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“The Contingent’s work has been so satisfactory that I trust that the noble and patriotic example set by New South Wales may, should occasion arise, be followed by other colonies.”

Lord Wolseley’s hopes have been fully realized.

CHAPTER V
A TIME OF RETRENCHMENT

The term of office of General Owen began with the passing of the “Russian scare.” The finances of the colony were for the time being undergoing a period of depression. Economy had to be enforced, and General Owen’s first instructions from the Government were to recommend ways and means of effecting reductions to meet the decrease in the military vote. Major Jervois’s period of service as adjutant-general came to an end about this time, and the Commandant was informed that it was not proposed to have him replaced by another officer from England.

It was not practicable to carry on the administration without some qualified officer to assist the Commandant with his duties. The inspections of the country units by the Commandant at least once a year were necessary under the provisions of the Defence Act. During the periods of his absence on inspection tours the presence of a qualified deputy at headquarters was necessary. To overcome this difficulty he asked me if I would undertake the duties of adjutant-general in addition to those as Officer Commanding the Permanent Artillery. My answer was that I would do my best. So it came about that in some three years from my first appointment I had reached the position of practically Second-in-Command. The fulfilment of my vision seemed to be coming more quickly than my wildest dreams ever expected.

To carry out retrenchment is ever an unpleasant and thankless job, and the first six months of our new régime was no exception to the rule. If you remember, the military forces of the colony comprised no less than four separate systems – the Regulars or Permanent Artillery, the partially paid force, the Volunteers, and the rifle clubs. Each of them was serving under different regulations. Each also had its own interests to safeguard, and each its staunch supporters. As the pruning knife began its work, so, violent opposition arose from those to whom it was being applied. Presently, as the knife kept on moving, dissatisfaction became general. The supporters of each system wished for the retrenchment of the others and the maintenance of their own. This, of course, was specially the case with the partially paid and the volunteer forces. The first claimed that, with their greater efficiency, if the numbers were somewhat increased the colony would have a more reliable force than if the Volunteers were retained. On the other hand, the Volunteers claimed that, with more instruction and drill, they could be depended on to fight all right if the necessity arose, and the saving made by abolishing the pay of the partially paid forces would accomplish all the economy desired by the Government.

Shortly afterwards the annual session of Parliament opened, with the usual “floods of talk.” Members who were really concerned for the forces were up and fighting in the interests of the special system of retrenchment they advocated; the Government were disinclined to stick to their guns and insist upon the question being one for the Government to deal with. The result was the common one in such cases – the appointment of a Royal Commission to inquire into and report upon the conduct of the forces for the past year, and make such recommendations for retrenchment as the Commission should deem advisable. With the very limited staff at my disposal the strain became very severe. In addition the Commandant’s temper did not improve with these happenings. He was a bachelor, and had not the opportunities a married man has of forgetting official troubles when enjoying the comfort and happiness of his home. However, we pulled through, though the Commission sat for some considerable time, during which no amount of returns seemed to satisfy its cravings for information. The report of the Commission was by-and-by duly printed and submitted to the Government, which promised to lay it before Parliament on a suitable date for the information of Members, and after that the Government would make the opportunity for the fullest discussion by the House.

With the close of the year 1888 would come the completion of General Owen’s three years’ agreement with the Government. This agreement set out that at the end of three years the term of service could be further extended by two years by mutual consent.

Month after month passed away. The Commission sent in its report. When it was discussed in the House no final conclusion was arrived at. A second Commission was appointed, and by the time its report was presented to the Government and the House met, General Owen’s term of three years was coming to a close. It is not to be wondered that the condition of the forces was unsatisfactory, their numbers reduced, recruiting stopped, equipment wearing out, schools of instruction held only at rare intervals. It was a disheartening time for all of us. Enthusiasm lacked, and the officers and men were sick at heart.

As it was expedient for General Owen to notify the Imperial Government as to his future movements, he thought it advisable to approach Mr. Playford, then Minister of Defence, on the subject of the two years’ extension. The Hon. Thomas Playford, popularly known as “Honest Tom,” had been brought up working on his father’s market garden, which was situated in the hills not far from Morialta, the home of the Bakers. He was a great, tall, powerful, heavy man, much above the average size. At their interview General Owen referred to the terms of his agreement and diplomatically sought to discover whether the Government were agreeable to the two years’ extension. As I have pointed out, the general’s term of office had not been too happy a one. The report of the Commissions and the discussions in Parliament had given rise to a considerable amount of friction and many adverse comments in the Press. Mr. Playford pointed out to him that as Parliament was to be prorogued before Christmas he thought it advisable not to settle the question for the time being. He suggested that the general should reopen it after the prorogation. The Government would then be in recess, and as the House would not be sitting, no disagreeable questions could be raised by members. By making no final decision before the prorogation he, as Minister, was in a position, in case questions were asked, to reply that nothing had been decided, and that the matter was under the consideration of the Government. The general told me about this interview, and, talking it over, we came to the conclusion – especially as Mr. Playford had suggested to the general not to press for an answer just then – that he wished to reopen negotiations after the prorogation of the House, and that it was his intention to agree to the extension.

