I went by Elgin to Nairn, and spent an interesting twenty-four hours with the family of my late friend. On my return south I received the following courteous letter from Lord Beaconsfield, and I went to Hughenden on the 23rd.
“Hughenden Manor, Sept. 15th, 1878.
“Dear Sir Evelyn,—The Queen wishes that I should see you, but it is not only in obedience to Her Majesty’s commands, but for mine own honour and gratification, that I express a hope that your engagements may permit you to visit Hughenden on the 23rd inst., and remain there until the following Friday.—Your faithful servant,
“Beaconsfield.”
There was a house party, those interesting me most after my host being Mr. Edward Stanhope, then known as “Young Stanhope,” afterwards Secretary of State for War, and Sir Drummond Wolff. Lord Beaconsfield asked me to come and stroll with him on the terrace the morning after my arrival,—a walk which we shared with his peacocks,—and he asked me many questions about soldiers and South Africa, I endeavouring to parry his queries respecting Sir Bartle Frere. In the course of his conversation he expressed unbounded admiration for Sir Garnet Wolseley, telling me that when he embarked for South Africa he had said to him: “Now, I trust you—you trust me.” Then passing on to other soldiers, he asked if I had known Colonel Home. I explained that I had lived for many weeks in a hut of leaves on the West Coast of Africa with him, and, moreover, had been associated with him at Aldershot. His Lordship said: “That man had the biggest brain of any soldier I have met.” I agreed heartily, but then Lord Beaconsfield rather spoilt the value of his judgment by observing, “Why, it was Home who made me acquire Cyprus!” Home foresaw clearly that England must, for the sake of India, acquire a predominant interest in Egypt, and at one time had made a plan for building a gigantic fort in the bed of the sea, three miles outside Port Said.
The second night, after the ladies had left the dining-room, somebody remarked on the news in the evening papers that Mr. Waddington had been appointed French Ambassador at the Court of St. James, and went on to say how extraordinary it was that the French found it necessary to nominate an Englishman to that position, appealing to Lord Beaconsfield for his opinion. His Lordship replied: “The fact is, the French have never had a native Frenchman worthy of the name of statesman.” I observed gently: “My Lord, have you forgotten Colbert?” He turned to me, saying somewhat sharply: “You don’t seem to be aware that Colbert was a Swiss!” I did not think it necessary to contradict my host, and a much older man, by stating the fact that, although educated in Switzerland, Colbert was born at Rheims, and submitted to the suppressing looks of my fellow guests, who chorused: “Yes, Colbert was a Swiss!” I was sitting next but one to His Lordship, and then in a low tone observed: “My Lord, how about Sully?” Sir Drummond Wolff from the end of the table called out: “What is that you are saying?” “Oh, nothing, I only made another suggestion;” but our host, drawing himself up, said in his slow, measured voice: “I now feel I made a rash and inaccurate statement. Sir Evelyn Wood challenged it, and I could not agree with him when he instanced Colbert, but he has now reminded me of Sully, who was not only a Frenchman, but a very great minister. I admit my mistake.”
In the drawing-room, later in the evening, Drummond Wolff came up to me and said: “I say, how on earth did you manage to remember Sully?” “When I was small,” I replied, “my parents were poor, and we had few toys, but in our nursery there was a French history book, The Kings and Queens of France, and I often looked at a picture of Sully standing at the door with a portfolio of papers, having surprised Henri IV., who was on his hands and knees carrying two of Gabrielle D’Estrées’ children on his back.”
