1889--ALDERSHOT
£3000 borrowed for Installation--Rebuilding of Barracks in Company
blocks--Names of Barracks--A troublesome inheritance of debt--
Personal Staff--Lonsdale Hale--Henderson--Commander-in-Chief
disapproves of Night Marches--The German Emperor--Mr. Stanhope.
Although I had some horses and sufficient furniture for the house hired
by Government for the General of the Eastern District at Colchester,
yet I had to borrow £3000 to instal myself at Aldershot, where I took
over Command on the 1st January. I returned to Colchester twice for
farewell festivities, which the Residents kindly insisted on offering
me. I received not only in Essex but in East Anglia much hospitality
during my Command.
On getting to my new station I had a conference on musketry, but there
being a Divisional Inspector for Aldershot I had merely to indicate my
wishes, and support him in trying to improve the shooting of the troops.
I knew the wretched accommodation provided for the troops, neither
wind nor rain proof, having been quartered in the North and South
Camps twenty years earlier. The contractor in 1855 had guaranteed the
huts for thirteen years, so his work was good; but the annual upkeep
amounted in the eighties to £7000, with a constantly increasing outlay,
in spite of the fact that the barracks of three battalions in the North
Camp had been rebuilt in brick, on the bungalow principle.
I strongly advocated the immediate reconstruction of the South Camp,
and the rebuilding in brick for the units still hutted in the North
Camp, but on a different system. I had been striving for years to get a
fuller recognition of the Company system, the value of which had been
impressed on me in 1867–8, when I lived as Brigade Major in the Lines
of the 68th battalion (1st Durham Light Infantry). One morning about 4
a.m., the Assistant Adjutant-General and I having spent the night at
Sandhurst College helping to extinguish a fire, were parting close to
his hut, when he said, “Send three more companies over at once.” “Yes,
sir.” “Which shall you send?” “68th.” “Why, are they first for duty?”
“Oh, I don’t know, nor care, for I am tired; and if they go, I need
not get up at 6.30. to ensure their breakfasts are sent over.” When
the battalion was leaving Aldershot, General Sir Alfred Horsford said:
“Wood, the 68th is the best organised battalion I have ever known. Find
out the reason.” Instead of riding down to the station, I walked on
in advance with the Quarter-Master, Mr. Sladen, and from him elicited
the fact that the Company system had been started in the forties, and
maintained ever since, which accounted for the smoothness of running in
the battalion.
The Commanding officer’s or Adjutant’s battalion is good enough for
Peace and Show, but is ill-adapted for emergencies, and breaks-down on
service. The disadvantage of breaking up units, now generally admitted
in the army, was so little understood even thirty years ago, that a
common order was: “Send a strong squadron, or a strong company;” and in
1881 when I demurred to sending from Natal “a strong Company,” at least
120, to the mouth of the St. John river, my brother General at Cape
Town declined my alternative proposal to send one Company, about 90,
or two Companies, about 180 strong; and as I would not give way, the
dispute was telegraphed to the War Office, and the Adjutant-General,
Lord Wolseley, approved of my action. I advocated, therefore, from
experience that the new barracks to be built should be in Company
blocks, and after some discussion this was approved. My recommendation
that each barrack should in name commemorate a British victory, was
approved only after repeated applications. I personally “sited”
all barracks built in my time, at a cost of about £1,500,000. The
Adjutant-General and Inspector-General of Fortifications, who came to
criticise before approving, on their departure said frankly, “In London
we did not like your scheme at all, but are now in complete agreement
with your views.” Later, when the Plans, Prices, and Execution were
questioned in the House of Commons, the Secretary of State appointed a
committee of Civilian Architects and builders, who reported that the
Royal Engineers had made good plans, the Contractors had done their
part satisfactorily, and the country had obtained full value for its
expenditure.
I inherited a troublesome task in the Officers’ Club-house, which I
found with an increasing debt, the liabilities standing at £1100,
and my brother officers disagreed with my economically drastic
proposals for meeting our liabilities, offering several impracticable
suggestions; one, that we should borrow the money in the name of the
Division. I asked the General officer who made this proposal if he
would sign a paper as one of the guarantors of the debt, but this he
absolutely declined! I then offered to put down; £100 on the table
as my share, if every officer in the Division would subscribe in
proportion to his pay, based on my pay and contribution. The Seniors
at once vetoed this suggestion, and my plans were eventually accepted,
with the result that four years later all the liabilities had been
met, and I handed a cash balance of over £1600 to my successor. This
satisfactory result was mainly owing to the business-like aptitudes of
my senior Aide-de-camp, Major C. Parsons,[291] Royal Artillery, who
made a profit of £550 out of Subscription dances.