Parliament was prorogued. The general then sent an official letter to Mr. Playford, reopening the matter, concluding with a statement to the effect that if the Government were agreeable he, on his part, was prepared to carry on. He received no acknowledgment of his letter, but he did read next morning in the papers a statement, evidently inspired, to the effect that “the Commandant, General Owen, had notified the Ministerial head of the Department that he was willing to continue his duties for two years if the Government so desired. The Government, however, did not see their way to meet the general’s wishes.” I shall never forget that morning. The general came to the office in his uniform. As a rule he wore plain clothes unless he was on some special duty. I was not surprised at the state of mind he was in. The paragraph, on the face of it, and in the absence of any acknowledgment of the general’s letter, and considering the tenor of their interview early in December, appeared to be in the nature of a direct insult, almost premeditated. I sent off an orderly to the Government offices with a letter from the general requesting an interview with Mr. Playford as soon as possible.

The answer came back that the Minister was ready to see General Owen at once. Off went the general. I returned to my room, sat down, lit a pipe and began to think. It was not long before I heard him return. I didn’t wait to be sent for. I walked straight into his room. He was in such a temper that he could hardly speak. I felt that his interview must have been a very painful one. So it had. It had not been long. He told me the only few words that had taken place. The general appeared to have made some remark to the effect that it seemed to him that if the paragraph in the newspapers had been supplied by the Minister, or with his approval, such action was a direct insult, not only to himself personally, but also to the uniform he had the honour to wear.

The answer the general received from Mr. Playford fairly astonished me. It was something to the effect that “if the general had asked to see him to insult him, the sooner he left the room the better, or he would kick him out.” Nothing would suit the general for the moment but to send for the representatives of the Press and give them an account of the interview. I succeeded in altering his mind, and suggested that he should see the Chief Justice and the Governor first, and obtain their advice as to what action he should take.

This he did, and, as far as I remember, the unfortunate incident was never made public.

The general made his plans for returning to England at once. General Owen subsequently filled many important appointments. He was selected some years afterwards as Commandant of the Colony of Queensland. He was determined to get back on the South Australians and show them that there were other people in the world who appreciated his services, even if Mr. Playford and Co. had not done so. He afterwards commanded the artillery at Malta, and for a time was Acting-Governor of the island. Later on he held the position of president of the Ordnance Committee, the most scientific committee that I know of in our service.

Years later on it fell to me to have a tussle with Honest Tom when he was Minister for Defence in the Federal Government. About this more anon.

Immediately the general informed me of his decision to leave for England, the first thought that naturally came to my mind was, “Who is going to succeed him as Commandant?” I took steps to find out whether the Government had communicated by cable to England for a successor. They had not done so. That they had not taken any action in the matter seemed to me to point to the fact that the unfortunate words uttered in the interview which had ended so unhappily had not been premeditated by the Government; otherwise, one would think, they would have taken some steps to secure a successor. I bethought myself of our old Commandant, General Downes, then secretary to Sir Frederick Sargood in Victoria. I knew personally, from conversations that I had had with him during my visits to Melbourne, that the duties he was performing were not congenial to him. I at once wrote to him confidentially, told him of the catastrophe that had overtaken us, and asked him straight whether he was willing to take up the command in South Australia again if it was offered to him. He answered, “Yes, certainly, if it is offered.” I couldn’t possibly approach Playford in the matter. Playford, according to the general’s account, had been much too rude to my Commandant.

But there are always ways – quite straight, not crooked – of approaching those in power. Sufficient to say that the Government decided to offer the appointment to General Downes. During my conversations with those who had at the time the reins of Government in their hands it was suggested to me that I should be a candidate for the position. What an alluring prospect! Was my vision to come true so quickly? Though my work under General Owen had given him full satisfaction, and I had a good hold of all the senior commanding officers, I felt that it was too early in the day for me to accept so heavy a responsibility. I could afford to wait. Hence my suggestion to the Government to reappoint General Downes.

An interval of some two months took place from the time of General Owen’s departure and the arrival of General Downes from Melbourne. During this period I was appointed Acting Commandant, and I took my seat in that very chair in which General Downes had sat on the day he told me of my first appointment. The vision had been temporarily fulfilled. It was to be confirmed later on.

