But soon more interesting events were to take place, for before the end of the year the South African War had begun. After what was known then as the “black week,” when, in the course of a few days, the British public received news of three very distinct reverses, I came to the conclusion that it was impossible for a man of my age to remain in England if by hook or by crook10 he could possibly manage to get out to Africa. The only plan I could think of was to try to get there on the Staff, as Naval11 Aide-de-Camp, on the plea that there was a considerable Naval Brigade being formed to work a battery of 4·7 guns to emulate12 what had already been achieved by their comrades in Natal13. I applied14 to the Prince for aid, and, as usual, not in vain, for, when Field-Marshal Lord Roberts was appointed to be Commander-in-Chief in South Africa, through His Royal Highness’ kind offices the Field-Marshal allowed me to be appointed as Naval Aide-de-Camp on the Headquarter Staff. As it turned out, my duties consisted in doing pretty much the same work as the other Aides-de-Camp, the bulk of which was deciphering and enciphering telegrams; for though when on the march I kept as much in touch with what was called the “Cow-Gun Brigade” (the name being, of course, derived16 from the team of eighteen bullocks that dragged the guns along), I never could discover that they were[230] in want of anything except ammunition17, the fact being, I suppose, that if any particular article was lacking they immediately proceeded to try to annex19 it, and in general they succeeded, much to the delight of the Quarter-Master-General, who told me that they formed the only unit that never gave him any trouble.
Apropos20 of the “black week,” long after I had returned from South Africa, one of Queen Victoria’s gentlemen told me an interesting story on the subject. When the bad news arrived, Queen Victoria,—though she had much too fine, and well-trained a sense of proportion to feel in the least nervous,—thought that nevertheless she would like to consult some Military Authority who had a knowledge of South Africa. Accordingly, the late Sir Evelyn Wood was summoned to Balmoral. When he presented himself he was addressed somewhat as follows:—
“Sir Evelyn, I have sent for you to consult you about the campaign in South Africa, but, mind, I will have no croakers here.” I have always thought that there was something deliciously Elizabethan about this prefatory remark. All this is, I fear, a digression; but to revert21 to the end of 1899,—the main point for me was to get out to South Africa somehow, and that I succeeded in doing.
Lord Roberts sailed with his Staff on board the mail steamer just before Christmas, calling at Gibraltar on the 26th of December to pick up Lord Kitchener, who had been brought there direct from Egypt in a cruiser. He duly arrived on board on that date, accompanied by[231] his two Aides-de-Camp, Lieutenant23 Walter Cowan, R.N., and Captain James Watson. Cowan is now Rear-Admiral Sir Walter, having done excellent work during the late war, and indeed after it, in the Baltic, while Jimmy Watson has made a career for himself in Egypt, where, amongst other things, he was on the personal Staff of the late Khedive, and I fancy still rejoices in the rank of Watson Pasha. Both of these best of good fellows became friends of mine, and I am glad to say we still occasionally meet.
Next to my Chief and Lord Kitchener, the man who gave me the greatest impression of outstanding ability was the late Colonel Henderson. He was, I think, appointed to the Commander-in-Chief’s Staff as Head Intelligence Officer, and a better appointment never was made. He was a really scientific soldier in the fullest sense of the word; as a literary man he had written one of the very best military books ever printed in his Life of Stonewall Jackson; as a lecturer at the Staff College he had delivered some most interesting and instructive lectures on military subjects,—indeed so clear and well-written were they that, when published, even a sailor like myself could understand and appreciate them. Moreover, he was a most charming companion, and always ready (if asked) to give others the benefit of his great erudition. Unfortunately, even then his health was failing. So ill was he that in a very short time he had to give up riding and take to a Cape5 cart, and, sad to relate, before the campaign was ended he had been invalided28 home to England, and died a year or two after his return. He was very kind[232] to me, and,—perhaps because he was a great admirer of my brother John’s History of the Army,—he often gave me of his best in conversation. It used to be my delight on board the steamer to get hold of him after dinner and induce him to talk.
