War's Brighter Side Part 23

I see my handsome and gifted colleague, Mr. Landon, rise to toast the High Commissioner. What's this we hear? He is welcoming the Viceroy as a brother in journalism, a newspaper man like ourselves. Up rises the man who lives in the heart of care and the furnace of dissension--pale, grave, concentrated, like one who thinks of but one thing and has but one thing to do--and that a thing gigantic. He replies that it is true that he was once a writer like ourselves; that he enjoyed those days; that he made delightful friends and spent glad hours in them; that he has had much to do with the gentlemen of the Press in Capetown, and that his relations with all have been without a flaw. After that he speaks but little of the heart of care where his official bed is laid, or of the furnace blasts of treason and of discord round his chair at the Cape, but, with una.s.sumed modesty, calls our attention to the military magician across the table and to what he has done.

It is Mr. Gwynne who rises next--one of the very best-equipped war correspondents with the British forces, both as a campaigner and a critic of war, and high among the best as a writer. It is fitting that he should introduce the Field-Marshal, for he is liked and trusted by his distinguished guest, who has discovered, I fancy, that under the correspondent's khaki beats the heart of the soldier.

Lord Roberts replied that he was very proud to be the guest of the war correspondents. He liked to have them with him, and he was glad when they criticised whatever was amiss, for he profited by reading what they said. Turning to us, the Field-Marshal remarked, "You share all our hards.h.i.+ps and exposure. All the troops do not engage in every battle, but you go to all, so that you experience even more danger than most of us. May I call you 'comrades'?"

I remember that he spoke earnestly of the work Sir Alfred Milner was doing, and credited that statesman with the most difficult task of any man who served the Empire. One other bit of his address I recall--a mere phrase, but a remarkable one: "The gentlemen I command--my gentlemanly army."

It was my good fortune to introduce Rudyard Kipling--a delicate as well as a proud task, because I knew that fulsome praise, or even the most honest appreciation, would make him uncomfortable. I remember that I spoke of the narrow compa.s.s of Shakspere's renown in his day, and the world-wide fame of a man like Kipling in these days of mult.i.tudinous newspapers and telegraphs and cables.

"Gentlemen," said the poet, "you remember the story of the artist Whistler in Paris. An admirer came to him and said: 'Master, you and Velasquez are the greatest exponents of the art of painting.' 'True, true,' said Mr. Whistler, 'but why drag in Velasquez?' (A pause.) In all sincerity I ask you why need you drag in Shakspere? There is not a name in all literature more disheartening to those who try to do a bit of earnest work at writing. There is not a thought, an emotion, a picture, a bit of description that has not been written before--and written much better than we can write it--by William. We found a volume of his works in the office of THE FRIEND. Take war. In 'Henry V.' you will find all that can be written--all the glory and all the shame, all the valour and the sordidness, the excitement and the pomp--you will find it all in 'Henry V.' better than any one can write it now. In all sincerity, then, I ask you, why drag in Shakspere?

"I propose to you to-night, gentlemen, the health of the man who has taught the British Empire its responsibilities, and the rest of the world its power, who has filled the seas with transports, and the earth with the tramp of armed men, who has made Cape Town see in Table Bay such a sight as she never saw before and, please G.o.d, will never see again; who has turned the loafer of the London streets into a man, and called out him who led our fathers to Kandahar, and who knew not what he did; who has made the Uitlander of South Africa stand shoulder to shoulder with the boundary rider of New Zealand, and taught the men of New South Wales to pick up the wounded men who wear the maple leaf--and all in support of the mother-country. Gentlemen, I give you the name of the Empire-builder--Stepha.n.u.s Johannes Paulus Kruger."

After the great guests went home a dozen or fifteen of us remained and enjoyed an impromptu little sing-song, when this to me touching and singular incident occurred. General Pole-Carew came to me and said, "Your son Lester should go home and to bed. He is in a high fever. I know what it means, for I have had it six times. Look after him well."

My son was then in the thirteenth day of an attack of enteric, about which he had said not a word to any one. In that condition he had drawn the pictures on the _menus_ of Lord Roberts, General Pole-Carew, General French (who could not come), Lord Stanley, General Colvile, Colonel Otter, Mr. Kipling, and others. Lester, on hearing what the General had said, declared it was no news to him and, after thanking the General, went home and to bed. There, until we could get him to a hospital, Mr. Kipling nursed him with consummate skill and the gentleness of a woman; interesting and, to me, precious memories of a world in which some of us find too few of such suggestions of the better world to come.

In this "Free State Hospital," with the ministrations of the matron, Miss Young, and her devoted lady nurses, the same strong essence of unselfishness made the siege of sickness a period of pleasure.

Generals, colonels, correspondents and all of the salt of the army went there often to cheer the patients--one of whom was Mr. Oppenheim of the _Daily News_.

