the bereaved parent asked, ‘Had he his hurts before?’ and on being told, ‘Ay, on the front,’ replied—
‘Why then, God’s soldier be he,
Had I as many sons as I have hairs,
I would not wish them to a fairer death.’
Of the gallant Prince Imperial we may say, ‘Ay, all eighteen wounds on the front.’”
CHAPTER XXXIV
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.