There was a considerable sprinkling of Germans and Dutchmen among the passengers, most of whom were probably spies; but any designs they might have entertained of making some sort of raid on the Chief’s day-cabin in the hopes of getting hold of his papers, was frustrated29 by the fact that we had a gunboat’s crew on board, going out to relieve men whose time had expired on some small craft on the South African Station. These men were at once made use of as sentries30, and so we were able to post a permanent sentry31 on Lord Roberts’ cabin door, as well as permanent orderlies, to be at his beck and call.
The voyage out was quite uneventful, and our steamer duly arrived at Cape Town on January 10th. The Commander-in-Chief took up his quarters in a very decent little house that had been reserved for him, and I personally settled down close by at the Mount Nelson Hotel. There was not much for the Aides-de-Camp to do while there, for the real work of the Headquarter Staff was the preparation for the advance to Bloemfontein, the entire transport service being reorganised and increased by Lord Kitchener. A few days after our arrival I was sent down to Simon’s Bay to inquire into some complaints that had been lodged32 by the Boer prisoners who were confined on board a transport that was anchored there. The[233] complaints were absolutely frivolous33 and hardly worth inquiring into, but were rather amusing as giving an insight into the character of that curious creature whom the British Tommy invariably talked of as “Brother Boer.” Their principal grievance34 was that they were overcrowded. On inquiry35 I found out that the transport in question had brought 1200 British troops from England, and whenever it was the least rough all the lower main-deck ports had to be closed, and naturally the ship was under a full head of steam all the time she was making her passage through the tropics. Probably under those conditions the heat and want of air was very trying, but war is war, and discomforts36 must be expected. The Boer prisoners on board numbered only 440; every sort of ventilation could be freely opened while the ship swung round her anchors, and of course no steam was up. So I explained to the Boer officer who was the spokesman that what was good enough for 1200 British troops at sea was luxury for a handful of prisoners in harbour. He was a decent fellow, and agreed with me that there was no real cause for complaint, but went on to say that Boers were accustomed to the freedom of the veldt and felt the confinement37 very keenly. It then devolved on me to explain that our prisoners at Pretoria, living behind barbed wire, were also, not exactly, having the time of their lives. This seemed to come quite as a revelation to him, and of course I reported that they had nothing whatever to complain of, and the matter dropped.
I had one or two more trips over to Simon’s Bay to report on the 4·7 guns that were being fitted out there[234] as a battery of mobile siege guns, to be used in the field, and manned by the Naval Brigade.
Another little suburban38 trip I made was to Stellenbosch. (The name later became, used as a verb, a polite form of speech for denoting the fact that some unfortunate official had proved incompetent39, and had to be got rid of.) When I went there it boasted of a large remount establishment, the animals being mostly Argentine cobs and Cape ponies40. I succeeded in getting hold of two very useful ones, the Cape pony41 in particular turning out to be a treasure. I had accompanied Lord Kitchener and some of his Staff, who were, I expect, inspecting the establishment from the point of view of transport.
Altogether we were just about two months at Cape Town, and very weary we all were of the place and right glad when the orders came at last to go to the front! The pleasantest incidents in the life there was the constant meeting of all sorts of old friends, who generally turned up for dinner at Groote-Schurr, which, at that time, had been lent by Mr. Cecil Rhodes to Lady Edward Cecil and Lady Charles Bentinck, who were very busy at war work in the town close at hand. Then every day fresh arrivals turned up from England; my cousin, Lady Bagot, (then Mrs. Joycelyn Bagot), and Lady Henry Bentinck had come out to look after the Portland Hospital; the present Lord Derby, then Lord Stanley, arrived on the scene as Press Censor43,—and all one’s friends that came down from the front, either wounded or for a few days’ leave, generally turned up at Groote-Schurr, where open house was kept by[235] Cecil Rhodes for his temporary tenants44 and their friends.
The only other work we Aides-de-Camp had was to cipher15 and decipher the telegrams that poured in all day, which were not finally disposed of until nearly midnight, and two of us were generally on duty with the Chief when he was inspecting or going for a constitutional ride in the cool of the evening.