Like Major Parsons, my Cavalry Aides-de-camp were selected on military
grounds; indeed I did not know personally either Captain Babington,
16th Lancers, or his successor, Captain H. D. Fanshawe, 19th Hussars,
before they came to Aldershot.
Babington had been described to me as a keen soldier, and one of
the best “across country” men in the Cavalry, and he fully merited
the description. When he was obliged to rejoin his Regiment, on its
departure for India, I invited Hew Fanshawe to succeed him on my
personal Staff; I had noticed his singularly quiet but determined
manner, and thorough knowledge of all Regimental details two years
previously, when inspecting the Regiment of which he was Adjutant. He
was, moreover, a thorough sportsman, and in spite of being badly off,
hunted the Regimental pack of Staghounds while quartered at Norwich,
and was known to have got single-handed, in Arran, on 12th August 1888,
161 grouse with 200 cartridges. I never met a harder working officer,
or one who understood better, stable management. His horses never
refused their food, though I have known him rail them to Reading, ride
17 miles to meet the South Oxfordshire hounds, and return at night to
Aldershot. Such practical sportsmen were of great assistance to me in
the outdoor work which now engaged most of my time.
The system of umpiring at tactical exercises with Opposing forces was
unsatisfactory, and it had the effect of stopping all initiative on the
part of the cavalry. In one of our first exercises I came on a brigade
halted near a small wood. I asked, “What is it; why are you stopping?”
“There are Infantry in the wood.” “How many?” “We don’t know.” “Then
why don’t you ascertain?” “If we go forward and ascertain, the Umpire
will send us home.” “Well, I shall do that now, if you stop here doing
nothing.” Then Sir Drury Lowe, who commanded the Cavalry brigade, and
with whom I had had the pleasure of serving in India, and I set to work
to improve matters. We took command of opposing forces, Cavalry against
Infantry, and acted also as Umpires on terms of equality, and soon had
the satisfaction of seeing an improvement.
The Gunners had been dominated by the result of imaginary Infantry
fire, the effect of which was estimated by the results of target
practice on known ranges, and insufficient consideration had been
credited to the Artillery for the effect of their fire on the opposing
Infantry. The Artillery were still practising drill in use during
the Peninsula War; one of the favourite movements, and perhaps the
most useless, being “Changing front, right, and left, on the centre
sub-division.” I found there were two standards of Efficiency, the
Aldershot ideal, which may be described as smartness in turn-out, and
mobility, Regimentally known as “First gun off”; and the Okehampton
ideal, the motto for which was “Hit, Hit, Hit.” I tried to combine
the better points of the two systems. The General in command of the
Artillery, who possessed a high sense of duty, was, however, best known
in the Army from his desire to advance to decisive Ranges. He talked
openly, as indeed he wrote, against the work at Okehampton, where,
however, he had never seen his men practise.
On the other hand, a very clever officer, who had the ear of the
Artillery authorities in Pall Mall, was engaged in editing a new drill
book, already in type, the key-note of which was “Service conditions.”
It inculculated, however, too strongly, in my opinion, caution in order
to avoid losses. I endeavoured to find a middle way between these
opposing views, and to some extent succeeded, laying down the principle
that our ideal should be the destruction of the enemy as cheaply as
possible, but when necessary at all costs.
After my first Artillery tactical exercise I remarked to the officers
assembled at the conference, that I had looked through the sights of
ten guns in one position, and found seven of them laid in the air. The
Artillery tactical days I initiated in 1890 induced greater attention
being paid to the handling of brigades when coming into action, and
enabled me to classify the individual skill of the Lieutenant-Colonels
in command. No part of my instructional duties has given me so much
pleasure as I got from working with the Artillery, from the zest and
broad-minded spirit with which Gunners of all Ranks took up the new
system. I do not know any compliment which has pleased me so much as
that paid to me by the Council in 1892, in enrolling me an honorary
member of the Institution of the Royal Artillery, in recognition of my
efforts to improve the war training of the Arm. The letter offering me
the distinction was couched in such appreciatory words as to enhance
the value of the honour.
