early in the morning of the 22nd, and expected to advance during

the day somewhere between twenty and thirty miles. One of the two supply

columns was timed to reach Kroonstad, the starting point of the two

troops, on the evening of the day of the departure of the brigades, and

required a rest, and there was no information available as to the

whereabouts of the second supply column. The outlook was not cheerful.

Having gathered a small staff I dispatched a party to hunt up Hutton's

column, with orders that they were to be hustled up to Kroonstad without

delay.

I spent the rest of the day making the necessary arrangements for the

provision of escorts for the columns, which, owing to the existing

circumstances, would be unable to move on together. It was quite evident

that French's column would have to leave Kroonstad before Hutton's, and

that owing to the rapid advance of the troops in front it would be

impossible for the two supply columns to join up en route. The only

practical solution that came to my mind was to hurry on French's column,

feed Hutton from it, and trust to be able to push forward Hutton's

column, when I got hold of it, in time to make up French's deficiencies

before he actually fell short.

Knowing that the supplies of a commanding officer in the field are always

looked upon as actually his own property, I deemed it most advisable to

obtain a written order from headquarters to carry out this plan, if

necessary. I saw Colonel Ward, and he was good enough to give me a

written order to that effect. This relieved my mind. As a matter of fact,

when we picked up the mounted brigades it did become necessary for me to

supply Hutton from French's supply column. Lieut.-Colonel Johnson, an

artillery officer, who was in command of this column, protested most

strongly against parting with any of his supplies, but, on my handing him

a copy of the D.A.Q.M.G.'s order to me, he, of course, complied. But I

knew right well what to expect next morning. I was not disappointed. I

had camped down that night between French's and Hutton's Brigades. Up to

that I had had no news of the whereabouts of Hutton's supply column, but

I knew that French would send for me very early in the morning. About

four in the morning I got news of Hutton's column. It had reached

Kroonstad from Welgelegen the evening before, and would move on as per

orders.

I need not say that it was a great relief, as it enabled me to look

forward to my forthcoming interview with French with less concern. Just

at daylight I saw a couple of lancer troopers galloping along towards my

little camp. I rode out to meet them. I knew what they wanted. They told

me they came from General French, who wished to see the officer who had

borrowed his supplies the evening before. Could I tell him where they

would find him? I told them it was all right, that I was the officer they

wanted, and they could lead the way. I shall not forget that morning. We

were in the vicinity of a place called Essenbosch. It was a typical South

African fine weather morning. The frost was on the ground. The sun was

just rising, but not a cloud in the sky. A big plain. Not a tree; all

clear veldt for miles. The two brigades were on the move. It was as

pretty a sight as any soldier could wish to see.

After three or four miles' ride I reached General French and his staff.

Our conversation was brief but to the point.

"Are you the officer by whose orders supplies were taken from my column

last evening?"

"I am, sir." And, pulling out my pocket-book, I produced Colonel Ward's

written order.

"Just understand that I allow nobody to borrow or take my supplies in the

field. If my troops go one hour short of supplies you will hear from me

again. Good morning."

"Good morning, sir," I said, and rode back to my camp.

I had noticed a staff officer looking hard at me under his helmet. I

suddenly recognized him. It was my old school chum at the Oratory, Edmund

Talbot, the Duke of Norfolk's brother. I had not seen him since I had

left school. We were glad to meet again. The world is small. Then off

they went, and I was left behind to work out my problem.

At the time Hutton's column was some forty miles in the rear. I had two

days' more supplies left in French's column. The question was whether I

would succeed in hurrying up Hutton's column sufficiently fast in four

days to pick up the advancing troops.

I had information from headquarters that Lord Roberts intended to get at

any rate some of his troops across the River Vaal from the Orange Free

State into the Transvaal on May 24, Queen Victoria's birthday, as he

particularly wished to cable to her, on that day, the news of the

complete occupation of the Orange Free State and the entry of his troops

into the Transvaal. This meant an advance at the rate of some twenty-five

miles a day on the part of French's and Hutton's brigades. Fortunately

Hutton's column was enabled, but, indeed, at very heavy loss in oxen and

mules, to reach French's as it emptied its last wagon.

By selecting the fittest of the draught animals left belonging to the

emptied column, and the fittest of those in Hutton's column, we were able

to push on, and, four days afterwards, on the evening of May 24, when a

few cavalry actually did cross the River Vaal, at a place called Parisj

to the westward of the railway line, the last two days' rations reached

French's brigade headquarters half an hour before scheduled time. The job

was over. I should be sorry to say how many animals were left on the road

and how long it took the empty wagons, of which there were some eight

hundred, to return to the base with their sorely depleted teams. For the

previous four days and nights I just rested and slept when and where I

could, sometimes for an hour, sometimes for two or three, but you may

imagine what a good night's rest myself and my much harried and worried

staff enjoyed that night after drinking the toast of the day, "God bless

our Queen." I didn't think it necessary to go and see General French

again.

Next morning I started across country towards Vereeniken, the border

station of the Transvaal. I reached there in safety, though I had to

cross a portion of the country in advance of our own troops. I reported

myself at headquarters, saw Grierson and asked him, as a special favour,

not to give me the charge of any more supply columns in the near future.

He was kind enough to give me a short note from Lord Roberts, personally

thanking me for the good result of the two special jobs he entrusted to

my care from the time he had left Bloemfontein.

[Illustration: Viscount Kitchener in Field-Marshal's Uniform]

After the Battle of Belfast, about August 25, the organization of the

brigade was practically broken up, and there was no further necessity for

the special post to which I had been appointed as Chief of the Staff for

Overseas Colonials. On Lord Roberts' departure for England I left in the

ss. _Moravian_ for Adelaide, making my ninth voyage across the world.

