1879--COMPLIMENTARY HONOURS
Honours from County of Essex--Visit to Balmoral--Cawdor Castle--
Hughenden Manor--Promotion by selection disapproved--
Entertained by the Bar of England--Forecast of Boer Rebellion.
I attended on the 20th of September the sale of Sir Thomas Lennard’s
hunters at Belhus, then an annual event of much interest in the County,
and it having been stated in the papers I should be there, many of the
labouring classes came to see me. An elderly woman, who had walked many
miles, pushing her way through the crowd round the show-ring, asked
a policeman eagerly, “Which is ’im?” She had pictured in her mind an
imposing heroic figure in a splendid uniform, and on my being pointed
out, a middle-sized man in plain clothes, observed in a disappointed
tone as she wiped her perspiring brow: “What, ’im kill all them Zulus!
Why, my old man would clout un.”
On the 14th of October the County of Essex entertained me at
Chelmsford, presenting me with a handsome Sword of Honour and a service
of plate, and in a speech at dinner, while thanking the inhabitants
of Essex, I replied to the adverse anonymous critics who had objected
to my naming my comrades in previous speeches by explaining the
necessity of bringing the Nation into closer touch with its private
soldiers. I had long thought that with a Voluntary Army it was useless
to expect the best results, unless where bravery and devotion to the
interests of the country is concerned, all ranks receive consideration,
and I deliberately acted upon the conviction, in spite of adverse
criticism.[202]
A friend, the able editor of a newspaper, while remarking on my
speeches in terms personally complimentary to me, observed: “Sir
Evelyn Wood does not appear capable of perceiving the seamy side of
his profession.” I was too fond of my friend to answer him in print,
for I feel sure that if I had written to his paper he would have put
in my letter, but, as I told him privately, the occasion was not one
for bringing to notice the seamy side, of which there is, doubtless,
in military life more than anyone could desire, but there are also
many noble aspects in such a career; for, as I remarked in speaking of
the death of Ronald Campbell, Coldstream Guards, “When the noise and
excitement of a war is over, the soldier who has seen men die for each
other, or for Duty’s sake, can never again be altogether unheroic in
his life.”
I received in September a command to stay at Balmoral, and left town on
the evening of the 8th. I was most graciously received by Her Majesty,
who honoured me with her conversation throughout dinner, and again
the next night, in addition to an hour’s interview each forenoon and
afternoon, and then on until the 11th. My original invitation was for
one night only, and when I was told on Thursday that I was expected to
stop till Saturday I was much concerned, as I had promised to visit
Lord Cawdor, who was naturally anxious to hear about his son, Ronald
Campbell; and moreover, Sunday travelling is practically impossible
in Scotland. The Equerry-in-Waiting informed me that it would not be
etiquette for me to express any wish in the matter, so I approached
Lady Ely, who was equally determined that she would not speak to the
Queen, and explain my position. I then said, “Well, Lady Ely, then I
shall,” believing that the Queen, who had been so gracious, would not
wish to put me to inconvenience, or disappoint Lord Cawdor. This had
the desired effect, and when Her Majesty sent for me in the afternoon
she opened the conversation by saying, “I believe it will not be
convenient to you to remain till Saturday?” and I replied, “Most
inconvenient, Your Majesty.” I was greatly impressed, not only by the
Queen’s accurate judgment, but by her profound knowledge of details of
the recent operations.
I went by Elgin to Nairn, and spent an interesting twenty-four hours
with the family of my late friend. On my return south I received
the following courteous letter from Lord Beaconsfield, and I went to
Hughenden on the 23rd.
“HUGHENDEN MANOR, _Sept. 15th, 1878_.
“DEAR SIR EVELYN,--The Queen wishes that I should see you, but it
is not only in obedience to Her Majesty’s commands, but for mine
own honour and gratification, that I express a hope that your
engagements may permit you to visit Hughenden on the 23rd inst.,
and remain there until the following Friday.--Your faithful servant,
“BEACONSFIELD.”