We four private men, who gave this dinner in our own name to our own friends, have been a great deal criticised, but it is a noticeable fact that the only critics are the men who were not invited to the feast.

THE FRIEND.

(_Edited by the War Correspondents with Lord Roberts' Force._)

No. 10] BLOEMFONTEIN, WEDNESDAY, MARCH 28, 1900. [Price One Penny.

GOVERNMENT NOTICE.

Notice is hereby given that, communication with the Cape Colony having been restored, the Laws and Regulations of the Customs Convention have been put into force by virture of the proclamation of Field-Marshal Lord Roberts, dated the 20th instant, and that from and after this date Government Notice, No. 106, published in the "Gouvernements Courant" of the 27th October, 1899, by which the Customs dues on provisions and merchandise were temporarily suspended will be considered null and void, in so far as those portions of the State now occupied by Her Majesty's troops are concerned.

By order J. H. MEIRING, Collector of Customs.

Customs' House, Bloemfontein, 24th March, 1900.

PROCLAMATION.

Whereas it is necessary that all State and private property in the South African Republic and the Orange Free State shall be protected from wanton destruction and damage,

NOW THEREFORE;

I, FREDERICK SLEIGH BARON ROBERTS OF KHANDAHAR, K.P., G.C.B., G.C.S.I., G.C.I.E., V.C., Field Marshal, Commanding-in-Chief the British Forces in South Africa, do hereby give notice that all persons who, within the territories of the South African Republic or the Orange Free State shall authorise or be guilty of the wanton destruction or damage or the counselling, aiding, or a.s.sisting in the wanton destruction or damage of public or private property (such destruction or damage not being justified by the usages and customs of civilised warfare), will be held responsible in their persons and property for all such wanton destruction and damage.

Given under my hand at Bloemfontein, this Twenty-sixth day of March, 1900.

G.o.d SAVE THE QUEEN.

ROBERTS, Field Marshal, Commanding-in-Chief Her Majesty's Forces in South Africa.

SIR ALFRED MILNER.

BY PERCEVAL LANDON.

The High Commissioner of South Africa left Bloemfontein after the mercifully abortive conference on June 6th of last year. Yesterday he re-entered the town. The interval has been for some a time of hard fighting, for all a time of anxiety, and amid the enthusiasm of his welcome to the capital, his strong confidence during the darker days, his unswerving fidelity to the high ideal of his Imperial work, must be in the minds of all.

His entry into Bloemfontein, the capital of one of the two colonies destined to fall into line with the progress of United South Africa, is an occasion that will be recognised by the historian of this war as closing one "swelling act of the Imperial theme."

Half--perhaps more than half--of Lord Roberts' work has been done; the greater part of Sir Alfred Milner's task lies still before him. In welcoming him within its walls Bloemfontein does not forget that long after the transports have sailed with the last of the troops of the expedition, the High Commissioner will still be confronted with a gigantic work, requiring alike foresight, tact, and strength of will.

And Bloemfontein, like the rest of the Empire, is well content to leave in the hands of Sir Alfred Milner the solution of the problem upon the right interpretation of which the fortunes of this enormous federation must depend.

"DRIVING THE OX."

Sing they who will of the Yeomen Imperial, Gillies, Scouts, "Tigers," and bold C.I.V.; Others may hold to more usual material, Horse, Foot, and Rifles, and Artillerie.

But there's a corps with its name writ in History-- Bold they as lions and steadfast as rocks-- Gaily we'll troll our song, Slow as we stroll along-- Trickle and roll along-- Driving the Ox!

But when the war-cloud frowns thicker and lowereth, When the quick-moving battalions are met; Not where the soft-hissing bullet most showereth, Not in the forefront our places are set.

Still drive we on, though a day's march in rear we be, O'er veldt and vlei, with the mud to our hocks-- Still will we push along, Nor sadly hush our song, Though we don't rush along, Driving the Ox!

Fill, then, a cup to the Beeves of Her Majesty, Long in the rear may their colours be seen!

Heavy their loads, but their hearts light as anything, Doing strong work for their country and Queen.

What though they jeer who sweep by with the mounted troops?

Treat we as nought all their jibes and their mocks.

Though ne'er a fight we'll see, Cheerful and bright we'll be, We're a grand sight to see, Driving the Ox!

"OLD MAN."

FABLES FOR THE STAFF.[7]

[Footnote 7: Copyrighted in England and America. Used here by permission.]

THE PERSUASIVE POM-POM.

BY RUDYARD KIPLING.

III.

A Field-Artillerist pa.s.sing a newly-imported Pom-pom overwhelmed it with Contumely, saying, "What has a Gunner to do with an Unqualified Sewing-machine?"

To this the virtuous Mechanism returned no answer, but communicated these Atrocious Sentiments to a fellow Pom-pom in the Opposing Army which, later, catching the Field-battery crossing a Donga, gave it Ten-a-penny for two Minutes to the Confusion of all concerned.