The first task I set to myself as Acting Commandant was to make a very close examination into the state of our finances. The official financial year closed on June 30.

The annual continuous camps of training were held during the Easter holidays. I determined to strain every effort to hold a record camp, at which every member of the force should be present. As soon as I was satisfied that I could carry out my wishes I wrote to General Downes, asking him to arrive in Adelaide, if suitable, the day after the troops had assembled in camp for their annual training, when I would hand over the command to him. All went well. I selected a site at a place called Keswick, near the Black Forest, just west of Adelaide. It was the locality that had been fixed upon in the local defence scheme for the assembly of the troops in case of invasion. We had a full muster. The general arrived and took command. He was welcomed by the officers and men alike. My responsibilities for the time being were over.

The success of General Downes’s previous term of command was a big factor in assisting him to obtain support from the Government and the public at large, and a somewhat generous increase in the military vote was made available. His first request to the Government was for the assistance of an Imperial officer as adjutant-general to relieve me from the onerous double duties I had fulfilled for three years during Owen’s term of office. The Government concurred at once. A cable was sent home. Within a few days the general was notified that Major Lovett, Somersetshire Light Infantry, had been appointed and was sailing at once from London for Adelaide. On his arrival I handed over to him my duties as adjutant-general.

General Downes was fully aware of the six years’ work that had fallen to my lot since the fateful January 2, 1882, the day on which he had notified me of my first appointment. He had, of course, watched from Victoria with keen interest our difficult and troublous times for the three years past.

With his usual forethought and kindness he suggested I should apply for six months’ leave. I thanked him heartily and sent in my application.

It was approved.

Oh, what joy!

CHAPTER VI
MY VISION FULFILLED

My voyage homewards on the Valetta was indeed a contrast to the three months spent on the good old clipper, the Waipa, on my way to New Zealand.

I had arrived in New Zealand in November, 1879, as you know, with practically nothing before me but a determined and firm resolve to make good somehow, without any assistance except that which I could give myself. Within ten years I was returning home, with a record of service of which I could be proud.

Within those ten years I had held the position of Acting Commandant of an important colony, with the temporary rank of full colonel, and was going home with the rank of major. If I had remained in the good old regiment I would have been fortunate if I had got my captaincy within that period. But what about the knowledge and experience I had gained, not only as a gunner, but as a staff officer, and, yet more, as an officer charged with grave responsibilities in the administration and command of troops, organized and maintained on lines differing totally from the hard and fast methods governing our Regular Army, but eminently suitable to the economic conditions of the healthy young colonies whose citizens were true to the core at heart in their patriotism and were ready to make many sacrifices to maintain the might of the Motherland?

For seven years my home had been in Adelaide. My friends had always cheered me on in my work. If the exuberance of youth, good health and the happiest of surroundings – all friends, and no foes that I knew of – had not made my life happy, the fault would have been my own. I am moralizing – the one thing I have been trying to avoid all through my tale. What really is in my mind is to point out to any youngster who reads this, and whose future suddenly becomes blurred and may appear hopeless, that if he relies on his own self, gives his truest instincts fair play, and determines to beat his bad luck and give to himself his best, he will more than likely succeed, as it was my good fortune to do.

Now let us get back on board the ss. Valetta, on the moonlight night when she weighed anchor off Largs Bay and I bade “adios” to the many friends who had accompanied me on board, and who, re-embarking on the Customs launch, followed the vessel down the gulf till the evening shades hid them from our sight. The five weeks spent on the Valetta on the homeward trip were indeed enjoyable. First, the weather was fine all the way. I do not think we had one really rough day. The ship was full; not an empty berth. A “land boom” was on at the time; there was plenty of money about, and most of the passengers were well-to-do men taking their families home to have a good time. Land booms I have heard described as speculations in land, owing to which men with, say, a few hundred pounds quickly become possessed of as many thousands (on paper, not in land). Presently the boom cracks, the thousands disappear. I am sorry to say that this actually happened later on to several of our passengers.

We arrived at Brindisi, and thence went overland to Calais; then Dover and good old London. What a pleasure it was to get back to the old club, stay at the old hotel, sit in the little balcony at Morley’s, gaze at Nelson’s monument, and walk round the old haunts! After a few days’ stay in London I went home to Wardhouse.