CHAPTER XIII

SOME SOUTH AFRICAN REMINISCENCES

I never enjoyed better health than I did during the twelve months when

the hard veldt was my bed and the deep, dark, starry night was the roof

over my head. No one can wish for a more healthy climate than that of the

Orange River Colony during the dry season. I was only twice hit; once

near Karree Siding when a pom-pom shell burst just under my horse and

took off the heel of one of my boots; the second time a sniper's bullet

went through my coat sleeve without touching me. But I was unfortunate

otherwise. One night I was riding along the veldt on a horse which had

been presented to me when I left Adelaide by a friend of mine, one of the

best horsemen in South Australia, Stephen Ralli, which we had christened

Bismarck. We suddenly came to the edge of a dry donga with, of course,

rotten sides. Down we had to go, and down we went. For a moment I had no

idea whether we were being flung into a river or into a dry channel. It

happened to be a dry channel, some sixteen feet deep and about the same

width. We hit the bottom hard. I was sent rolling off, Bismarck fell on

his head and broke his neck, turning over on his side. I picked myself up

and could find no bones broken, and I called out to some of my men who

had seen us disappear and had halted on the edge. They were glad to hear

me call out. The question was then, how to get out of the donga. The

banks were steep. So, unhooking the horses out of one of the Cape carts,

they joined up the traces and I was safely hauled up. I did not for some

time afterwards really feel any ill results from my fall. In fact I had

forgotten all about it. But, later on, I found that I suffered a good

deal when riding and that I had received an internal injury which

afterwards caused me considerable trouble.

I shall never forget the constant and uniform kindness which I met at the

hands of Lord Kitchener. Many and very different opinions of Lord

Kitchener's capabilities as a soldier and of his temperament as a man

have been expressed. I formed my own opinion in both capacities from

actual and continuous contact with him in his work. He was a silent man.

Talk was of no value to him when it wasn't to the point. He possessed a

peculiar but very useful gift of getting at the kernel of a subject,

seizing its meaning and promptly making up his mind what action he was

going to take. If he wanted any further information on any point he asked

you for it. If he didn't want it, he did not thank you for volunteering

to give it. He was a master of detail. He was forceful in his

opinions--too forceful for those who disagreed with him. He may not have

been too generous in giving open praise, but he never forgot those who

had done him good service. As to whether he was a great general I have no

opinion to offer, but he could always be depended upon to carry out

whatever he took in hand.

During his trip to Tasmania, years later on, at the time of his

inspection of the Forces of the Australian Colonies, a Light Horse Camp

was being held at a place called Mona Vale belonging to Major Eustace

Cameron who commanded the Light Horse. The homestead was a fine modern

house. Mrs. Cameron had arranged for a large party of young people during

the period of the camp. Lord Kitchener was the guest of Cameron for the

day and night of his inspection. After dinner that evening a small dance

was held. Songs with choruses were sung between the dances, and perhaps

nobody enjoyed himself so much as Lord Kitchener. Later on in the

evening, or rather in the early hours of the morning, he told us several

good stories and much hearty laughter filled the smoking-room. Lord

Kitchener was no woman-hater.

War has not always a grave side. Interesting events, and sometimes even

amusing ones, intervene. Some of them now come to my mind. In the early

part of the war Capetown had become overrun with men in officers'

uniforms and many ladies, most of whom were by way of being attached to

voluntary and other hospitals. Most of these ladies were amateur, not

qualified nurses. Mount Nelson Hotel was their chief resort. While a very

large building it was unable to house the majority of them. They were

scattered about throughout the city in other hotels and boarding-houses.

Yet Mount Nelson was _the_ place where all met.

Each night the resources of the Mount Nelson were strained. Dinner

parties, music and dancing were the order of the day. Tables had to be

engaged for days previously. A night arrived when the festivities were at

their height. Dinner had begun. The large dining-room was full to

overflowing, with the exception of one small table set for two in the

middle of the room. The _entrees_ were being served and the band had just

finished a spirited selection.

The babble of tongues was all over the room when in walked two gentlemen

in uniform, preceded by the manager of the hotel, making their way to the

empty table set for two. The babble of tongues began to subside. The

first officer following the manager was a tall man with rather a severe

look in his eyes. It happened to be Lord Kitchener, followed by his

personal private secretary. For a moment there came a dead silence,

immediately relieved by the strains of the band beginning an operatic

overture and the dinner proceeded. At the end of dinner all officers in

uniform were notified to interview a staff officer previous to leaving

the hotel. Within two days the number of officers frequenting the Mount

Nelson Hotel was reduced to a minimum. A couple of days afterwards the

manager informed me that he had been instructed the night of the fateful

dinner to give notice to all officers in uniform then staying at the

hotel who could not produce a permit to vacate their rooms. Steps were

also taken to inquire into the positions held by many of the amateur lady

nurses, and those whose services were deemed to be superfluous were

provided with return passages to Europe. Thus ended this episode.

[Illustration: _Photo: Shier, Melbourne_

THE COMMONWEALTH MILITARY BOARD, 1914

_Standing_: Colonel Wallace, R.A.A., Master of Ordnance; Colonel Selheim,

C.B., Quartermaster-General; Colonel Chauvel, C.B., Adjutant-General.

_Seated_: Brigadier-General J. M. Gordon, C.B., Chief of the General

Staff; Mr. Laing, Financial Member.]

An amusing incident occurred at a place called Derdepoort, some ten miles

outside Pretoria, where one of our columns, under General Hutton, was

holding a section of the defences of the capital. I had dispatched their

supplies of winter clothing to them, and it was decided to issue them on

a Sunday afternoon. Amongst the thousands of cases that my depots were

handling were many containing presents of tobacco, pipes, books, and so

on, to the men of the contingents. When the unpacking of those that had

arrived at Derdepoort had taken place on the Sunday afternoon it was

discovered that several very large ones contained women's and children's

garments of all kinds and descriptions. The Tommies were not slow in

appreciating the situation. The sounds of hearty laughter were soon

ringing throughout the camp. I heard it in my tent, where I was taking a

quiet afternoon nap. I went out to see what was happening. It was indeed

a quaint sight. An amateur fancy dress ball was being held, and anything

more comical it is difficult to imagine. The explanation of the arrival

of the costumes was soon made clear. An association of ladies had been

formed in New Zealand with the object of supplying clothing for the Boer

women and children in the refugee camps that had been established by us

for them in South Africa. The cases containing the clothing had been

forwarded to Derdepoort by mistake.