I saw each Infantry Brigade separately, and created some astonishment
by the attention I demanded to exactitude in the Manual exercises and
in parade movements. One General said to me, “We thought you did not
care for such details.” I replied, “I do not think battles are won by
them, and want to do as little as possible of them; but what we do
should be done as well, and with as much exactitude, as possible.”
While I was at Colchester I got three selected captains in different
Battalions to draw up a form of report of Company training, which I
introduced at Aldershot, and on which 82 Captains reported at the
end of the first and second years’ training. They were practically
unanimous in favour of it, suggesting only minor alterations; and
eighteen months later the Adjutant-General wrote: “As the system of
Company training introduced at Colchester and at Aldershot by you has
proved so successful, I am directed to ask you to consider the larger
question of training Battalions throughout the year at all other
Stations.”
I began in 1889 with Companies of Infantry, then in succession giving
my attention to the instruction of Battalions and Brigades, and later,
the handling of Forces of all Arms; and endeavoured to work out the
most useful method of applying Cavalry combined with Mounted Infantry,
both in Strategical and Tactical operations. In the latter I made a
point of never criticising adversely anyone, of whatever rank, for
having failed to carry out orders, if he had a sound reason for not
doing so.
In my criticisms on Tactical operations I was greatly assisted by the
friendly advice of an old comrade, Colonel Lonsdale Hale, a man of
calm judgment and of great military knowledge. He had at his fingers’
ends every incident of the Franco-Prussian War, both as regards the
operations on the eastern frontier and those on the Loire. While he
took an interest in all Arms, he paid particular attention to Artillery
and Infantry, and attended nearly every Tactical operation I carried
out, often accompanied by Colonel Henderson, whose early death has been
eloquently lamented by Lord Roberts as a great loss to the Army. Hale
discussed with me, verbally or on paper, every decision after it was
given, unless it met his views; and this had the effect of improving
materially the value of my judgment.
I had the satisfaction of introducing a more even scale of justice,
for on joining the Division I found that in two brigades, only half
a mile apart, soldiers tried by Court-Martial on the same day for
identical offences received, the better character a year, and the worse
character--a man with two previous convictions--eighty-four days’
imprisonment with hard labour.
The Draft Season 1889–90 impressed all with the value of Lord
Wolseley’s scheme of Territorial Regiments. On one occasion, when a
large draft of the Suffolk Regiment was on furlough pending embarkation
for India, we received a telegram that the ship would be delayed for
another fortnight, and letters were sent to every man postponing his
return. I asked the Commanding officer, “Will they all come back?” “We
are absolutely certain of all except two, who are doubtful.” In effect
all, including those two, returned punctually; and later, when the 1st
Somerset Light Infantry embarked for Gibraltar, every man was present.
This battalion had fought under my command at Kambula, Zululand, and
happened to be quartered within 400 yards of Government House, in the
grounds of which could be seen any afternoon from ten to a dozen hares,
for which the enclosure became a preserve, thus affording officers
and men much amusement with the Foot beagles. Some of the hares were
coursed with greyhounds in the early mornings, and I had reason to
believe that men in the Somerset owned the dogs. Two privates, indeed,
were seen in the grounds; but I had been on especially friendly
terms with the battalion since 1879, and instead of having the men
punished I sent a message through the Adjutant, to be passed on by the
Sergeant-Major, that the General particularly wanted poachers kept
out of the Government House grounds, and from that day no soldier
trespassers gave any trouble.
I found, on taking over the command, a system in force of issuing
“General” and “Special” ideas the previous day, so that the officers in
command might have ample time to make up their minds, and to ask advice
as to what should be done. This system I changed, warning combatants
to be ready to march at a certain hour, and sending the Special Ideas
to Squadrons, Batteries, and Companies in reasonable time for them
to be explained to all concerned, so that they were ready before the
operations began, which was generally two hours later.
