I have said that Sir John French is the average Englishman in an accentuated degree.  How then does he regard war?  If the plain truth be told, we are not at heart a martial nation.  We have made war when we have been compelled to it by the threat of an Armada or the menace of a Napoleon.  But we have not cultivated war, at least since our wode days, as a pastime and a profession.  Nor is French that abnormal being, an Englishman governed by the blood lust.  Mrs. Despard has said that in reality he regards war as a hideous outrage.  He has no delusions as to the glory of war.  By no chance could he be ranked among the romanticist of the battlefield.  That, perhaps, is why he never is, never has been, ruthless or remorseless with the men whom he commands.

[Page Heading:  FRENCH AND THE SUFFOLKS]

If ever French had cause for anger, it was over the unlucky incident of the Suffolks, the one failure unwarrantably attributed to his ever victorious arms.  Yet he was the one officer who softened the bitterness of that reverse to the men.  He met the regiment in the Transvaal just eight months after the disaster.  His speech to the troops, as reported in at least one paper, is well worthy of preservation.  After referring to his pleasure in meeting them all again, he said:  “What you did at Colesberg is still fresh in my recollection ... but what I wish especially to recall is the sad event of the night of January 5th and 6th, and to express my sympathy with you on the loss of your gallant leader, Colonel Watson, who on that night showed splendid qualities as a noble and able officer.  Now, it has come to my knowledge that there has been spread about an idea that that event cast discredit of some sort upon this gallant regiment.  I want you all to banish any such thought from your minds as utterly untrue.  You took part ... in a night operation of extreme difficulty on a pitch dark night, and did all in your power to make it a success.  So do not let any false idea get into your minds.  Think rather that what took place brings honour to your regiment, and add this event to the long list of honours it has won in the past.  I want you all to bear in mind about such night operations, that they can never be a certain success, and because they sometimes fail it does not, therefore, bring discredit on those who attempted to carry them out.  You must remember that, if we always waited for an opportunity of certain success, we should do nothing at all, and that in war, fighting a brave enemy, it is absolutely impossible to be always sure of success:  all we can do is to try our very best to secure success—­and that you did on the occasion I am speaking of.  I thank you for that and all the good work you have done since, and remember above all that no slur whatever attaches to your regiment for the result of that occasion.”

With these finely sympathetic words might be placed French’s speech to his troops before the battle of Elandslaagte.  “Men,” he said, “you are going to oppose two thousand or three thousand Dutch.  We want to keep up our honour as we did in the olden time—­as soldiers and men, we want to take that position before sunset.”