During Lord Roberts's stay in Pretoria it was discovered that a plot was

set on foot to kidnap the Commander-in-Chief. It was, however, nipped in

the bud. One of the leaders was an officer of the Transvaal State

Permanent Artillery. The plot, of course, failed and the officer was

brought to trial and duly shot. Tommy enjoyed his bit of fun over the

attempt to kidnap Lord Roberts. At that time Lady Roberts and her

daughters were at Pretoria, and the Tommies thought that it wouldn't be

so bad if they kidnapped Lady Roberts, but they had the strongest

objection to losing Bobs.

Previous to the Battle of Diamond Hill a short armistice was arranged

for. The commanding officer of the Boers opposed to us at the time was

General Louis Botha. The military situation then was a difficult one. Had

it not been that just then General De Wet, in the north-eastern part of

the Orange River Colony, had become suddenly and successfully aggressive,

it was probable that General Botha would have come to terms. However, as

the result of De Wet's action he decided to carry on. The interesting

point in the incident was the fact that General Botha's wife was selected

as our emissary. Probably it was the first time, and the last, that the

wife of an enemy's general acted in such a capacity.

On our arrival in Pretoria the whole of the conditions appertaining to

the civil life of the town had to be reorganized. Previous to its

occupation by us Kruger had ordered that all Boer families who had

members serving in their forces and who occupied leased houses could do

so free of rent, while men in business with relatives fighting could

occupy their leased premises at half the usual rents. This disability on

the part of the property owners to obtain their rents was at once removed

by Lord Roberts. In order to give effect to this decision it was

necessary to appoint officials. Practically what was really required was

a sort of glorified bum-bailiff, with the necessary assistance, the

bum-bailiff holding a position similar to that of a magistrate. I was

asked to suggest the name of a senior officer of the Australians who

would be suitable. I did so. But the point arose by what name was the

appointment to be designated? I don't remember who was the happy

originator of the name, but it shortly appeared in General Orders that

Colonel Ricardo, of the Queensland Forces, had been appointed "High

Commissioner of Ejectments" at Pretoria. Surely a name worthy of Gilbert

and Sullivan.

I was lunching one day at the Pretoria Club when Bennet Burleigh, the

well-known war correspondent, told me that he had just lost the services

of his dispatch rider and asked me to recommend him a good daring rider

and first-class bushman to take his place. All through life I have found

that trifles often have serious consequences. I just happened, on my way

to the club, to have seen crossing the square Morant, otherwise Corporal

Buller, of the South Australian Contingent. I had not seen him for some

considerable time. I bethought myself at once that Morant would be just

the man to fit the billet. If I had not happened to see him I should

certainly not have thought of him and Morant's career might have been a

very different one. I told Burleigh that Morant was a gentleman, a good

rider and bushman, and I didn't think he personally feared anything.

Burleigh thanked me and offered to take him at once. Next morning Morant

became his dispatch rider.

Occasionally, after this, during the advance to Koomatipoort, Morant

would turn up and pay me a visit. He usually arrived with a bundle of any

old newspapers he could get, which he very gravely and without a smile

handed over to me, hoping that they would be very welcome. But there was

a look in his eye that I knew well. "Have a whisky and soda, Morant?" I'd

say. "Well, sir, I don't think it would be so bad. I would like one very

much." He would then settle himself down comfortably, light his pipe and

start to tell me all sorts of bits of news that had come his way. I often

had but a few minutes to give him and had to leave him in possession,

telling him to look after himself and be happy. Which he did.

He was well pleased with his job, looked a typical war correspondent

himself, and was making good money. I heard no more until, some months

later, I received a note from him from England telling me that he had

been taking a short holiday and was returning to South Africa. He was

joining a friend of his, Major Hunt, and they proposed to raise an

irregular corps on their arrival. The corps was raised, the "Bushveldt

Carabiniers." This corps had nothing whatever to do with Australia. Nor

could Morant himself lay any claim to being Australian. The corps was

raised from Colonials and British, chiefly out of a job, then in South

Africa. They appear to have had somewhat of a free hand in the operations

which marked the latter portion of the campaign. Drives were taking

place. Units were scattered, and to a certain extent had to be left to

their own devices. The Bushveldt Carabiniers occupied for some time a

wild region called The Splonken. While dealing with the Boers in that

locality Major Hunt had, so it was officially reported, been murdered by

the Boers, having been induced to approach a farm house on which a white

flag was flying. The story goes that he was found lying dead on the stoep

of the farm and that his body had been mutilated. Morant swore to avenge

his friend's untimely end--it was reported that he had become engaged to

Hunt's sister during his visit to England. He determined to give no

quarter, and several prisoners who fell into his hands were promptly shot

there and then. He and four other officers were, later on, in January,

1902, court-martialled on the charge of having personally committed or

been accessory to the murder of twelve Boers. The five were found guilty,

in different degrees. Handcock, Wilton and Morant were sentenced to

death, and Morant was shot at Pretoria.

I am in a position to give a short account of Morant's last hours. When

crossing over in the ss. _Surrey_ from South Australia a man called John

Morrow, who had been my groom for a couple of years in Adelaide, had

become a close friend of Morant's. It was difficult to say why.

Practically the only thing they had in common was their love for

horseflesh. Morrow was quite an uneducated man. Morant was the opposite.

Still, friends they were. When the Police Force for the protection of

Pretoria was raised the majority of the men selected came from the

Australians, and Morrow was one of them. Later on he had been appointed

one of the warders at the jail. As bad fortune would have it, he was

given charge of Morant and was with him the evening before he was shot. I

had a long letter from Morrow, later on, enclosing a photograph of the

officers concerned, which had been taken, evidently, about the time that

the corps was raised. On the back of it was written in pencil: "Dear

Jack. To-morrow morning I die. My love to my pals in Australia.--Morant."

It was probable that these were the last words that Morant wrote. Morant

died as he had lived. He faced his end bravely.