I did not always succeed in my efforts to impart instruction; indeed
I learnt accidentally from a young officer, in the third year of my
command at Aldershot, that he had not seen any of the criticisms on
which, after long days in the saddle, Colonel Hildyard[292] and I had
spent several hours every night, often not going to bed till 2 a.m. On
inquiry I ascertained that the Adjutant (for the commanding officer
did not appear much in the transaction) had kept them carefully in
his camp-bag, that they might be read to the troops on their return,
when any interest evoked must have evaporated. Still we imparted some
instruction.
I was fortunate in having to deal with polished gentlemen as my
subordinates; but in addition, Brigadier-General Mansfield Clarke[293]
was a man of experience, tact, and decision. I cannot recall having
made any adverse remarks on the training of those under his command.
I corresponded with some of my contemporary, and earlier Staff
College graduates, then commanding troops in India, and endeavoured
to assimilate the best of the methods practised in India. I was Staff
officer in 1867 to, I believe, the first Flying Column which left
Aldershot, and when I sent out those in 1889, I tried to bring the
instruction up to date.
For this purpose, during the ten days or fortnight that each of the
three columns was in the field, I not only kept it mobilised from
Monday morning to Saturday night, but also the troops remaining in
Aldershot, as this gave me the power of attacking the columns, which
moved around Aldershot in a circle on a radius of from one to two
marches.
The constant state of readiness from Monday to Saturday interfered with
Society engagements; but my comrades accepted the innovations in a
soldier-like manner, and I was enabled to test the precautions taken by
the columns to ensure security by day and night, by sending parties out
to endeavour to effect surprises. I always accompanied the attackers
as Umpire in chief. Mansfield Clarke was the only General who escaped
being surprised in our first year’s operations.
On the 22nd of July, after the conclusion of a parade of the Cavalry
brigade, the Commander-in-Chief, in the presence of Commanding officers
and Squadron leaders, animadverted strongly on my practising Night
operations, of which he expressed strong disapproval; adding that he
had never carried them out, and he especially disapproved of horses
being employed, as it interfered with their rest.
The Chief on this occasion declined to come to lunch, and rode straight
back to Farnborough Station. I sent my Aide-de-camp, Captain Babington,
who was the finest horseman in the Division, to Government House at
speed, whence, carrying a basket on his arm, he produced at the station
something in the shape of light refreshments for the Head Quarters
Staff.
When we were alone, Major Parsons,[294] the senior Aide-de-camp,
observed, “It is scarcely possible, sir, you heard everything the
Commander-in-Chief said?” “Why?” and I repeated the Chief’s words
almost verbatim. “But when you saluted I could not see a muscle of your
face move.” I then described the scene I had witnessed some twenty
years earlier on the same spot, when the Colonel of the “Wait-a-bits”
gave us an object lesson in discipline (_vide_ vol. i. pp. 235–236).
The Chief had been misled, as only one Squadron had been employed once,
at night, for a raid; but Cavalry often moved before dawn in order to
operate at daylight.
The unpleasant affair reacted locally in my favour, for even those
who disliked the increased work I was imposing, resented a General
being rebuked in the presence of his subordinates. Nevertheless, I
felt that my position was difficult, and wrote that evening to the
Adjutant-General offering to resign the command. This he strongly
discouraged, writing, “Pray go on as you are doing;” and I did
so. At a Ceremonial parade which followed soon afterwards, the
Commander-in-Chief announced “He had never seen anything better,” which
praise was repeated practically at every succeeding inspection during
my command. The Chief had previously apprehended novel tactics implied
relaxation of discipline.
Without the practice of night marches, the Boer War would have lasted
much longer than it did.[295]
Towards the end of July we started some night firing, practising the
repelling of an assault on trenches, the men being instructed to fire
at a tinkling bell, with an occasional electric flash on a target.
On the 7th August His Imperial Majesty the German Emperor reviewed the
Division. He is bright, with a decided direct manner; a good horseman.
His quick and very intelligent mind takes in every detail at a glance,
and he possesses a marvellous memory. In speaking of our soldiers
boxing, the Emperor asked, “How do you manage to prevent the men of a
defeated boxer’s regiment quarrelling in the canteens?” I said, “Your
Majesty, nearly all Britons are true sportsmen by instinct, and accept
the umpire’s decision; moreover, the championship is an honour which
never induces bad feeling.”