There was a house party, those interesting me most after my host
being Mr. Edward Stanhope, then known as “Young Stanhope,” afterwards
Secretary of State for War, and Sir Drummond Wolff. Lord Beaconsfield
asked me to come and stroll with him on the terrace the morning after
my arrival,--a walk which we shared with his peacocks,--and he asked
me many questions about soldiers and South Africa, I endeavouring to
parry his queries respecting Sir Bartle Frere. In the course of his
conversation he expressed unbounded admiration for Sir Garnet Wolseley,
telling me that when he embarked for South Africa he had said to him:
“Now, I trust you--you trust me.” Then passing on to other soldiers,
he asked if I had known Colonel Home. I explained that I had lived for
many weeks in a hut of leaves on the West Coast of Africa with him,
and, moreover, had been associated with him at Aldershot. His Lordship
said: “That man had the biggest brain of any soldier I have met.” I
agreed heartily, but then Lord Beaconsfield rather spoilt the value
of his judgment by observing, “Why, it was Home who made me acquire
Cyprus!” Home foresaw clearly that England must, for the sake of India,
acquire a predominant interest in Egypt, and at one time had made a
plan for building a gigantic fort in the bed of the sea, three miles
outside Port Said.
The second night, after the ladies had left the dining-room, somebody
remarked on the news in the evening papers that Mr. Waddington had
been appointed French Ambassador at the Court of St. James, and went
on to say how extraordinary it was that the French found it necessary
to nominate an Englishman to that position, appealing to Lord
Beaconsfield for his opinion. His Lordship replied: “The fact is,
the French have never had a native Frenchman worthy of the name of
statesman.” I observed gently: “My Lord, have you forgotten Colbert?”
He turned to me, saying somewhat sharply: “You don’t seem to be aware
that Colbert was a Swiss!” I did not think it necessary to contradict
my host, and a much older man, by stating the fact that, although
educated in Switzerland, Colbert was born at Rheims, and submitted to
the suppressing looks of my fellow guests, who chorused: “Yes, Colbert
was a Swiss!” I was sitting next but one to His Lordship, and then in a
low tone observed: “My Lord, how about Sully?” Sir Drummond Wolff from
the end of the table called out: “What is that you are saying?” “Oh,
nothing, I only made another suggestion;” but our host, drawing himself
up, said in his slow, measured voice: “I now feel I made a rash and
inaccurate statement. Sir Evelyn Wood challenged it, and I could not
agree with him when he instanced Colbert, but he has now reminded me of
Sully, who was not only a Frenchman, but a very great minister. I admit
my mistake.”
In the drawing-room, later in the evening, Drummond Wolff came up to me
and said: “I say, how on earth did you manage to remember Sully?” “When
I was small,” I replied, “my parents were poor, and we had few toys,
but in our nursery there was a French history book, _The Kings and
Queens of France_, and I often looked at a picture of Sully standing
at the door with a portfolio of papers, having surprised Henri IV.,
who was on his hands and knees carrying two of Gabrielle D’Estrées’
children on his back.”
I saw by Lord Beaconsfield’s manner that if I stayed till the end of
the week, as I had been invited, I should never escape a searching
inquisition respecting Sir Bartle Frere’s action in declaring war,
so on Wednesday night I asked my host’s permission to take my leave
next morning. As we were going to bed, I said: “You will allow me to
thank you, and say good-bye, as I am going by the earliest train.” He
replied: “There is no earlier train than 8.23, and as I am always up
at 7 I shall have the pleasure of seeing you.” As this was just what I
wanted to avoid, I told the butler I would have my breakfast at 7.30
in my bedroom, and at that hour rang, and asked why it had not been
brought. He answered that it was in an ante-room, close at hand, where
a fire had been lighted. I had scarcely sat down before I heard the
measured step of his Lordship on the stairs, and as he came in, after
greeting him, I asked him whether he had read an article in a magazine
which I had open on the table. He replied somewhat shortly, “No,” but
he had come to talk to me about other matters, and he proceeded to put
many searching questions as to Sir Bartle Frere’s procedure with the
Zulu nation.