Part III

CHAPTER I

ORGANIZING THE COMMONWEALTH OF AUSTRALIA

On my arrival at Adelaide I at last resumed my duties as Commandant after

three and a half years' absence. The Government of South Australia did me

the honour to promote me to the rank of brigadier-general, and the

Governor informed me that I had received the Companionship of the Order

of the Bath for my services in South Africa.

The Act to constitute the Commonwealth of Australia received the Royal

assent on June 10, 1900. The provisions that had been considered in

framing it had received lengthy and most careful consideration on the

part of the colonies concerned. There had been no hurry and no

unnecessary speeding up. The history of each of the colonies tells us

that they had always worked on constitutional lines, and that they had

not been slow in adopting measures which had proved of benefit and a

credit to those who first put them on the statute books. No point that

might create serious discussion, or mar the initial success of the

Commonwealth had been overlooked. The ablest brains of all the colonies

had worked in unison, a great achievement in these days of selfishness

and personal greed.

Everything was in readiness. The elections for the Commonwealth

Parliament took place, and the first Government was formed. Sir William

Lyne was then Premier of the Mother State. He was charged with the

formation of the first Ministry, but was not successful in his task. The

responsibility then fell upon the shoulders of Sir Edmund Barton, who

gathered round him what was at the time called "the Ministry of all the

Talents." The Premier of practically every State was included. Then came

March 1, 1901, when the actual constitutional functions of the

Commonwealth started. For some time previously, in fact even before the

Act had received Royal assent, the question who was to hold the

all-important appointment of Governor-General had been exercising the

public mind. In Australia itself there seemed to be only one opinion. The

Earl of Hopetoun was easily favourite.

It may be safely said that no Governor of any of the Australian colonies

up to that time had so successfully represented the Throne. Those who

were in Melbourne on his arrival when he became Governor of Victoria well

remember a man of somewhat light build, middle height, pale,

clean-shaven, youthful in appearance. A few minutes' conversation with

him satisfied one of his affable ways and genial disposition. There was

nothing hard in his features, but the lines about the lower part of his

face would set firmly and resolutely when required, while his eyes, when

looking at you straight in the face, left no doubt of his strength of

character. A man of parts, a keen sportsman and a reliable personal

friend. From the very first day of his arrival both his charming countess

and himself won the hearts of the people. One may almost say that it was

love at first sight, if this phrase can be applied to popular feeling.

The outward signs of the approval spontaneously given to the appointment

ripened during his term of office into personal affection, which was

returned by both the holders of the high office, and became deeper with

each year of their stay in Melbourne. The sister colonies were not slow

in appreciating the good opinion formed of him by the Victorians.

Whenever he visited the neighbouring Governors he received splendid

welcome. When his term of office expired and he returned home he carried

with him the good wishes of all. It is not to be wondered at, therefore,

that his appointment as the first Governor-General was looked upon as a

most desirable one.

The Government had decided that the Governor-General's first landing in

Australia should be at the capital of the Mother Colony, New South Wales,

and it had been arranged that the then flagship of the naval squadron in

Australia, the _Orlando_, should meet the mail steamer on which Their

Excellencies were travelling, at Adelaide, and convey them to Sydney

Harbour. I remember well the morning the steamer arrived at Adelaide. We

had heard by cable from Western Australia that His Excellency was

anything but well, but we were not prepared to see him looking so ill. It

was with difficulty that he was transferred to the _Orlando_, and we

wondered whether he would recover sufficiently to take his part in the

arduous functions ahead of him. However, though always somewhat on the

delicate side, he was full of grit and determination, and, when the time

came, he was able to fulfil all his obligations, much to the delight of

everybody.

Sydney had surpassed itself in the arrangements to celebrate the unique

occasion. I don't remember ever seeing decorations so profuse or in such

good taste. The whole of the principal streets were a mass of colour.

Venetian masts lined the pavements at short intervals. Endless festoons

of evergreens and flowers crossed overhead. Balconies and windows were

swathed in bunting and flags; thousands of electric lamps lit up the

decorations and made the city a blaze of light. What shall I say for the

Harbour? Looking towards this from the roof garden of a club in Macquarie

Street it was a sight to be remembered but difficult to describe. The

surface of the water, smooth as oil, dark as the overhanging sky,

reflected every one of the myriad lights on the ships resting on its

surface, and the houses lining the foreshores. Endless ferry-boats, like

things of fire alive, rushed hither and thither. And when the great

display of fireworks began, and hundreds of rockets rose from ship and

shore, there seemed to be no harbour water, for the reflections of the

roaring rockets were seen apparently to dive into the earth.

The day of the "Proclamation" came. A bright and sunny morning, followed

by a real hot day. The route of the procession was over four miles long.

Immense crowds lined the streets, and all available space in the great

Centennial Park was covered with people. What a day to remember! The

Commonwealth of Australia became an actual fact. All the aspirations and

all the desires of the colonies to be one and united were consummated on

that day. What a future lies before it! Before its twentieth birthday it

has made history of which any young nation may well be proud.

The next and most important function, namely, the opening of the first

Commonwealth Parliament by H.R.H. the Duke of York, accompanied by the

Duchess (their present Majesties), took place in Melbourne. Their Royal

Highnesses, as may be remembered, travelled to Australia in the _Ophir_.

Melbourne was not to be outdone in enthusiasm or loyalty. She vied hard

with Sydney to make herself worthy of the occasion, and well she did it.

But, somehow, she seemed to lack variety in effect. This I put down--I

may be wrong--to the fact that Melbourne is a newer city than picturesque

old Sydney, and that, of course, Melbourne does not possess Sydney's

harbour. The whole of the royal functions in Melbourne, as well as those

that took place in the individual States, during the visits of their

Royal Highnesses, were carried out with complete success.

The Duke took the keenest interest in everything, and insisted on getting

information on manifold points of detail. I may refer to a case in point.

At that time the South African War was still on, but numbers of soldiers

had returned to Australia, amongst them many who had been granted

commissions while serving in South Africa. Some of the men were members

of the Permanent Forces before the war. As these forces were limited in

number, there were no vacancies to employ them as officers on their

return, so it had been decided by the Government that if they chose they

could rejoin, reverting to the rank of non-commissioned officers they had

held previously, and be granted the honorary rank of their grade on

relinquishing their appointment. The men concerned were by no means

satisfied, and the matter came before the notice of His Royal Highness.

