[Footnote 48: Nineteenth Century, May 1913, p. 972.]
[Footnote 49: When I was at Delhi in 1881, a Nikolsaini, i.e. a worshipper of John Nicholson, came to see me. He showed me a miniature of Nicholson with his head surrounded by an aureole.]
[Footnote 50: Memoirs of Henry Reeve, ii. 329.]
“THE NINETEENTH CENTURY AND AFTER”
IV
ARMY REFORM
"The Nineteenth Century and After,” February 1904
The autobiography[51] of my old and highly esteemed friend, Lord Wolseley, constitutes an honourable record of a well-spent life. Lord Wolseley may justifiably be proud of the services which he has rendered to his country. The British nation, and its principal executive officials in the past, may also be proud of having quickly discovered Lord Wolseley’s talents and merits, and of having advanced him to high position.
Obviously, certain conclusions of public interest may be drawn from the career of this very distinguished soldier. Sir George Arthur, in the December number of the Fortnightly Review, has stated what are the special lessons which, in his opinion, are to be derived from a consideration of that career.
Those lessons are, indeed, sufficiently numerous. I propose, however, to deal with only two of them. They are those which, apparently, Lord Wolseley himself wishes to be inculcated. Both involve questions of principle of no little importance.
In the first place, Lord Wolseley, if I understand rightly, considers that the army has suffered greatly from civilian interference. He appears to think that it should be more exclusively than heretofore under military control.
In the second place, he thinks that, in certain cases, the political and diplomatic negotiations, which generally follow on a war, should be conducted, not by a diplomatist or politician, but by the officer who has conducted the previous military operations.
As regards the first point, I am not now dealing with Lord Wolseley’s remarks in connection with our general unpreparedness for war, nor with those on the various defects, past or present, of our military organisation. In a great deal that he has said on these subjects, Lord Wolseley carries me heartily with him. I confine myself strictly to the issue as I have defined it above.
Possibly, I have mistaken the significance of Lord Wolseley’s words. If so, my error is shared by Sir George Arthur, who, in dealing with the War Office, dwells with emphasis on the occasions when “this great war expert was thwarted in respect of his best considered plans by the civilian element in that citadel of inefficiency,"[52] and speaks with approval of Lord Wolseley’s “severe strictures on blundering civilian interference with the army,” as also of the “censure reserved for the criminal negligence and miserable cowardice of successive Cabinets.”