But on the 6th of February our stay at Cape Town came to an end, and the Headquarter Staff left by train for the Modder, and then events succeeded each other pretty quickly. On the 11th Lord Roberts’ flank march began. As concerned the Headquarter Staff, we moved first to Ramdam, and by the 15th were at Jacobsdaal, where we received the good news that French had relieved Kimberley. On the 17th, Cronje was held up at Paardeberg, and on the 19th Lord Roberts and his Staff arrived there.
I am not going into details about the action at Paardeberg. After what we have experienced lately, I suppose no soldier, nowadays, would do otherwise than agree that it would have been worth while, even at the expense of a considerable quantity of casualties, to have bundled Cronje out of his laager without further delay. Even if a good many men might have been sacrificed in such an assault, they would have been few compared to those who perished later of the germs of typhoid probably picked up during that ten days’ wait at Paardeberg. The river being full of dead animals, the water the men were drinking was poisonous. Now, the British soldier is a thirsty animal (and,[236] indeed, as far as the infantryman is concerned, he has every right to be, when, as in Africa, he was carrying a heavy kit22 under a burning sun and enveloped46 in clouds of dust). The result was that the men were, more than probably, absorbing typhoid germs during the whole of their stay there.
When the Headquarter Staff arrived there on the 19th there were rumours47 of an immediate18 surrender. There must have been further parleys48 of which I knew nothing, for a few days later I was sent under a white flag to the Boers’ laager with a letter addressed to the Boer Commandant. After I had crossed the drift held by the Boers, I was received by them with perfect civility, and duly delivered my letter, to which, apparently49, there was no answer, as I did not bring one back, but I remember well the difficulty I had in getting my horse to cross and recross, so piled up was the river at this fording-place with dead and putrefying animals. A very few days later, on February 27th, I was riding in the same direction again, this time to accompany one of the Generals on the Headquarter Staff, Prettyman by name, who was sent out by the Chief to bring Cronje in. I suppose it was on the strength of this casual acquaintance that Cronje, after his surrender, very much to my disgust, elected to annex my own particular shelter in the Camp, for the use of himself and his old wife, who was the living image of the late Dan Leno when made up for the Christmas pantomime; but it was only for a short time, as he and his 4000 fellow-prisoners were sent down to the Cape next day, most of them en route for St. Helena.
[237]
The next day we had the news of the relief of Ladysmith, on the anniversary of our defeat at Majuba Hill, with all the disgraceful memories of the peace that had been patched up after it. Now at last the disgrace had been wiped out. Well might the Boers say that, after Paardeberg and Ladysmith, we had robbed them even of their Majuba Day.
We were soon on the move after Cronje’s surrender, and by the 12th of March had occupied Bloemfontein. We met with but few difficulties on the road, the only serious trouble being to keep supplies going, and ensure a sufficiency of water. There was one not inconsiderable action on the way, which was fought at Dreifontein, and I was lucky enough to see rather more of it than usual. I had been sent on to select some quarters for the Chief, if there happened to be any available, and had succeeded in finding quite a decent farm, for the moment occupied by our wounded, which would answer the purpose; so my job being completed, and the rest of the Headquarter Staff being many hours behind, I went on with some of my friends among the special correspondents to watch the fighting. I remember that Mr. Gwynne (then, I think, the special correspondent of Reuter, now the well-known editor of the Morning Post) and I settled ourselves down on the top of a very comfortable little kopje, at a convenient distance on the flank of our advance, and watched some of the infantry45 of the Sixth Division take the Boer position. The Boers were holding a line of kopjes within easy view from where we were ensconced, and were keeping up a hot fire on our advancing troops—who were attacking[238] in the most orthodox way in short rushes, and making use of all the cover available. When our troops had fought their way close up to the Boer line we distinctly saw a Boer show himself on the sky-line with his arms up in an obvious attitude of surrender. The attacking force, thinking that it was all over, at once showed themselves, and were received by a heavy volley at close range, which killed and wounded a number of them; the rest, without a pause, rushed on, and in a few minutes the position was captured. As always, the British soldier showed the greatest magnanimity, and instead of bayoneting the Boers, as they had a perfect right to do for what certainly appeared to be a distinct act of treachery, they contented50 themselves with making prisoners of all those who had not succeeded in bolting off on their ponies. The little action at Dreifontein was a very considerable success, and might have been an important one, were it not that, as usual, the underfed and overworked cavalry51 horses were so exhausted52 that a pursuit was rendered impossible.