Just before the _Ophir_ left Adelaide on the return journey to Western

Australia I was sent for on board. His Royal Highness asked me to explain

to him the position of these men. He strongly objected to the action that

had been taken, with the obvious result that the question was adjusted by

the Government quite satisfactorily. The chief officials of the

Commonwealth had been appointed, namely, the Governor-General, the Prime

Minister and the members of the Government. The Members of both Houses of

Parliament had been elected, had taken the oath of allegiance, and were

in session. The three chief departments, which were automatically to be

taken over by the Government from the States were: first, the Defence

Forces; secondly, the Customs Department; thirdly, the postal services.

As regarded the customs and the post office, these services had been, in

each State, under the able administration of competent civil servants.

The task set for the Government was simply the selection of chiefs from

amongst the officials of the existing State departments considered best

fitted for the position.

The selection of an officer for the position of Commander-in-Chief of the

Commonwealth forces was quite a different matter. While the general

organization of the forces of the individual colonies had been run on

somewhat similar lines, there were many anomalies to be eradicated and

many difficult problems to be solved. The seniority and other claims of

the whole of the officers employed on the permanent staffs of the

different States had first to be taken into consideration in the military

reorganization. This task alone necessitated much care and thought in

view of the many fairly well paid positions that would be at the disposal

of the Commander-in-Chief. Then the inauguration and organization of the

central administrative offices and State commands. Further, and

all-important, the preparation of the estimates for the yearly

expenditure at the disposal of the Commander-in-Chief, for on this

naturally depended the establishment to be maintained. Last and not

least, a man possessing the thorough confidence of the Government, an

officer of high repute, with much tact, was required. At times when I had

been riding across the veldt in South Africa with General Hutton we had

spoken of the coming Federation of the Australian colonies. He was always

watching the news from Australia. When it was evident that the Act of

Parliament initiating the Commonwealth would receive the Royal assent I

became quite satisfied that Hutton had settled in his own mind to be the

first Commander-in-Chief. As far as I remember Hutton first came to the

front in the operations in Egypt, when he made a special study of mounted

infantry. He was a firm believer in the usefulness of this--then--new

branch of the service. Later on, when he was appointed Commandant in New

South Wales, he found at hand the very material to train as mounted

riflemen. Australians, as we all know, are excellent horsemen and

first-class shots. The nature of the country, with the probable forms of

attack to which it might be subjected, lends itself to their use as

mounted riflemen rather than as cavalry. While Commandant in New South

Wales he devoted much of his energy towards the training of the mounted

troops in this direction. An able soldier, firm in purpose--somewhat too

firm sometimes--he did not spare himself in the interests of his men.

Fortunately for him he was the happy possessor of considerable private

means, which, needless to say, helps towards independence. But what about

tact? During his term as Commandant in Sydney he had several differences

with those in power. That he did not always succeed in getting his own

way goes without saying. But at any rate when he left New South Wales the

forces of that State were certainly more efficient than when he took over

the command. His experiences afterwards in Canada were undoubtedly of

value to him, though it would appear that an unfortunate disagreement

between himself and the Ministers there led to his resignation of that

appointment. Owing to these two former appointments, and to his having

had the command of the Overseas Brigade in South Africa, it was evident

that his claims to be the first Commander-in-Chief in Australia would

receive consideration. The first Minister of Defence appointed by the

Prime Minister, Sir Edmund Barton, was the Hon. Mr. Dickson, a

Queenslander, who unfortunately died within ten days of his appointment.

Sir John Forrest, who was afterwards raised to the peerage, and who since

died while on his way home to take his seat in the House of Lords, took

Mr. Dickson's place as Minister of Defence. I remember quite well dining

with him one night in Melbourne when he asked me what would I think if

Hutton were appointed Commander-in-Chief. I told him that it wasn't so

much what I thought, rather that, as he knew him personally pretty well

himself, what did he think? He answered that he thought it would be all

right. "Well," I said, "you know best. It's you, as Minister, that'll

have to battle with him."

"I won't quarrel with him. It takes two to make a quarrel."

"All right," I said. "I presume, from what you've told me, that the

appointment is practically made. Time alone will tell." General Hutton

was appointed, and within nine months the relations between him and Sir

John became, to say the least of it, more than strained.

Next in order of importance as regarded appointments was, to my mind,

that of private secretary to the Governor-General. If there is an office

that requires consummate tact, knowledge and even-minded temperament,

commend me to that of private secretary to a Governor-General. In his

case Lord Hopetoun was fully satisfied to avail himself of the services

of Captain Wallington, with whom he was already intimately acquainted.

Captain Wallington had served in the capacity of private secretary to

several Governors. I wonder, if he happens to read these lines, whether

he will agree with me that perhaps during his long term of office he

enjoyed the quiet days he spent in Adelaide with Sir Thomas Fowell

Buxton, who was then Governor, as much as any of his time in other

colonies. Captain Wallington, now Sir Edward, must forgive me if I remind

him of the soubriquet by which his personal friends knew him--"Better

not." All his friends rejoice in the fact that he is now filling a very

high position of trust and enjoying the best of health.

I have been following, if you have noticed, the sequence of appointments

which it devolved upon the Government to make in initiating the

Commonwealth. I will continue this plan as regards the senior positions

under the Commander-in-Chief. At the time of General Hutton's arrival the

commands in the several States were held by the following officers:

New South Wales: Major-General French (late) Royal Artillery.

Victoria: Sir Charles Holled Smith's term of office as Commandant

had expired shortly before the inauguration of Federation, and the

post was held by my old friend General Downes, who, on his

retirement finally from the South Australian Command, had settled

in Melbourne, and had been requested by the Victorian Government to

take on the duties of Commandant temporarily.

Queensland: Major-General Finn, seconded from the 21st Hussars.

South Australia: I was still Commandant.

Western Australia: Colonel Francis.

Tasmania: Colonel Legge, (late) Royal Artillery.

