CHAPTER IV LORD KITCHENER'S TASK

Lord Roberts had been seeking for seven years to persuade the nation to realise that it was threatened by a great danger; that it was unprepared to encounter the danger; that by reason of this unpreparedness, the danger was brought much nearer. Until October 1912, however, he had failed signally in capturing the public ear. The people would not give him their attention either from favour or indignation. The cause of which he was the advocate appeared to have been caught in an academic backwater.

But from that time forward, Lord Roberts had no reason to complain of popular neglect. Overcoming his natural disinclination to platform oratory and political agitation, sacrificing his leisure, putting a dangerous strain upon his physical strength, he continued his propaganda at a series of great meetings in the industrial centres. Everywhere he was listened to with respect, and apparently with a great measure of agreement. Only on one occasion was he treated with discourtesy, and that was by a civic dignitary and not by the audience. But he had now become an important figure in the political conflict, and he had to take the consequences, in a stream of abuse and misrepresentation from the party which {351} disapproved of his principles; while he received but little comfort from the other party, which lived in constant terror lest it might be thought to approve of them. Lord Roberts's advocacy of national service continued up to the autumn of 1913, when the gravity of the situation in Ireland made it impossible to focus public interest on any other subject.

TRIUMPH OF VOLUNTARY SYSTEM

After the present war had run its course for a month or two, the minds of many people reverted to what Lord Roberts had been urging upon his fellow-countrymen for nine years past. His warnings had come true; that at any rate was beyond doubt. The intentions which he had attributed to Germany were clearly demonstrated, and likewise the vastness and efficiency of her military organisation. The inadequacy of British preparations was made plain. They were inadequate in the sense that they had failed to deter the aggressor from a breach of the peace, and they had been equally inadequate for withstanding his onset. The deficiencies of the Territorial Army in numbers, discipline, training, and equipment had made it impossible to entrust it with the responsibility of Home Defence immediately upon the outbreak of war. As a consequence of this, the whole of the Regular Army could not be released for foreign service, although Sir John French's need of reinforcements was desperate. Notwithstanding, however, that Lord Roberts's warnings had come true, many people professed to discover in what had happened a full justification—some even went so far as to call it a 'triumph'—for the voluntary system.

Even after the first battle of Ypres, those who held such views had no difficulty in finding evidences {352} of their truth on all hands. They found them in the conduct of our army in France, and in the courage and devotion with which it had upheld the honour of England against overwhelming odds. They found it in the response to Lord Kitchener's call for volunteers, and in the eagerness and spirit of the New Army. They found it in our command of the sea, in the spirit of the nation, and in what they read in their newspapers about the approval and admiration of the world.

In the short dark days of December and January we were cheered by many bold bills and headlines announcing what purported to be victories; and we were comforted through a sad Christmastide by panegyrics on British instinct, pluck, good-temper, energy, and genius for muddling through. Philosophic commentators pointed out that, just as Germany was becoming tired out and short of ammunition, just as she was bringing up troops of worse and worse quality, we should be at our very best, wallowing in our resources of men and material of war. Six months, a year, eighteen months hence—for the estimates varied—Britain would be invincible. Economic commentators on the other hand impressed upon us how much better it was to pay through the nose now, than to have been bleeding ourselves white as the Germans, the French, and the Russians were supposed (though without much justification) to have been doing for a century.

To clinch the triumph of the voluntary system—when the Hour came the Man came with it.

LORD KITCHENER'S APPOINTMENT

Many of these things were truly alleged. Lord Kitchener at any rate was no mirage. The gallantry of our Army was no illusion; indeed, its heroism {353} was actually underrated, for the reason that the extent of its peril had never been fully grasped. Although British commerce had suffered severely from the efforts of a few bold raiders, the achievements of our Navy were such that they could quite fairly be described, as having secured command of the sea.[1] The German fleet was held pretty closely within its harbours. We had been able to move our troops and munitions of war wherever we pleased, and so far, without the loss of a ship, or even of a man. Submarine piracy—a policy of desperation—had not then begun. The quality of the New Army, the rapidity with which its recruits were being turned into soldiers, not only impressed the public, but took by complete surprise the severest of military critics.

This is not the place for discussing how Lord Kitchener came to be appointed Secretary of State for War, or to attempt an estimate of his character and career.[2] He was no politician, but a soldier {354} and an administrator. He was in his sixty-fifth year, and since he had left the Royal Military Academy in 1871, by far the greater part of his work had been done abroad—in the Levant, Egypt, South Africa, and India.[3] In no case had he ever failed at anything he had undertaken. The greater part of his work had been completely successful; much of it had been brilliantly successful. He believed in himself; the country believed in him; foreign nations believed in him. No appointment could have produced a better effect upon the hearts of the British people and upon those of their Allies. The nation felt—if we may use so homely an image in this connection—that Lord Kitchener was holding its hand confidently and reassuringly in one of his, while with the other he had the whole race of politicians firmly by the scruff, and would see to it that there was no nonsense or trouble in that quarter.

It is no exaggeration to say that from that time to this,[4] Lord Kitchener's presence in the Cabinet {355} has counted for more with the country, than that of any other minister, or indeed than all other ministers put together. That in itself proves his possession of very remarkable qualities; for nine such months of public anxiety and private sorrow, as England has lately known, will disturb any reputation which is not firmly founded upon merit. During this time we have seen other reputations come and go; popularities made, and unmade, and remade. We have seen great figures all but vanish into the mist of neglect. But confidence in Lord Kitchener has remained constant through it all. Things may have gone wrong; the Government may have made mistakes; even the War Office itself may have made mistakes; yet the faith of the British people in the man of their choice has never been shaken for an instant.