I had undertaken only one official matter to inquire into during my absence on leave. It was to report upon the method then in vogue for the supply of warlike material to the colonies. This method was as follows. An officer, at that time General Harding-Stewart, retired, was acting as military adviser and inspector of warlike stores to the several colonies. When any of the colonies ordered rifles, guns or other requirements, he procured them in London, working on commission. No doubt he meant well, but at the time I left Adelaide there were hardly two heavy guns alike in any of the colonies. A climax had been reached when New South Wales ordered two 10-inch muzzle-loaders similar to the two which South Australia had mounted at Fort Glanville. The New South Wales guns were supplied by the same firm. They arrived in Sydney and were mounted at Middle Head Fort. I visited Sydney at the time they were being mounted, and found that their calibre differed from the South Australian guns by a fraction of an inch, so that the ammunition was not interchangeable. As a matter of fact, there were but few guns of Imperial pattern in the whole of Australia; we were armed mostly with experimental guns of private firms.

As a result of my inquiries I came to the conclusion that it would be more satisfactory if a senior officer on the active list of the Royal Regiment of Artillery was appointed at a fixed salary for a term of years, who would be instructed, at any rate in the case of heavy ordnance, field guns and rifles, to supply none except of a pattern passed into the Imperial Service itself. This recommendation was submitted by me to my Premier at Adelaide on my return, passed on by him to the other Premiers concerned, and finally given effect to, and Lieut. Colonel King-Harman, R.A., was appointed. Little did I think that, within ten years, I myself was to receive the appointment.

I had also intended to pay a visit to the Expeditionary Force at that time operating up the Nile. But the relief or fall of Khartoum was imminent, and the time at my disposal was not sufficient. Khartoum fell and General Gordon was murdered. Who was to blame? I wonder. Have you ever been to see and studied the statue raised to his memory in Trafalgar Square, a replica of which stands in Spring Gardens, Melbourne? If not, do so some day, and look well into his face. Its expression is one of sad thought. So might he have looked as he stood in Khartoum facing death.

I must pass over the glorious days I spent at home; they were the last I spent with my father and mother.

Taking my passage by the Massilia, a sister ship to the Valetta, I set out once more for the fair lands of the South, happy and contented, mentally and physically refreshed, and determined to rise still higher in my profession. On my arrival at Adelaide I received a right royal welcome. I found General Downes going strong. There had been no more talk of Royal Commissions. Major Lovett had settled down to his work and was a general favourite; he himself liked Adelaide immensely. More funds had been made available; my own Permanent Artillery had behaved well during my absence and were doing well. For the next two years nothing occurred out of the usual, either in South Australia or the other colonies, from a military point of view. The end of 1891 was approaching; the general decided to retire. Major Lovett had completed his term as adjutant-general and was returning home. I was asked to step into the breach once more and take up his duties as well as my own. I, of course, agreed, and I was promoted to lieutenant-colonel early in 1892.

The Premier of South Australia was then Charles Cameron Kingston, or, to give him his full title, which he dearly loved, Sergeant Charles Cameron Kingston, B Company, 1st Regiment, Adelaide Rifles. Kingston possessed a charming personality. He was a most able lawyer, could see through most things and most people, could analyse a difficult subject, select what was good, discard what was bad, quicker than most men. As a politician he was highly successful. Rough old Seddon of New Zealand might be reckoned as his closest rival. As a lawyer he was sound as a bell, a most eminent draftsman, and a mighty quick worker when he liked, though he was not a model of industry. As a sergeant he was tip-top. B Company was the best company in the regiment; he seldom missed a parade. As a “sport” he was loved by old and young. They spoke of him as “Good old Charlie.”

General Downes, when leaving, made up his mind to recommend to the Government to secure the services of another Imperial officer on the active list to succeed him who should take over the command before the actual date of his own retirement. Personally I must say I was rather surprised at the general’s action, for by this time I had full confidence that I could carry out the duties myself. I had not by any means wasted all my time during my leave two years before; I had got much information. Then I had been instrumental in obtaining for him his second term of command, notwithstanding that he had retired from the active list himself when he had taken up the duties of secretary to Sir Frederick Sargood. So I had hoped that, while he might express his opinion to the Government, he would not insist on it too much. I must admit that he was quite frank with me as to the attitude he was taking up. His argument was to this effect. It had been found necessary before to supersede local officers. “Surely,” he said, “the same considerations that held good then hold good now. I do not say that you are not qualified to fill the position, but if you are appointed it will form a precedent, and, on the expiry of the terms of the engagements of the Imperial officers in the other colonies the claims of local officers will again naturally be put forward. Then good-bye to the system of obtaining the services of thoroughly experienced officers who have no local interests and no axes to grind.” Meantime, the senior commanding officers of several branches of our forces were, without my knowledge, beginning to interest themselves to have me appointed as successor to the general.