Pending the expiration of the terms of service of Generals French and

Finn in New South Wales and Queensland the first important vacancy to be

filled was that of Commandant of Victoria, held temporarily by General

Downes. This was offered to me and I accepted it. When the appointment

was announced Kingston was the first to send for me to congratulate me. I

felt, indeed, short of words to thank him for what he had done for me. I

owed so much of my success to him. He was kind enough to say "that he

could honestly assure me that if my work had not been satisfactory I

would not have had his support and that of his colleagues and Parliament;

that he was sorry I was leaving South Australia, and he would prophesy

still higher promotion for me in the future."

These words, coupled with the fact that I was once more to follow my old

friend General Downes's footsteps and _occupy his chair_ as Commandant of

Victoria, set me thinking.

I certainly could not follow General Downes again to higher positions;

his retirement from active military work was final. It was useless to

seek for a second "vision," but it was in my power to renew the

resolution I made years previously, and, remembering Gordon of Khartoum's

maxim, "Never allow your pleasure to interfere with your duty," I fully

determined there and then not to rest until I had reached the highest

position in the military forces of the Commonwealth, and justified

Kingston's prophecy.

On being elected to the Federal Parliament Kingston severed his connexion

with the South Australian Government. It was not long before he made his

mark as a member of the Federal Cabinet. The influence of his strong

personality, his high attainments and sincere belief in the splendid

future of the young Commonwealth, marked him as a coming Prime Minister.

When this reward seemed to be within his grasp a serious illness overtook

him. After a long spell of enforced idleness he returned to Parliament.

He was a changed man. His constitution had been impaired beyond recovery.

A relapse followed which resulted fatally. A great man cut off in the

prime of his life--regretted by all--a loss to the Commonwealth.

CHAPTER II

COMMANDANT OF VICTORIA

My wife and I took up our residence in Melbourne, securing a comfortable

house not far from "The Grange," which had been the official home of the

Commandant of Melbourne in the earlier days and was then occupied by

General Hutton.

Four years of steady, solid work followed, during which General Hutton

laid the foundations for a sound organization of the future forces of the

Commonwealth. Contingents of Federal Troops were raised, trained and

dispatched to South Africa. It was a time worth living for from an

official point of view.

Two special occasions are worth noting: one the presentation of colours

to the units which had taken part in the South African War, and the other

the visit of the Japanese Fleet. With regard to the former, King Edward,

ever ready to recognize the services of those who had joined the armies

to fight for the Empire, presented Colours to such units of the mounted

Commonwealth Forces which had sent volunteers to the war. The Colours had

arrived in Melbourne, and Colour parties from the units concerned

throughout the Commonwealth were ordered to assemble in Melbourne for the

presentation ceremony. A parade of the metropolitan troops took place at

Albert Park. It was an inspiring sight, the first practical recognition

the troops had received of the services they and their comrades had so

well and so readily given for the Empire. This occasion marked only the

beginning of the enthusiasm which the thoughtful action of His Majesty

created throughout the Commonwealth. The Colours, so dearly valued by the

recipients, were welcomed not only by the soldiers but also by the

residents of the districts to which they belonged.

I hardly feel inclined to enter into the question of the visit of the

Japanese Fleet, either from a political or from a diplomatic point of

view. At the time when it took place there was no Anglo-Japanese Treaty.

The naval German base in north-eastern Papua was not established.

Unquestionably the peril to Australia of attack by Japan existed. Upon

what grounds the Japanese decided to send their fleet in force to

Australia it is difficult to imagine. The Japanese Government must have

been fully aware of the fact that Japan was a menace to Australia. What

was their object in proposing to pay a visit which was to bring them

within the territorial waters of a country which naturally looked upon

them as a possible enemy nation? I have failed to get any information on

this subject.

Whether the Japanese Government approached the Government of Australia in

the matter has never been made public. The fact remains that their fleet

_did_ arrive in Australian waters, that all possible courtesy was

tendered to them, and that they were given every opportunity to learn

much about Australia and its social and economic conditions, and to

become personally acquainted with its ports and harbours. The visit of

the Japanese Fleet was not popular with the public at large. The Japanese

have never been _personae gratae_ to Australians. Still, when they arrived

they were received in an honest, friendly way.

A very interesting point arose with reference to their visit. We were at

the time about to hold a review of the metropolitan military forces in

Melbourne by the Governor-General, and it was suggested to me, as

Commandant, that the Japanese admiral should be invited to send units

under his command to take part thereat. It was my duty to point out to

the Commander-in-Chief that there existed an international custom that no

troops of a foreign nation were allowed to land under arms on British

soil. As a matter of fact, I believe this rule applies to all European

nations.

In my mind I doubted whether an invitation to the Japanese Admiral to

send units to take part in the review under the command of--to them--an

alien officer, and to appear without arms, would be acceptable. The

invitation, however, was sent, and an answer was received to the effect

that the Admiral would be glad to avail himself of it, provided his men

would be allowed to carry their arms. It then became necessary to obtain

the approval of the home authorities to permit them to do so. Approval

was given. The review duly took place, and some four thousand Japanese

sailors and marines took part in it. I think I am right in stating that

this was the first time that a British officer commanded troops of a

foreign country under arms in time of peace on British soil.

General Hutton's term of office was nearing its end. For some time

previously a movement had been started to make a radical alteration in

the organization of the forces. Its object was to do away with the

position of Commander-in-Chief and substitute a small Army Council,

assisted by a Military Board. This was following in the footsteps of what

had already taken place at home, where the post of Commander-in-Chief had

been abolished on the expiration of Lord Wolseley's term of office and

the Army Council constituted.

Personally I was against the proposed change. From my point of view I

looked upon it as a risky experiment. The reorganization of the military

forces was still in progress and a master-mind with full responsibility

was necessary to complete it. Further, the proposed constitution of a

small Army Council and Military Board did not seem to me to be advisable.

My objections were chiefly with reference to the constitution and duties

laid down for the Military Board. I submitted a memorandum on the

subject.

