His speeches may be obvious and even trite; his letters may lack any flavour of personality; but these dispatches are literature. Like his hero Napoleon, like Cæsar and Wellington, Sir John French has forged a literary style for himself. There is nothing amateurish or journalistic about his communications from the front. The dispatch from Mons, for instance, is a masterpiece of lucid and incisive English. It might well be printed in our school-histories, not merely as a vivid historic document, but as a model of English prose.
Not that Sir John French's style is an accident. Like most of the other successes of his career, it is the result of design. The man who laboriously "crammed" tactics laboured equally hard over the art of writing. The many prefaces which he has written to famous books on strategy and war bear traces of the most careful preparation.
Apart from his dispatches, however, French has written some virile, telling English in his prefaces to several books on cavalry and on military history. The most interesting is that which he wrote for Captain Frederick von Herbert's The Defence of Plevna. He prefaces it with a dramatic little coincidence of war capitally told. "During the last year of the South African War, while directing the operations in Cape Colony, I found myself, late one afternoon in February, 1902, at the north end of the railway bridge over the Orange River at Bethulie, strangely attracted by the appearance of a well-constructed and cleverly hidden covered field work, which formed an important part of the 'Bridge head.' Being somewhat pressed for time I rode on and directed my aide-de-camp to go down into the fort, look round it, and then catch me up. He shortly overtook me with an urgent request to return and inspect it myself. I did so, and was very much struck, not only with the construction of the work and its excellent siting, but also with all the defence arrangements at that point of the river. Whilst I was in the fort the officer in charge arrived and reported himself. Expressing my strong approval of all I had seen, I remarked that it brought back to my mind a book I had read and re-read, and indeed studied with great care and assiduity—a book called The Defence of Plevna, by a certain Lieutenant von Herbert, whom, to my regret, I had never met. 'I am von Herbert, and I wrote the book you speak of,' was the reply of the officer to whom I spoke."[22]
OSMAN PASHA
Osman Pasha was a soldier after French's own heart. Indeed, his tenacity was probably equal to that of his critic. Hence this fine tribute: "The great soldier who defended Plevna refused to acknowledge such a word as defeat. When things were at their worst his outward demeanour was calmest and most confident. There was no hysterical shrieking for supports or reinforcements. These might have reached him, but through treacherous jealousy he was betrayed and left to his own resources. In spite of this no thought of capitulation or retreat ever entered the mind of Osman Pasha...."[23] What a wonderful little cameo of courage!
One wonders whether the school-boy who sent French the following letter on his return from South Africa knew the quality of his writing.
"My Dear French,—You are a great British General. I want your autograph, but, whatever you do, don't let your secretary write it."
I have said that Sir John French is the average Englishman in an accentuated degree. How then does he regard war? If the plain truth be told, we are not at heart a martial nation. We have made war when we have been compelled to it by the threat of an Armada or the menace of a Napoleon. But we have not cultivated war, at least since our wode days, as a pastime and a profession. Nor is French that abnormal being, an Englishman governed by the blood lust. Mrs. Despard has said that in reality he regards war as a hideous outrage. He has no delusions as to the glory of war. By no chance could he be ranked among the romanticist of the battlefield. That, perhaps, is why he never is, never has been, ruthless or remorseless with the men whom he commands.
FRENCH AND THE SUFFOLKS
If ever French had cause for anger, it was over the unlucky incident of the Suffolks, the one failure unwarrantably attributed to his ever victorious arms. Yet he was the one officer who softened the bitterness of that reverse to the men. He met the regiment in the Transvaal just eight months after the disaster. His speech to the troops, as reported in at least one paper, is well worthy of preservation. After referring to his pleasure in meeting them all again, he said: "What you did at Colesberg is still fresh in my recollection ... but what I wish especially to recall is the sad event of the night of January 5th and 6th, and to express my sympathy with you on the loss of your gallant leader, Colonel Watson, who on that night showed splendid qualities as a noble and able officer. Now, it has come to my knowledge that there has been spread about an idea that that event cast discredit of some sort upon this gallant regiment. I want you all to banish any such thought from your minds as utterly untrue. You took part ... in a night operation of extreme difficulty on a pitch dark night, and did all in your power to make it a success. So do not let any false idea get into your minds. Think rather that what took place brings honour to your regiment, and add this event to the long list of honours it has won in the past. I want you all to bear in mind about such night operations, that they can never be a certain success, and because they sometimes fail it does not, therefore, bring discredit on those who attempted to carry them out. You must remember that, if we always waited for an opportunity of certain success, we should do nothing at all, and that in war, fighting a brave enemy, it is absolutely impossible to be always sure of success: all we can do is to try our very best to secure success—and that you did on the occasion I am speaking of. I thank you for that and all the good work you have done since, and remember above all that no slur whatever attaches to your regiment for the result of that occasion."