I saw by Lord Beaconsfield’s manner that if I stayed till the end of the week, as I had been invited, I should never escape a searching inquisition respecting Sir Bartle Frere’s action in declaring war, so on Wednesday night I asked my host’s permission to take my leave next morning. As we were going to bed, I said: “You will allow me to thank you, and say good-bye, as I am going by the earliest train.” He replied: “There is no earlier train than 8.23, and as I am always up at 7 I shall have the pleasure of seeing you.” As this was just what I wanted to avoid, I told the butler I would have my breakfast at 7.30 in my bedroom, and at that hour rang, and asked why it had not been brought. He answered that it was in an ante-room, close at hand, where a fire had been lighted. I had scarcely sat down before I heard the measured step of his Lordship on the stairs, and as he came in, after greeting him, I asked him whether he had read an article in a magazine which I had open on the table. He replied somewhat shortly, “No,” but he had come to talk to me about other matters, and he proceeded to put many searching questions as to Sir Bartle Frere’s procedure with the Zulu nation.
We all knew in December that the Government had refused General Thesiger the reinforcements he had asked, as the Cabinet wished to avoid war, but the High Commissioner and the General were of opinion that matters had then gone too far to avoid it. Lord Beaconsfield asked me: “Will you please tell me whether, in your opinion, the war could have been postponed for six months?” “No, sir.” “For three months?” “I think possibly.” “For one month?” “Certainly.” “Well, even a fortnight would have made all the difference to me, for at that time we were negotiating with Russia at San Stefano, and the fact of our having to send out more troops stiffened the Russian terms.” “But, sir,” I said, “you surely do not mean to say the sending out of four or five battalions and two cavalry regiments altered our military position in Europe?” He said: “Perhaps not,—but it did in the opinion of the Russians, who imagined we were sending an Army Corps.” He then went on to say: “You are young; some day you may be abroad, and let me urge you to carry out, not only the letter of the Cabinet’s orders, but also the spirit of its instructions.” Two years later, after Majuba, I had to ponder often on this admonition.
On the 16th October the Military Secretary informed me that the Colonial Office had brought to the notice of the Commander-in-Chief “the very valuable Political services” I had rendered when in command of a column in Zululand. Sir Bartle Frere had brought the services of my friend Colonel Pearson also to notice, and the fact that the only result in my case was an expression of His Royal Highness’s gratification, which caused him to make a note in the records of the War Office, did not detract from the pleasure I had on reading of Pearson’s being made a Knight Commander of the Order of Saint Michael and St. George.
There were many discussions amongst the Heads of the Army on the question of my promotion. His Royal Highness the Commander-in-Chief was conscientiously opposed to it, and indeed to all promotion by selection, having been a consistent advocate of advancement by seniority. He held an officer should command a battalion when he was forty, but on the other hand maintained that a Colonel should become a Major-General only by seniority. He said more than once, “Men are much of a muchness; I find officers very much on a par.”[203] Lord Penzance’s committee pointed out, however, that if the system advocated by the Commander-in-Chief was maintained the average of Majors-General would be sixty-four. The senior Staff officers appointed by him naturally reflected his views. There was, however, a Colonel of very decided opinions then in the office, for whom the Adjutant-General sent, and asked: “Would you object to Evelyn Wood being put over your head?” He replied: “Do you consider he would make a good general?” “Yes, his reports are good.” “Then, sir, I think you should promote him; and having said that, may I further add I do not think you have any right to ask my opinion.”
Sir Garnet Wolseley did his utmost to get me promoted on Public grounds. In addressing the Commander-in-Chief from South Africa, on the 18th July,[204] he wrote: “I earnestly hope that Your Royal Highness will be enabled to recommend Colonel Wood to Her Majesty for the permanent rank of Major-General, not as a reward for what he has done, but in the interests of the Queen’s Army, and of the State.” The Chief, ignoring the Public grounds question, replied: “Evelyn Wood I know as an excellent man.... I have my doubts, however, whether Wood has not received his full reward with a K.C.B. and a Good Service Pension.” The Commander-in-Chief was misinformed as to the rewards he mentioned. He had given me the Good Service Pension in March 1879, on General Thesiger’s strong remonstrance that I was the only officer unrewarded for the Gaika War, and the K.C.B. was given for my services in Northern Zululand, before the battle of Kambula.[205]