The experience I had gained while I held the appointment of Military

Adviser to the Australian Colonies, 1897-99, had taught me how impossible

it would be in time of war, or even in anticipation of a war, to obtain

supplies of warlike stores for Australia, not only from the Continent of

Europe (whence at that time even the Home Government had to import many

essential requirements, such as searchlights), but from England itself.

No further example of this need be quoted than the one given by me with

reference to the scarcity of small-arm ammunition at the time of the

declaration of war against South Africa.

I had determined therefore that on my return to Australia I would set

myself the task of establishing an Australian arsenal and an explosive

factory.

The advent of the Boer War and afterwards the inauguration of the

Commonwealth of Australia necessarily postponed any practical action.

However, on taking up my duties as Commandant of Victoria under the

Commonwealth Government, I commenced to school public opinion in favour

of becoming self-supporting in a matter so intimately and seriously

affecting the material interests and welfare of its people. As regarded

the arsenal, Australia possessed every ingredient required for the

manufacture of every nature of gun, from a 9.2 to a maxim, from .303

rifle and bayonet to a service revolver. Coal, iron ore, copper, wood,

tin, zinc were there in plenty.

Railway engines, agricultural implements, mining machinery were all being

manufactured locally. Why not guns, mountings, rifles, and so on?

Practically similar conditions applied to explosives.

The change from the Martini-Henry to the .303 Lee-Metford, and later on

from the long to the short Lee-Metford, left Australia in a sad plight.

It was some years before the Home Government were able to supply the

orders sent from Australia. All through that time the local forces and

rifle club members suffered from inability to obtain up-to-date rifles.

As a few thousands of the new rifles arrived they were issued to the

partially-paid force, and their discarded ones were passed on to the

volunteers, and finally, when actually worn out, to the members of the

rifle clubs, who mostly hung them up as trophies of a past era over their

mantle-pieces at their homes, and bought up-to-date match rifles at their

own expense.

The situation was becoming grave; discontent was rife; interest in rifle

shooting was waning fast. The time had come for a determined effort to

force the Government to take action.

One of many curious facts which it is difficult to account for is the

apathy which often takes hold of a Government when a plain businesslike

proposition is put before them. My long experience in dealing with

Colonial Governments had taught me that the surest way of achieving one's

object was to take into one's confidence the leaders of the Opposition

for the time being, convince them of the soundness and merits of the

proposal, and induce them to adopt the scheme as a plank of their own

policy. Those in power generally resented the Opposition's interference,

and at times just out of "sheer cussedness," refused to move in the

matter at issue, forgetting that more than probably in a few months they

themselves would be sitting disconsolate and minus their Ministerial

salaries on the Opposition benches, while their late opponents scored

heavily by quickly giving effect to the proposals they themselves had,

through that "sheer cussedness," failed to adopt in the interests of the

country. Considering how short-lived Cabinets were in the early years of

Federation, there was little risk, if any, in carrying out the above

plan.

As a very heavy expenditure would have to be incurred in establishing an

arsenal, small arms and explosives factory, it was incumbent on me to

prove to the Government that such an expenditure was not only justifiable

from a national insurance point of view but that it could be made

actually a money-saving proposition, apart from the fact that, by

utilizing Australian products and labour, as well as local inventive

talent, all the money spent would remain in the country instead of

passing on into the hands of strangers.

In order to ascertain the probable expenditure of a plant capable of

turning out from thirty to forty thousand rifles per annum, I personally

arranged for confidential agents to make thorough inquiries in England,

America and Germany, and while awaiting their report to me I gave my

attention to the selection of a suitable site.

The coal mining town of Lithgow, situated some eighty miles west of

Sydney, possessed so many advantages that my choice was soon made.

Leaving Sydney, the plain extends as far as Penrith, which lies at the

foot of a high range happily named the Blue Mountains. The train which

serves the western districts climbs its way to Katoomba and Mount

Victoria, the highest point, through wonderfully picturesque scenery, and

then descends rapidly to low levels, emerging at the town of Lithgow, a

branch line connecting it with the southern railways system via Blayney

and Young. The coal deposits at Lithgow are extensive; large fields of

iron ore are available at no great distance further west. Iron and steel

works on a big scale were in process of being established. Every

consideration pointed to the suitability of the site, and, as a matter of

fact, no voice was raised against it.

Later on I received the reports of my agents. Those from Germany were

unsatisfactory. A close examination of the English and American estimates

of cost showed that the English prices were exorbitant, and, in addition,

the time-limit I had set for the delivery of and setting up the machinery

at Lithgow, namely, eighteen months, could not be guaranteed by the

English firms.

Armed now with full information, I submitted the proposal to the

Government, the Minister for Defence at the time being my old

acquaintance, Mr. Playford, from South Australia.

The Press and the leaders of the Opposition supported the proposal, and

the Government went so far as to approve of inquiries being instituted by

the Defence Department as to the probable cost and other points of

importance. Mr. Playford appointed one of our officers then in England to

co-operate with the High Commissioner for the purpose. I had not deemed

it necessary to inform Mr. Playford of my private inquiries, simply

pointing out to him that in my opinion the factory could be established

at a satisfactory figure.

Probably through lack of sufficient experience, the result of the

inquiries by the officer selected was a report as to cost which

practically damned the proposition. Mr. Playford was annoyed that I had

so insistently expressed my opinion that the cost would not be

prohibitory, and, as he put it in his curt way, he told me I had

practically made a fool of him. I did not allow myself to be put out by

his rudeness, as General Owen had done, but smiled and asked him if the

Government had decided to turn the proposal down definitely. If so I

would be obliged if he could let me have an official minute to that

effect, as I had another course to suggest for his consideration. On

receipt of his minute I requested a further interview with him. My new

proposal was that I was prepared to give up my appointment and establish

the factory myself, provided the Government agreed to take 20,000 rifles

a year for seven years at the price which we were then paying the War

Office, and that at the end of the seven years the Government could take

the concern over at a valuation if they so desired. This offer I put in

writing and I let it be widely known that I had made it.