Two days later, on March 13th, Lord Roberts entered Bloemfontein. During the early morning of that day I had been sent forward to see if I could find some halting-place where the Headquarter Staff could breakfast, and was fortunate enough to find a very comfortable farm for that purpose, which, as it turned out, belonged to a brother-in-law of Steyn’s. The lady of the house, who was quite a nice woman, received us very amiably53, but told us that the Boers never expected we should have left the river and marched in the way we did, as they were persuaded that the route we took would[239] result in the army inevitably54 perishing of thirst, so waterless was that bit of country. I expect the margin55 was narrow, but events justified56 the selection made, and all was well. Just as the Headquarter Staff rode into the town, a column arrived, so Lord Roberts and his Staff halted and pulled out of the way to allow the Grenadier Guards to march in. It was a magnificent sight. The men, after a terrific march, caked with dust, parched57 with thirst, and literally58 in rags, swung past their Chief with their heads erect59, and all the air of conquerors60. For the moment all fatigue61 seemed to have left them, and they marched as if they were returning to their barracks after an hour’s exercise in Hyde Park.
Bloemfontein for the first week or so was quite a pleasant change after about six weeks on the march through a very thirsty country. We began by being billeted in the sort of Government House usually occupied by Steyn and his family. It was quite a good and well-built house, and four of us occupied a large room on the second floor, which we believed to be Mrs. Steyn’s bedroom. I remember we came to the conclusion that the lady in question must have been somewhat primitive62 in her toilet arrangements, for nothing in the shape of washing utensils63 were to be seen; such a thing as a bath, for instance, was obviously non-existent, and indeed there was not even a water-tap above the ground floor. However, my room-mates and myself, who all happened to be old friends, settled down very comfortably. They were Lord Dudley and his brother, Jack26 Ward42 (the present Sir John Ward), and[240] Lord Stanley, who was still doing duty as Press Censor. A short time afterwards, when Colonel Neville Chamberlain gave up his post as Private Secretary to the Commander-in-Chief, Stanley succeeded him, and later accompanied the Chief home. I was unlucky enough to have taken rather a bad chill after a very soaking night at Paardeberg, and though I managed to stick it out until our arrival at Bloemfontein, I had to lay up for a few days with a good deal of fever, so being the invalid27 of the party I was allotted64 the only bed, the rest of my comrades sleeping more or less on the floor. There being nothing particular to do for the moment, the doctor thought I might just as well get a little change and rest, so as soon as I had got rid of my little feverish65 attack I went down to Cape Town for a week, partly for change of air, and principally to buy stores for the Headquarter Mess. The railway was running through to the Cape all right, the only trouble being that the Boers had blown up the big railway bridge at Norval’s Pont, so on my way down I had to cross the river in a boat.
Nothing in South Africa impressed me so greatly as the efficiency of the Railway Corps66. I crossed the Orange River three times in three months, the first time, as above mentioned, in a boat, the second time, a week later, in a train over a temporary bridge, and three months afterwards in a train running over the permanent bridge that is there to this day. During the whole of the advance to Pretoria, when marching along the line, the Railway Engineers succeeded in keeping pace with the Army on the march, bringing up not[241] only their repairing plant, but stores for the Army as well. Though we, who were riding close to the railway line, could see all the rails standing24 on-end, twisted like corkscrews for miles ahead of us, and though the ponts which crossed the innumerable spruits were one and all blown up, the trains succeeded in keeping up with the troops; and even the bridge over the Valsch River at Kroonstadt, which is a real river, only delayed them for a few days. In fact, the ordinary wreckage67 of war is repaired almost as quickly as it is created.