We all knew in December that the Government had refused General
Thesiger the reinforcements he had asked, as the Cabinet wished to
avoid war, but the High Commissioner and the General were of opinion
that matters had then gone too far to avoid it. Lord Beaconsfield asked
me: “Will you please tell me whether, in your opinion, the war could
have been postponed for six months?” “No, sir.” “For three months?” “I
think possibly.” “For one month?” “Certainly.” “Well, even a fortnight
would have made all the difference to me, for at that time we were
negotiating with Russia at San Stefano, and the fact of our having
to send out more troops stiffened the Russian terms.” “But, sir,” I
said, “you surely do not mean to say the sending out of four or five
battalions and two cavalry regiments altered our military position
in Europe?” He said: “Perhaps not,--but it did in the opinion of the
Russians, who imagined we were sending an Army Corps.” He then went on
to say: “You are young; some day you may be abroad, and let me urge you
to carry out, not only the letter of the Cabinet’s orders, but also the
spirit of its instructions.” Two years later, after Majuba, I had to
ponder often on this admonition.
On the 16th October the Military Secretary informed me that the
Colonial Office had brought to the notice of the Commander-in-Chief
“the very valuable Political services” I had rendered when in command
of a column in Zululand. Sir Bartle Frere had brought the services
of my friend Colonel Pearson also to notice, and the fact that the
only result in my case was an expression of His Royal Highness’s
gratification, which caused him to make a note in the records of the
War Office, did not detract from the pleasure I had on reading of
Pearson’s being made a Knight Commander of the Order of Saint Michael
and St. George.
There were many discussions amongst the Heads of the Army on the
question of my promotion. His Royal Highness the Commander-in-Chief
was conscientiously opposed to it, and indeed to all promotion by
selection, having been a consistent advocate of advancement by
seniority. He held an officer should command a battalion when he was
forty, but on the other hand maintained that a Colonel should become
a Major-General only by seniority. He said more than once, “Men are
much of a muchness; I find officers very much on a par.”[203] Lord
Penzance’s committee pointed out, however, that if the system advocated
by the Commander-in-Chief was maintained the average of Majors-General
would be sixty-four. The senior Staff officers appointed by him
naturally reflected his views. There was, however, a Colonel of very
decided opinions then in the office, for whom the Adjutant-General
sent, and asked: “Would you object to Evelyn Wood being put over your
head?” He replied: “Do you consider he would make a good general?”
“Yes, his reports are good.” “Then, sir, I think you should promote
him; and having said that, may I further add I do not think you have
any right to ask my opinion.”
Sir Garnet Wolseley did his utmost to get me promoted on Public
grounds. In addressing the Commander-in-Chief from South Africa, on the
18th July,[204] he wrote: “I earnestly hope that Your Royal Highness
will be enabled to recommend Colonel Wood to Her Majesty for the
permanent rank of Major-General, not as a reward for what he has done,
but in the interests of the Queen’s Army, and of the State.” The Chief,
ignoring the Public grounds question, replied: “Evelyn Wood I know as
an excellent man.... I have my doubts, however, whether Wood has not
received his full reward with a K.C.B. and a Good Service Pension.” The
Commander-in-Chief was misinformed as to the rewards he mentioned.
He had given me the Good Service Pension in March 1879, on General
Thesiger’s strong remonstrance that I was the only officer unrewarded
for the Gaika War, and the K.C.B. was given for my services in Northern
Zululand, before the battle of Kambula.[205]
On the 1st November the Bar of England gave me a dinner in the Middle
Temple Hall, the first, I believe, to a soldier, unless we consider
Drake belonged to both Services, at which the Lord Chancellor paid me a
gracious compliment: “The law is silent in the midst of Arms, yet, as
we see to-night, the lawyer and soldier combined can, after Arms have
been laid aside, speak with the eloquence which befits the one and the
vigour which characterises the other.”
Early in December 1879 my mother’s health gave us cause for anxiety,
and on the 13th of that month my sister, Lady Lennerd, in whose house
she was staying, said: “I am afraid that you are feeling very ill.”
“Yes, very ill!” “Would you like us to telegraph for Evelyn to come
and see you?” “Yes, please do so.” As my sister was leaving the room,
mother called her back, and asked: “What time is it?” “About six.”