He was galloping on the Fox Hills, overlooking Aldershot from the
eastward, when he passed an Infantry soldier with pouches for carrying
the ammunition up into the firing line, and stopped to examine the
sack. As he restarted, he remarked on it in German, and on my replying,
asked, “When and where did you learn your German?” “Oh, many years ago,
sir.” “Well, how have you kept it up?” “I go occasionally to shoot with
a friend in the Rhein Pfalz. He has a large tract of forest.”
Two years later I wished to go to the German manœuvres, and wrote to
our Military Attaché stating that His Majesty the Emperor had been kind
enough to ask me in 1889 and 1890, when I was unable to avail myself of
the honour, but I should like to go in 1891, as for personal reasons
I wanted a change of scene. The Emperor replied, “Tell him I am not
asking any officers this year; but I remember he has a shooting, or one
of his friends has a shooting, in the Rhein Pfalz, and if he should be
there in my country before the Manœuvres, I shall be delighted to send
him an invitation.”
The Emperor spoke very well in English at the lunch given by Command
of Her Majesty the Queen, and after it was over the Princess of Wales
preceded the Imperial cortege to the Saluting Base, on which the troops
assembled while the Imperial party lunched. His Majesty the Emperor
galloped at speed for half a mile, and reining in his horse gracefully
immediately in front of the carriage of the Princess of Wales, saluted.
All the attending Staff reined up in their places except one German
Naval officer, whose horse careered on wildly, until hearing all
those following stop, pulled up very suddenly, with the result that
the officer described a circle in the air, and sat on the ground
immediately in front of the Royal carriage.
When at the conclusion of the Review the Emperor was cantering back
to the station, the same officer passed him at a gallop, and coming
on some gorse bushes, the horse jumped them, with the result that the
officer again fell. As the Emperor passed he observed to me, “By Jove,
there’s the Admiral overboard again.”
His Majesty, in thanking me, proposed to give me a decoration, but I
explained that we were not allowed to wear them,[296] and he sent me,
as he did to Admiral Sir E. Commerell, a magnificent uniform sword,
the hilt studded with diamonds. As I learnt later, the Emperor was
really pleased, and one of his generals spoke frankly about the day’s
operations to a friend of mine, who wrote down briefly all he said.
“Everything was much better than we expected. The Cavalry, though
individually man and horse is excellent, do not ride in sufficiently
close formation in the charge. The Artillery horses and equipment is
the finest ever seen. The Infantry are well drilled, but their pace is
too short.”
There had been much perturbation in Pall Mall as to this visit, for on
previous occasions the Aldershot Division had rehearsed all parades for
Royalties, thus losing time which should have been spent in training
for Field Service, which I invariably, during my command, declined
to interrupt for any Spectacular parades. Lord Wolseley declining to
interfere, contented himself by saying, “Trust the man on the spot,”
and carried his point, though with some difficulty.
I received a very kind letter from the Secretary of State,
congratulating me on the “brilliant success.” He added, “Personally I
was also exceedingly gratified by the March past, because some had been
croaking to me that it would be spoiled by the previous manœuvres.”
In thanking Mr. Stanhope, I explained that “the operations were as
realistic as they could be under the given conditions,--a fixed
hour, the area to be confined to the vicinity of the lunch tent, and
the March past to be fitted in before the Emperor’s return, which
necessitated the attacks being prearranged, and timed like ‘turns’ in
a large music hall. It is true I designed the movements, but there my
personal share ended; the five general officers carried out my ideas
with perfect loyalty, accepting victory or defeat _cum æquo animo_,
and it is to them and the Divisional Staff, the general success of the
day is due.”
I went on to praise the arrangements made by Colonel North
Crealock,[297] the Assistant Quarter-Master-General, who received and
despatched troops attending the Review from outside Aldershot, every
unit of which was met by an Army Service Corps officer, de-trained,
conducted to a Rest camp with all sanitary arrangements, supplied with
food, re-entrained, and enabled to reach its permanent station within
its scheduled time.
At the end of August, Lords Wolseley, Wantage, and Harris came down to
see “Field firing” on Bisley Common, and with Sir Henry Brakenbury and
myself were riding behind a Maxim gun, which was drawn by a mule, when,
the stopper not being on, a bullet was accidentally fired, passing
between our horses’ legs. After I had rebuked the man in charge for his
carelessness, his comrade made the quaint observation, “My, wasn’t that
dangerous; it might have shot the poor moke.”