That interruption disposed of, we now return to our Invasion. Owing,
perhaps, to the dilatory nature of our proceedings, the invaders have
already left the coast, and pushed their way some distance inland, the
result being that matters are beginning to look exceedingly
uncomfortable for the unfortunate invaded. The regular army in Ireland
happens to be at an exceptionally low ebb. It has been heavily drawn on
lately to fill up vacancies at the seat of war, no one in authority
having of course dreamt of anything so improbable as a sudden incursion
into Dublin Bay. The Commander-in-Chief is reported to be half dead with
work and worry at the Royal Hospital. His subordinates are behaving like
heroes. The “Polis"--otherwise the Royal Irish Constabulary--are doing
soldiers’ work, and doing it a good deal better than most soldiers.
Dublin is believed to be for the moment safe, but the condition of the
country immediately south of it is critical to a degree. No one seems to
be certain what the opinion of the bulk of the people really is.
Invaders, especially French ones, are historically dear to their hearts,
but the thing has been sprung upon them this time with rather
uncomfortable rapidity, and there is something extremely sickening, so
everybody admits, about the smell of burning roofs.
Immediately upon landing, the enemy established their headquarters, with
no little strategical discretion, in a naturally defensible position
upon the Wicklow Hills, from which point they are cheerfully engaged in
sending out raiding parties over the whole of the adjacent country. The
portion of Kildare nearest Wicklow has already been overrun, and most of
its villages burnt, despite their nearness to the Curragh; Naas and
Sallins are reported as likely to be the next assailed. The suddenness
of the catastrophe has strained the military resources almost to
breaking point, and the soldiers are forced to be kept together, not
only to defend the approaches to the metropolis, but also in the hope of
being able to bring on a general engagement in some more hopeful
position than against the fortified camp in Wicklow. The result is that,
beyond a limited number of constabulary, the general in command of the
district is unable to spare a man for the protection of the smaller
places.
Before that harassed and overdriven officer there suddenly appears--the
Civilian! How many, or how few, is a detail. Few or many they are all
civilians, undiluted, country-bred civilians, good shots and good
riders; men of varying ages, but all with a more or less intimate
knowledge of the local conditions. They are--but generalities are so
unsatisfactory--let me take one of them, and suppose myself to be him,
and I can be multiplied afterwards as required. Here I am; big and
strong, level-headed and resolute; no boy--far from it--but sound in
health and vigorous, a local magnate in a small way, fairly good at most
sports, rather more than fairly good at rifle-shooting; a familiar
figure formerly at Wimbledon, more recently at Bisley. Nothing can be
further from my intentions than to obtrude my services; I wish that
clearly to be understood. At the same time if I can be of any use under
the circumstances, you had better say so!
With South Africa fresh in all our minds, can there be any question as
to the answer? What more desirable material could unfortunate,
under-manned commander have, or desire? As to what he could do with me
there are plenty of answers ready. He might place me in certain chosen
positions, rifle and field-glass beside me, and desire me to pick off
certain of the enemy’s officers, who are known to be surveying the
country. He might fill a country house or two with me and others like
me, and so prepare pleasant little surprises for those who expected to
find them vacant. He might do many things, only--and this is the point I
am trying to arrive at--would he venture to do any of them? If such a
man as I am representing myself to be were liable to be treated as the
Germans in 1870 treated French fighting civilians, including women, and
as the French would no doubt have treated German ones, in such a case it
is hard to see how any responsible commander dare run such a risk,
however great his need, or our willingness to serve. Risks are of course
of the essence of war, but there are risks and risks. No one proposes to
hunt with the hounds, and then run with the hares; to fight while
fighting is reasonably safe, and afterwards slip hurriedly back into
mufti; to play a soldier’s part, yet claim the immunities of civilians.
Let the risks be no worse than those which any soldier runs, and our
faithful civilian is satisfied, and asks no more. There are, however,
risks which it is hardly proper, hardly I may say decent, for any
self-respecting man to run. That our typical civilian would be really
liable in these days to be shot in cold blood, most people would find a
difficulty in conceiving, yet how does he stand officially? above all,
how does he stand internationally? Have the risks of so monstrous, so
utterly abhorrent a contingency, been once and for ever removed? and if
so, since when? This is the point that one would like extremely to have
authoritatively cleared up, seeing that the number of civilians, capable
at a pinch of defending their own homes, possibly even their own fields
and parishes, seem likely as the years go on to increase. Organised, or
unorganised, the straight-shooting civilian has arrived, and he proposes
to stay. He is still, however, an entirely new factor in the body
politic, and, like other new-comers, he requires therefore to be neatly
adjusted to the rest. That under no circumstances he could be of any
use, few, I take it, would be bold enough to assert. These are hardly
days when any possibly useful national asset can be left with safety
upon the shelf. Let our sturdy civilian be able, in case of capture, to
claim the same amount of amenity that is accorded in all decent warfare
to the captured soldier, in that case I should say--speaking, of course,
merely as a fool--that the more of him we had the better and the more
comfortable for all of us.