I spent a pleasant week at Groote-Schurr. Cecil Rhodes had returned there after the relief of Kimberley; his brother Frankie, still looking very thin after the privations of the Ladysmith siege, was taking a brief holiday in his brother’s house. Alas68! he also is no longer with us. He was one of my oldest friends, for I had known him since my young days, when hunting from Grantham. He was the kindest of men, and those of the beleaguered69 garrison70 of Ladysmith, who knew him during the siege, were always full of stories of his generosity71 and unselfishness. Ian Hamilton, now General Sir Ian, was another Ladysmith man who came there for a few days’ fattening-up, Billy Lambton, then a Captain in the Coldstream Guards (now General Sir William), was also a guest, during his recovery from a severe shell-wound in the knee received at Magersfontein; whilst the two ladies—Lady Edward Cecil and Lady Charles Bentinck—were still doing their work at Cape Town, with Groote-Schurr for their headquarters.
When my week’s leave had expired, four of us took[242] the train back to Bloemfontein, but I may as well quote an old letter I wrote home at the time to describe my journey.
“We started up a party of four, the two Groote-Schurr ladies, Artie Stanley, and myself. We had two very comfortable carriages, one for the ladies and one for the men, and no end of provisions and champagne72 provided for us by our kind host. It was all very cheery as far as Norval’s Pont, where the railway authorities succeeded in getting our train bodily over the temporary bridge that spanned the Orange River. At Norval’s Pont they had just had the news of Broadwood’s disaster at Sanna’s Post, and the funks had rather set in on the line. Admiral Maxse had telegraphed to his daughter (Lady Edward Cecil) forbidding her to come up any further, and Artie Stanley also received a telegram telling him that no civilians73 were to go on, so all my pleasant companions were bundled out of the train and their places taken by various officers. After a very long delay we got off, and in the middle of the night, at one of the stations, we were all wakened up and ordered to have rifles ready, for the Boers were said to be on the line somewhere. However, it turned out to be only a scare, and as I did not possess a rifle it did not concern me, and eventually in due course, without any further disturbance74, the train arrived here. Next day all was peace again, so telegrams were sent to the ladies to say that they might come up, which they promptly75 did. The day after the panic season set in again, and they were packed off back again to the base. When I got back I found that all the Staff, except the Chief’s own particular little lot, had been shot out of Government House, so, greatly to our comfort, Eddy76 Stanley, Dudley, Bend d’Or (the Duke of Westminster) and I, find ourselves lodged on the ground floor of a very decent house belonging to one Fischer, a prominent Boer statesman, who has bolted.”
The next fortnight at Bloemfontein was very dull and uneventful, and, moreover, rather depressing with the knowledge, that hard work and bad water were, between them, responsible for about 1500 enteric cases[243] in the Bloemfontein hospitals. The daily round was monotonous77 enough. At seven every morning I was in the saddle, and generally went round to see the Naval Brigade, who had made themselves and their cow-guns extremely comfortable at the top of a neighbouring kopje, but as they never were in need of anything, my visits were of the perfunctory order. Later in the day, I took my turn with the other Aides-de-Camp to ride in attendance on the Chief, and work away at the usual deciphering and enciphering business. But our little home, thanks to the fact that one of its leading inhabitants, Lord Stanley, was Press Censor, was, I verily believe, the “hub” of Bloemfontein. Thither78 all the Press correspondents, some eighty in number and locally known as “Stanley’s Light Horse,” used to repair to get their perpetual messages censored79, and (low be it spoken!) when news was scanty80, as it very often was during the long halt at Bloemfontein, to try and pick up a few crumbs81 from us. Between us, we generally could produce the latest camp stories, and when there was nothing better, those very unveracious statements had to serve. The “Specials” had amongst their ranks a number of very clever people, to say nothing of at least one very distinguished82 man in the person of Mr. Rudyard Kipling, whose acquaintance I made then for the first time. Amongst the veterans were Mr. Bennett Burleigh and Mr. Melton Prior, both old acquaintances of mine, whose names had been known for years all over the Empire, whilst amongst the younger men were Messrs. Gwynne, Perceval Landon, and Prevost Battersby,—the latter I[244] had got to know well on the voyage out, we having been fellow-passengers in the same steamer.