HIS GRASP OF ESSENTIALS

The highest of all Lord Kitchener's merits is, that being suddenly pitchforked into office by an emergency, he nevertheless grasped at once the two or three main features of the situation, and turned the whole force of his character to dealing with them, letting the smaller matters meanwhile fall into line as best they might. He grasped the dominating factor—that it was essential to subordinate every military and political consideration to supporting France, whose fight for her own existence was equally a fight for the existence of the British Empire. He grasped the urgent need for the enrolment of many hundreds of thousands of men fit for making into soldiers, if we were to win this fight and not lose it. He grasped the need for turning these recruits into soldiers at a pace which hardly a single military expert believed to be possible. He may, or may {356} not, have fully grasped at the beginning, the difficulties—mainly owing to dearth of officers—with which he was faced: but when he did grasp them, by some means or another, he succeeded in overcoming them.

It is dangerous to speak of current events in confident superlatives; but one is tempted to do so with regard to the training of the New Army. Even the most friendly among expert critics believed that what Lord Kitchener had undertaken was a thing quite impossible to do in the prescribed time. Yet he has done it. And not only the friendly, but also the severest critics, have admitted that the New Army is already fit to face any continental army, and that, moreover, to all appearance, it is one of the finest armies in history. The sternest proof is yet to come; but it is clear that something not far short of a miracle has been accomplished.

If we search for an explanation of the miracle, we find it quite as much in Lord Kitchener's character as in his methods. Fortunately what was so painfully lacking in the political sphere was present in the military—Leadership.

HIS DISADVANTAGES

Despite the support which Lord Kitchener derived from the public confidence he laboured under several very serious disadvantages. A man cannot spend almost the whole of his working life out of England, and then return to it at the age of sixty-four, understanding all the conditions as clearly as if he had never left it. Lord Kitchener was ignorant not only of English political conditions, but also of English industrial conditions, which in a struggle like the present are certainly quite as important as the other. He may well have consoled himself, however, with the reflection that, although he himself was {357} lacking in knowledge, his colleagues were experts in both of these spheres.

It was inevitable that Lord Kitchener must submit to the guidance of Ministers in the political sphere, providing they agreed with his main objects—the unflinching support of France, and the creation of the New Army.

In the industrial sphere, on the other hand, it was the business of Ministers, not merely to keep themselves in touch with Lord Kitchener's present and future needs, and to offer their advice and help for satisfying them, but also to insist upon his listening to reason, if in his urgent need and unfamiliarity with the business world, he was seen to be running upon danger in any direction.

It is impossible to resist the impression that, while his colleagues held Lord Kitchener very close by the head as to politics, and explained to him very clearly what they conceived the people would stand and would not stand, they did not show anything like the same vigilance or determination in keeping him well advised as to the means of procuring the material of war.


[1] Partly by good fortune, but mainly owing to the admirable promptitude and skill with which our naval resources were handled, the bulk of the German fleet was imprisoned from the outset. We did not experience anything like the full effect of our unpreparedness. If Mr. Churchill had not taken his decision on the day following the delivery of the Austrian ultimatum to Servia (July 24) by postponing the demobilisation of the Fleet—to the great scandal of his own party, when the facts first became known—there would have been a very different tale to tell as regards the fate of the British merchant service on the high seas.

[2] Critics of the present Government, such as the editor of the National Review, have maintained that Lord Kitchener was forced upon an unwilling Cabinet by the pressure of public opinion; that although he was in England throughout the crisis he was allowed to make all his preparations for returning to Egypt, and was only fetched back as he was on the point of stepping aboard the packet; that the well-known form of Lord Haldane had been seen at the War Office, and that if the Lord Chancellor had, as was intended, relinquished his legal position in order to become Secretary of State for War, we should probably not have sent abroad our Expeditionary Force. It is undeniable that during Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday (August 2, 3, and 4) London was buzzing with a strange rumour (which was fathered altogether falsely upon the French Ambassador) that France did not ask for or require our assistance on land; but only at sea. If this were so the absurdity of sending our Expeditionary Force would have been obvious. It is noteworthy that a usually well-inspired section of the Ministerial Press—even after they had reluctantly accepted war as inevitable—were still maintaining stoutly, even so late as Tuesday and Wednesday (4th and 5th), that the Expeditionary Force should not be allowed to cross the channel. Lord Kitchener was appointed on the Thursday, and the Expeditionary Force began to go abroad the following week. The chapter of English political history which begins with the presentation of the Austrian ultimatum to Servia on the 23rd of July, and ends with the appointment of Lord Kitchener on the 6th of August, will no doubt prove to be one of the most interesting in our annals. Whether it will prove to be one of the most glorious or one of the most humiliating exhibitions of British statesmanship we cannot say until we possess fuller knowledge than we do at present of the attitude of ministers at the Cabinets of Friday, Saturday, and Sunday (July 31, August 1 and 2).

[3] Palestine, 1874-1878; Cyprus, 1878-1882; Egypt, 1882-1899; South Africa, 1899-1902; India, 1902-1909; Egypt, 1911-1914. Only during the years 1871-1874 and 1909-1911 does Lord Kitchener appear to have been freed from foreign service, and during a part of the latter interval he was travelling in China and Japan.

[4] End of May 1915.