“Then please write on the telegram, ‘Not to be delivered till 11.15
p.m.’” “Why?” my sister asked. “Because he is giving an important
dinner party at his Club, and if the telegram goes now he will leave
the table, and it will spoil the party.” I was, in fact, entertaining
the Attorney-General Sir John Holker, and some friends who had thrown
themselves warmly into the dinner given to me by the Bar. At 11.15
the telegram was placed in my hands as I was saying good-night to my
guests. My brother was with me, and we left by a luggage train at 2
a.m., reaching Belhus early on Sunday. My mother spoke to me about ten
o’clock that night quite rationally, asking about the dinner party, and
died at five o’clock next morning, so painlessly that I was unable to
credit the fact that she had passed away.
Her last act of unselfishness was only similar to her conduct
throughout her life. There are few men, I suppose, who remain in quite
as close touch with mother and sisters when they marry as they were
while bachelors; but in my case, with the mother, as with two sisters,
my marriage only brought one more into the circle of devoted relations.
I assumed command of the Belfast District on the 22nd of December, and
to this day am ignorant why I was sent there, as the Commander-in-Chief
had given me on the 29th of October the command of the Chatham
District, which I took over on the 12th of January 1880, from General
(now Sir) Edward Bulwer, brother of Sir Henry Bulwer, who was Governor
of Natal in 1879. My only difference of opinion with the General was
as to the terms on which I purchased horses, furniture, _et cetera_,
concerning which he showed much more consideration for me than for his
own pecuniary interests.
When Her Imperial Majesty the Empress Eugénie read in the newspapers
the account of the Fishmongers’ banquet on the 30th of September, and
the allusion to her noble son beautifully expressed in Shakespeare’s
language, she sent for me, and, after several prolonged interviews,
I was commanded to Windsor, where Her Majesty was graciously pleased
to honour me with the charge of the Empress on a journey she was
undertaking to the spot where her gallant son perished. The Queen
enjoined on me the greatest care for the safety of her Sister, and I
replied I could only accept full responsibility if H.I.M. the Empress
would follow my instructions as if she were a soldier in my command.
This was arranged, and on the 25th of March the Empress sailed from
Southampton for Cape Town and Durban.
Her Imperial Majesty had sent me a cheque for £5000, desiring me to
purchase everything required, and to defray all charges. I handed back
on our return to the Empress’ Secretary £3600. I was allowed to take my
Aide-de-Camp, Captain Arthur Bigge,[206] and Lieutenant Slade[207] as
an extra Aide-de-Camp. Both these officers had distinguished themselves
by the courage with which they fought their guns in the open at
Kambula twelve months earlier. The Marquis de Bassano, Lady Wood, and
the Honourable Mrs. Ronald Campbell, the widow of my Staff officer and
friend who fell leading so determinedly at the Inhlobane, Dr. Scott of
the Army Medical Department, two maids in the service of the Empress,
Walkinshaw, my bugler, who had served with me in 1878 and 1879, and a
complete establishment of servants, made up the party.
When we reached Cape Town, I had communications from well-educated
acquaintances in the old Colony and Natal, loyal to our Government
from conviction and personal interest. I wrote to my uncle on the 20th
April, after an interview with a Dutch gentleman: “From what this
gentleman told me, and from what I learn from other sources, it is
clear to me that affairs in South Africa are in a very unsatisfactory
state. Joubert and Kruger are now in this Colony agitating amongst
the Colony Boers for the restoration of the Transvaal. There are many
members of the Cape House whose seats depend on the vote, and thus
pressure is brought on the Ministry here. I do not suppose we shall
restore the Transvaal: if we do, we shall be obliged to re-annex it in
ten years, for the sake of both Whites and Blacks. If it is not to be
restored, the cause of order and progress will be greatly strengthened
by the Imperial Ministers saying, ‘We cannot restore the Transvaal.’” I
suggested he should tell some of his friends in the Cabinet what I had
learnt. He had long before resigned his seat on the Woolsack, owing to
failing vision, but was on intimate terms with his former colleagues.