It very soon was deemed necessary to start a newspaper, and the Friend was produced to supply the want, under the auspices83 of Rudyard Kipling, Perceval Landon, and Gwynne,—a veritable galaxy84 of talent. It was only the other day that Mr. Kipling and I were talking over old Bloemfontein days, and he gave me a delightful85 account of how he and his coadjutors, having a good deal of space at their disposal, filled it up with advertisements stating that certain little shops in the town could provide every sort of luxury. Most of these said luxuries were purely86 imaginary and probably have not even penetrated87 to Bloemfontein to this day, and he went on to describe the rage of the crowds of customers who had at once swarmed88 into the town thinking to do their shopping!
Towards the end of April, Dudley and I got a few days’ leave from our Chief to accompany a flying column that was going to Taban-Tchu under the command of Ian Hamilton. We loaded up a Cape cart with provisions and once more started on the trek89. And a delightful change it was to be on the veldt again after living for so long in that rather poisonous little town! The objective of the expedition was, I believe, that of a rounding-up movement designed to surround the Boer forces, who were said to be moving to the northward90 somewhere in that neighbourhood. Unfortunately, the Boers were too quick for us, and there was no apparent result, and with the exception of some desultory91 skirmishing on the outskirts92 of[245] Taban-Tchu and Israel Port, the column to which we had attached ourselves had but little fighting to do. Viewed as a pleasure trip it was very agreeable, as the climate was perfection and, to us, it was all new country.
By the end of the week I was back at Bloemfontein again, but this time only for a very few days, as the long, weary period of waiting there had come to an end, and on May 3rd Lord Roberts, with the Headquarter Staff, went by train to Karri Siding, to assume direct command of the Army that was now on the march to Pretoria. It is not my intention to describe Lord Roberts’ march to Pretoria, except from the point of view of a spectator. Very little fighting took place, but it struck me that the Boers were distinctly clever. They wasted a great many days for us by repeatedly putting up a show that was just big enough to force our invading army to deploy93, and the loss of time involved made a very considerable hole in the short winter days of May and June.
By the 12th of May Kroonstadt had been occupied; the Boers had, of course, destroyed the railway bridge that crosses the Valsch River, and it took our railway engineers the best part of a week to span that very fair-sized stream with a temporary bridge that could carry the train. By the 22nd we were on the move again to the northward, and on the 27th the Main Army crossed the Vaal River at Vereeniging, and the invasion of the Transvaal had definitely begun. On the 31st May Johannesburg was captured. I am again quoting from a letter which I wrote home at the time.
[246]
“It was rather fun riding into Johannesburg, but really anything like the villainous faces of the crowd I have never seen. All the Boers, and most of the Dutch and English, had either cleared out or been cleared out. There was nothing left but a mob of low-class foreign Jews, most of them Germans. Never have I seen such brutes94, and my first feeling was one of intense regret that the Boers had not exploded the mines and blown up the entire population at the same time.”
A little less than a week later (June 5th, 1900) Pretoria was reached and was entered by the Commander-in-Chief after a very trifling95 opposition96. The central column, with which the Headquarter Staff moved, had done the 300 miles—that is the distance from Bloemfontein to Pretoria—in thirty-four days, which was good going. The flank columns had even a harder time. Ian Hamilton started three days earlier from Taban-Tchu with his column, and marched 380 miles, having only had eight days’ halt during the whole thirty-seven days. The night we arrived at Pretoria a most amusing dinner was organised by Lord Rosslyn to celebrate the occasion, and I suppose also to commemorate97 his personal release from captivity98, for he had been for some time a prisoner of war at Pretoria. It was immense fun, every one being in the highest spirits. The dinner took place at the hotel, and the company consisted more or less of junior officers from every branch of the Service, released prisoners, and a number of special correspondents; and I, having managed to commandeer a bedroom on the premises99, did my dinner party very comfortably.