To return to Sergeant Charles Cameron Kingston, let me tell of an incident which may give you some insight into the personal character of a remarkable man. It is one which, except for an accident, might have had fatal results. Kingston was leading the Government at the time; Sir Richard Baker of Morialta was President of the Upper House. Kingston had introduced a Bill in the House of Representatives dealing with arbitration in industrial disputes. Sir Richard Baker was the father of a Bill introduced into the Senate on the same subject. While the aims of the two were identical, the methods by which those results were to be obtained were by no means analogous. Each Bill had its supporters in each House. As the debates proceeded considerable bitterness arose, ending in correspondence in the daily Press. Finally, Kingston and Baker commenced to abuse each other in print. Kingston’s temper gave out. He wrote a letter to Sir Richard which he had delivered at the latter’s office in Victoria Square, together with a case containing a pistol and some cartridges. He could no longer stand what he considered the insults Sir Richard had thought fit to level at him. The letter stated that he would be on the pavement on the opposite side of the street to the entrance to Sir Richard’s office at five minutes to twelve o’clock, noon, next day, Saturday, and asked Sir Richard to take up a position on the pavement outside his offices at that hour, bringing his pistol with him. As soon as the post office clock, which was close to the office, began to strike twelve, each would step into the roadway and shoot at his leisure. A quaint duel, was it not?

The accident which saved the situation was the fact that Sir Richard was not in the habit of attending his office on Saturday morning. His son, or someone in the office, opened Kingston’s letter, and the police were informed. Shortly before noon Kingston was seen walking across from the Government Offices towards Baker’s offices. Two constables in plain clothes followed him and watched him as he coolly took up his stand on the pavement. The hands of the post office clock pointed at three minutes to twelve. The two constables walked up to Mr. Kingston. They politely asked him what his business was. “I am just waiting for Baker to come out of his office,” he answered; “then you will see some sport. I advise you to move a bit to one side. I don’t think he is much of a shot. He might get one of you two.” The constables, who were well known to Kingston, informed him that Sir Richard had not been to his office that morning, so that there would be no sport, but they had instructions from the Commissioner of Police to arrest him for attempting to commit a breach of the peace, and to take him at once before a magistrate. Within half an hour he appeared before a police magistrate, had his pistol taken from him, and was bound over to keep the peace for six months.

In the meantime the news had spread throughout Adelaide like wildfire, and had reached Sir Richard at the Adelaide Club. Kingston’s letter and the revolver which accompanied it had been sent down to the club from Sir Richard’s office after twelve o’clock. No sooner had Sir Richard been told of what had happened than he put the revolver Kingston had sent him into his pocket, borrowed another at the club, and started off to look for his challenger, who, he knew, usually lunched at Parliament House and would at this time probably be walking down King William Street from the Government Offices in Victoria Square. He was not mistaken, for after proceeding a short way up King William Street he came face to face with Kingston. “I am sorry,” he said, “I was not at my office this morning, but here I am now. Stand off, and the first one who counts five aloud can shoot away.”

“I am sorry,” said Kingston, “but I can’t oblige you; the police have taken away my revolver.”

“Never mind,” said Baker, “here is the one you sent me,” handing it over to him. “I don’t believe it will go off. I have one of my own.”

It was now time to interfere. Three of us who had followed Sir Richard out from the club stepped in and good counsels prevailed. As Kingston had been bound over to keep the peace for six months no duel could take place. As a matter of fact, it was not long before the two redoubtable belligerents shook hands and had a friendly laugh over the incident.

Now comes the sequel. By the Regulations under the Military Act, any member of the forces convicted of an offence in a civil court was liable to dismissal. On the Monday morning a full report of the case appeared in the newspapers. Before this took place General Downes had retired and I was once more acting Commandant. The officer who was acting Adjutant-General brought the newspaper report under my notice officially. There was no other course but to order Sergeant Kingston to be put under arrest and called upon to make a statement, if he so wished, before he was dismissed from the forces, in accordance with the Regulations. This order I gave. The Attorney-General at the time, Mr. Homburgh, was very much concerned at my order. A doubt then entered my mind as to whether being bound over to keep the peace amounted to a conviction under the provisions of the Defence Act Regulations. I immediately referred the question to the Crown Solicitor, who said it was a difficult question I had raised, but ruled finally that being bound over to keep the peace was not tantamount to a conviction within the meaning of the Regulations. Whether this was sound law or not I cannot say, but it gave me the opportunity to let Sergeant Kingston off easily. I at once sent orders to his commanding officer to warn the sergeant to appear before me at the Staff Office the next morning, so that I could deal with the case.