Mr. Playford was once more annoyed. He could not understand how it could

pay me to throw up my career to undertake a job which his advisers had

reported upon so adversely. If he had been let down by them, my offer

accepted, and I scored a success, what opinion would the public form of

him? In order to avoid falling between two stools he decided to recommend

to the Government to call for tenders throughout the world. I had

impressed upon him that this was essential in order to test the _bona

fides_ of the tenderers. Tenders were called for. I had gained my point,

for I knew that if the confidential reports of my agents were fairly

correct, the amount of the American tenders would be close on 50 per

cent. lower than any others, as no European country, bar England and

Germany, was in a position to undertake the order. I accordingly then

informed Mr. Playford of my views on the matter and patiently waited for

the day when the tenders were due. I shall not forget Mr. Playford's

chagrin when he found that my forecast had been verified to the letter.

If I remember correctly the American lowest tender was some L97,000, the

lowest English one some L140,000. As the tenderers were a well-known firm

of high standing in the United States (contractors to their Government)

their offer was accepted and the factory was established at Lithgow.

I had been successful all round, and scored at last off Playford.

General Hutton left Australia; the Army Council and Military Board were

established. General Finn, a cavalry officer, who, at the time of the

inauguration of the Commonwealth in 1901 was Commandant of Queensland,

and had afterwards succeeded General French as Commandant in New South

Wales, was appointed Inspector-General. General Hoad became Chief of the

General Staff and Senior Member of the Military Board.

My term of office as Commandant of Victoria expired. I was offered the

command of "The Mother State," New South Wales, which became vacant on

the appointment of General Finn as Inspector-General. I accepted. It was

one more step to my final goal.

CHAPTER III

COMMANDANT OF NEW SOUTH WALES

Shortly after I took up the command in New South Wales an incident

occurred which gave the first real impetus to the serious consideration

and final adoption by the Government of the system of universal service

as proposed by me eleven years before when Commandant in Adelaide. I had

arranged to read a paper to my officers in New South Wales. Owing to the

fact that our own military institute was not sufficiently large to

accommodate them we had made arrangements to hire one of the big public

halls, and we had decided to ask the Lord Mayor of Sydney, Alderman Allan

Taylor, to take the chair and to send invitations to many of the chief

citizens to be present. My object in reading this paper was to push on

the question of universal service. The title I had selected for the

lecturette was, "What has Australia done for the Australians, and What

are Australians doing for Australia?" After I had finished the Lord Mayor

made a few remarks with reference to the subject at issue and concluded

by moving a vote of thanks. This was really outside our practice at the

institute. I thanked the Lord Mayor for his kind remarks, and in quite a

colloquial way said that it was distressing to go round the public parks

about Sydney on holidays and Saturday afternoons and see thousands of

young men sitting on fences smoking cigarettes, content to loaf and look

on while a few men played games. It happened that the previous Saturday

had been the last day of one of the cricket Test Matches, against England

played at the Sydney Cricket Ground. The attendance thereat had been

enormous, as usual--some thirty-five thousand people. The next morning I

was astonished when I got the morning papers to see the following

headings: "The Citizens of Sydney insulted.... Forty thousand loafers at

the Sydney Cricket Ground. So says our new Commandant, General Gordon."

Then followed a statement to the effect that while addressing the

officers under his command and many eminent citizens the evening before,

the general had stated that on the previous Saturday he had been present

at the Sydney Cricket Ground and had seen thousands of loafers whose time

would have been far better taken up if they had been devoting it to

fitting themselves for the defence of their country, and that they (the

newspaper reporters) considered it a very undeserved reflection on the

thousands who were watching the big tussle at the Test Match.

Knowing full well that these headings would have been telegraphed to the

Press throughout Australia and have appeared therein that same morning, I

at once wired to the Military Board, for the information of the Minister,

to the effect that the newspaper reports were inaccurate. I was reported

also to have stated that I had ready for the consideration of the

Government a scheme which would form the basis upon which to found a

system of universal service. This latter part of their report was

correct. I had made that statement. I had prepared the scheme in Adelaide

eleven years before.

Shortly after sending my wire to the Military Board I received one from

them drawing my attention to the Press reports and requesting an

explanation as to their correctness as regarded the "thousands of

loafers," and further desiring to be informed if the statement as to the

scheme for universal service was accurate, and, if so, instructing me to

forward it for the information of the Minister by the first post. My own

telegram, which had crossed theirs, had answered their first question.

With reference to the second I notified them that the scheme would be

posted that afternoon. I can reproduce here the actual document which I

sent down. It read as follows:

SCHEME for the defence of the Commonwealth of Australia, based on the

recognition by the citizens of the Commonwealth of the personal

responsibility on the part of one and all to prepare themselves in time

of peace so as to enable them to bear their share of the burden of the

protection of the Commonwealth and Empire in time of war.

I

GENERAL VIEW OF PRESENT SITUATION

It is submitted that:

(a) The national growth of a nation depends on the recognition of the

personal responsibility of that nation's citizens to develop her

industrial and commercial interests and the integrity thereof.

(b) In the present economic conditions of a young nation such as

Australia (an island continent containing an area of practically

one-third of the British Empire whose population totals only some five

millions of inhabitants), it is not considered advisable or even

practicable to establish and maintain a standing army of sufficient

strength to enable the nation to put its trust for its protection on such

a standing army and, thereby, relieve the rest of its male inhabitants

from the responsibility of service in case of an invasion.

The maintenance of such a standing army would, it is urged, be a direct

loss, as it would severely cripple the best interests of the economic

development of the nation in time of peace, specially in the early years

of the nation's growth, and it would entail an expenditure not

justifiable under such circumstances.

(c) On the other hand, it is contested that, if a system of training

every young man can be devised:

1stly, To have a sound mind in a sound body;

2ndly, To submit to military discipline;

3rdly, To shoot straight;

and

4thly, To learn sufficient drill to enable him to fulfil his duties

in the ranks with such knowledge and intelligence as will give him

the necessary confidence in himself; and that system is so carried

out that it does not interfere in any way with the industrial,

professional, or commercial avocations of such young men, then the

foundation will be laid of a national defence force based on the

highest principles of citizenship which will be of the greatest

value for home defence or to fight away from her shores in the

interests of the Empire.

II

WHAT IS THE SYSTEM PROPOSED?