Life on the Headquarter Staff at Pretoria was very much on the model of Bloemfontein, with even more[247] telegrams to cope with, but the monotony was broken by the two days’ indecisive action at Diamond Hill—a position that Botha had occupied about sixteen miles from the capital, which was, so long as there was a decent-sized Boer Army there, a distinct menace to Pretoria. The action began early on June 11th, and fighting went on during that and the ensuing day. It was successful in that the Boers retreated and left us in possession of their position, but was quite indecisive, as there was no pursuit, and for more than a month Botha’s commandos were giving us trouble in the neighbourhood of the battlefield.
Personally, I was a heavy loser in the action of Diamond Hill, for my next brother, Lionel, then second in command of the 17th Lancers, was shot dead by a bullet through the heart when in command of a squadron of that regiment100. He and a subaltern of his, Lieut. Charles Cavendish, a son of the late Lord Chesham, and the late Lord Airlie, commanding the 9th Lancers, all fell there and were buried together on the field.
A few days after the action of Diamond Hill I was in attendance on the Chief on rather an interesting occasion, namely when he rode out to meet Baden-Powell, who arrived at Pretoria just about a month after the relief of Mafeking. A few days afterwards I went by train to Johannesburg, partly on a shopping expedition and partly to see a great friend of mine, Bobby White, who was about to start a syndicate there to finance the tramways. My travelling companions were two of the ladies who had arrived with Baden[248]-Powell from Mafeking—Lady Sarah Wilson and Mrs. Godley, both of whom had been through the siege there and were on their way home to England, whither I was, before very long, to follow them.
After two days at Johannesburg I was back again at Pretoria; but my time in Pretoria was rapidly drawing to an end. The Naval Brigade had left the vicinity of Headquarters, so I had no excuse in the way of looking after their wants, as they were far out of my reach. Life at Pretoria was more dull than words can describe, the only duty being the eternal ciphering, which I came to the conclusion could be done just as well by the numerous subalterns on Lord Roberts’ Staff as by an officer of my standing. I consequently decided101, as there was nothing to do, that I might just as well return to my duties on the Staff of the Prince of Wales. Early in July I left Pretoria for Cape Town, and arrived in England at the end of the month.
Africa had been an interesting experience, especially the long marches from the Modder to Pretoria, and my time there was, as long as we were on the move, really delightful. There is something extraordinarily102 attractive about the high veldt; the air is as exhilarating as champagne, and the endless rolling plain without a boundary to be seen has a charm which it is not easy to describe; and though the sun may be occasionally too fierce, and the cold at nights rather too severe after the heat, it is none the less a marvellous climate, and, barring the want of water, it is an ideal place for campaigning. Moreover, the greater part of the time[249] I was living with some of my best friends, and, for a sailor, it was a new experience to see a large British Army doing its job. Besides my old friends, I made the acquaintance of many new ones, several of whose names have since become household words during the late war. To say nothing of such celebrities103 as Lords Roberts and Kitchener, there were Douglas Haig (or rather Lord Haig as he is now), General Lord Rawlinson, Admiral Sir Walter Cowan, all of whom were Staff Officers in those days; and looking over some old letters, written out there, I can congratulate myself on the prescience which led me to prophesy104 that the then Major Douglas Haig was sure to make a name for himself in the future. The only fly in the ointment25 was that, by going abroad, I had missed a very interesting treble event, namely Ambush105 winning the Grand National, and Diamond Jubilee106 securing the Two Thousand Guineas and Derby for the Prince; but it does not need much philosophy to grasp the fact that a man cannot be in two places at once, and good fun as it is to back winners, it was far more satisfactory to have had the privilege of seeing the most interesting part of the South African War from the vantage point of the Headquarter Staff.
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recollect
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strictly
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cape
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| n.午餐，午宴( luncheon的名词复数 ) | |
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8
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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10
crook
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| v.使弯曲；n.小偷，骗子，贼；弯曲(处) | |
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naval
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| adj.海军的，军舰的，船的 | |
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12
emulate
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| v.努力赶上或超越，与…竞争；效仿 | |
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natal
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| adj.出生的，先天的 | |
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14
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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15
cipher
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| n.零；无影响力的人；密码 | |
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16
derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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17
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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18
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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19
annex
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| vt.兼并，吞并；n.附属建筑物 | |
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20
apropos
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| adv.恰好地；adj.恰当的；关于 | |
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21
revert
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| v.恢复，复归，回到 | |
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22
kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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23
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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ointment
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| n.药膏，油膏，软膏 | |
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26
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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28
invalided
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| 使伤残（invalid的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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29
frustrated
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| adj.挫败的，失意的，泄气的v.使不成功( frustrate的过去式和过去分词 )；挫败；使受挫折；令人沮丧 | |
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30
sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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31
sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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32
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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33
frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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34
grievance
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| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
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35
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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36
discomforts
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| n.不舒适( discomfort的名词复数 )；不愉快，苦恼 | |
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confinement
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| n.幽禁，拘留，监禁；分娩；限制，局限 | |
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38
suburban
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| adj.城郊的，在郊区的 | |
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39
incompetent
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| adj.无能力的，不能胜任的 | |
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40
ponies
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| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
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41
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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42
ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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43
censor
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| n./vt.审查，审查员；删改 | |
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44
tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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46
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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47
rumours
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| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
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48
parleys
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| n.和谈，谈判( parley的名词复数 ) | |
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49
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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50
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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51
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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52
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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53
amiably
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| adv.和蔼可亲地，亲切地 | |
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54
inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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55
margin
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| n.页边空白；差额；余地，余裕；边，边缘 | |
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56
justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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57
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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58
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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59
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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60
conquerors
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| 征服者，占领者( conqueror的名词复数 ) | |
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61
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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62
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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63
utensils
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| 器具，用具，器皿( utensil的名词复数 )； 器物 | |
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64
allotted
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| 分配，拨给，摊派( allot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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66
corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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67
wreckage
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| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
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68
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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69
beleaguered
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| adj.受到围困[围攻]的；包围的v.围攻( beleaguer的过去式和过去分词)；困扰；骚扰 | |
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70
garrison
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| n.卫戍部队；驻地，卫戍区；vt.派(兵)驻防 | |
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71
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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72
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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73
civilians
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| 平民，百姓( civilian的名词复数 )； 老百姓 | |
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74
disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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75
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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76
eddy
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| n.漩涡，涡流 | |
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77
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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78
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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79
censored
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| 受审查的，被删剪的 | |
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80
scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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81
crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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82
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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83
auspices
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| n.资助，赞助 | |
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84
galaxy
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| n.星系；银河系；一群(杰出或著名的人物) | |
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85
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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86
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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87
penetrated
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| adj. 击穿的，鞭辟入里的 动词penetrate的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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88
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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89
trek
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| vi.作长途艰辛的旅行；n.长途艰苦的旅行 | |
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90
northward
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| adv.向北；n.北方的地区 | |
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91
desultory
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| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
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92
outskirts
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| n.郊外，郊区 | |
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93
deploy
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| v.（军）散开成战斗队形，布置，展开 | |
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94
brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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95
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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96
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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97
commemorate
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| vt.纪念，庆祝 | |
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98
captivity
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| n.囚禁；被俘；束缚 | |
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99
premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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100
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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101
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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102
extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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103
celebrities
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| n.（尤指娱乐界的）名人( celebrity的名词复数 )；名流；名声；名誉 | |
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104
prophesy
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| v.预言；预示 | |
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105
ambush
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| n.埋伏(地点)；伏兵；v.埋伏；伏击 | |
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106
jubilee
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| n.周年纪念；欢乐 | |
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