SIR JOHN FRENCH

AN AUTHENTIC BIOGRAPHY

BY

CECIL CHISHOLM, M.A.

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY
SIR EVELYN WOOD, V.C.

AND A PORTRAIT BY J.R.L. FRENCH

HERBERT JENKINS LIMITED
ARUNDEL PLACE HAYMARKET
LONDON S.W. MCMXV

WYMAN & SONS LTD., PRINTERS, READING AND LONDON.

INTRODUCTION

BY FIELD-MARSHAL SIR EVELYN WOOD, V.C.

I regard John Denton French as the man who for the last twelve years has been the driving force of tactical instruction in the British Army. He made use of all the best ideas of the Generals who preceded him in the Aldershot Command, and he was, I think, instrumental in causing the appointment of Horace Smith-Dorrien and Douglas Haig to succeed in turn to that nursery of soldiers.

How sound his judgment has proved to be may be discovered from the dispatches—carefully worded—in which he describes how Smith-Dorrien conducted the most successful retreat since that of Sir John Moore to Corunna, 1808-9, and how Douglas Haig carried his Army across the Aisne river in the face of the enemy's fire opposition.

From 1884-5, when as a Squadron Officer he showed marked determination in the abortive expedition for the relief of Gordon, until 1899-1902 in South Africa, he has been the foremost man to inculcate the "Cavalry Spirit," and unlike many advocates of that spirit, he has never become a slave to the idea. He has been at pains to teach the Cavalry soldier that when he can no longer fight to the best advantage in the saddle, he is to get off his horse and fight on foot. This is a marked feature of his military genius.

He is intensely practical; and he is possessed of great moral and physical courage which never fail to assert themselves in the face of the most difficult situations. They were conspicuously shown during the Boer War when, with an extraordinary determination, he formed up his men on their tired and exhausted horses and advanced in extended order, galloping through the Boers in position, and reaching Kimberley as the result of his heroic determination.

When, in the earlier part of this War, things were not going well, I was asked to give my opinion of our chances of success. I said that I did not think that our prospects were then bright, but although many men had gone "Hands up" before John French, he would never put up his own, whatever happened.

Evelyn Wood, F.-M.

November 10,
1914.

PREFACE

In writing this biography of Field-Marshal Sir John French I have been deeply indebted to many of his personal friends for helping me with first-hand impressions of our General in the Field. A number of military writers have been almost equally helpful. Among those to whom I owe sincere thanks for personal assistance are Lady French, Mr. J.R.L. French, Mrs. Despard, Field-Marshal Earl Roberts, Field-Marshal Sir Evelyn Wood, General Bewicke Copley, Colonel E.K. Aylener, Colonel Kendal Coghill, Colonel Charles E. Warde, M.P., the Editor of the Army and Navy Gazette, Mr. Percy J. King, the Editor of the Regiment, Mr. Frederick W. Carter, Mr. Leonard Crocombe and Mr. S.R. Littlewood, who put valuable material at my disposal.

I shall be very grateful for any further biographical particulars, stories, or corrections for incorporation in subsequent editions: all communications should be addressed to me, care of my publishers.

C.C.

CONTENTS

SIR JOHN FRENCH

CHAPTER IToC

Early Days

"If I don't end my days as a Field-Marshal it will not be for want of trying, and—well, I'm jolly well going to do it." In these words, uttered many years ago to a group of brother officers in the mess room of the 19th Hussars, Sir John French quite unconsciously epitomised his own character in a way no biographer can hope to equal. The conversation had turned upon luck, a word that curiously enough was later to be so intimately associated with French's name. One man had stoutly proclaimed that all promotion was a matter of luck, and French had claimed that only work and ability really counted in the end. Yet "French's luck" has become almost a service proverb—for those who have not closely studied his career. Luck is frequently a word used to explain our own failure and another man's success.

Not that success and John French could ever have been strangers. There are some happy natures whose destiny is never in doubt, Providence having apparently planned it half a century ahead. Sir John French is a striking instance of this. Destiny never had any doubt about the man. He was born to be a fighter. On his father's side he comes of the famous old Galway family of which Lord de Freyne, of French Park, Co. Roscommon, is now the head. By tradition the Frenches are a naval family, although there have been famous soldiers as well as famous sailors amongst its members. There was, for instance, the John French who fought in the army of King William, leading a troop of the Enniskillen Dragoons at Aughrim in 1689.

Sir John French is himself the son of a sailor, Commander J.T.W. French, who on retiring from the Navy settled down on the beautiful little Kentish estate of Ripplevale, near Walmer. Here John Denton Pinkstone French was born on September 28, 1852, in the same year as his future colleague, General Joffre. His mother, a Miss Eccles, was the daughter of a Scotch family resident near Glasgow.

Of the boy's home life at Ripplevale very little is known. He was the sixth child and the only son of the family. Both his parents dying while he was quite young, he was brought up under the care of his sisters. But there is no reason to suppose that he was therefore spoilt; for one of these ladies shared in a remarkable degree the qualities of energy and determination which were to distinguish her brother. Young French's earliest education was largely guided by this gifted sister, who is now so well known in another field of warfare as Mrs. Despard.

It is extremely difficult to say what manner of boy the future Field-Marshal was. Only one fact emerges clearly. He was high-spirited and full of mischief. Everything that he did was done with the greatest enthusiasm, and already there were signs that he possessed an unusually strong will.

Inevitably games quickly took possession of his imagination. Very soon the war game had first place in his affections. He was perpetually playing with soldiers—a fascinating hobby which intrigued the curious mind of the rather silent child. French, in fact, was a very normal and healthy boy, with just a touch of thoughtfulness to mark him off from his fellows.

He was not, however, to enjoy the freedom of home life for very long. At an early age he was sent to a preparatory school at Harrow, which he left for Eastman's Naval College at Portsmouth. After the necessary "cramming" he passed the entrance examination to the Navy at the age of thirteen. In the following year (1866) he joined the Britannia as a cadet. Four years of strenuous naval work followed. But like another Field-Marshal-to-be, Sir Evelyn Wood, the boy was not apparently enamoured of the sea. As a result he decided to leave that branch of the service.

That action is typical of the man. He is ruthless with himself as well as with others. If the Navy were not to give scope for his ambition, then he must quit the Navy. Already, no doubt, his life-long hero, Napoleon, was kindling the young man's imagination. But the English Navy of those days gave little encouragement to the Napoleonic point of view. It was bound up with the sternest discipline and much red tape. If rumour speaks true young French was irritated by the almost despotic powers then possessed by certain naval officers. So he boldly decided at the age of eighteen to end one career and commence another.

To enter the sister service he had to stoop to what is dubbed the "back-door," in other words a commission in the militia. It seems rather remarkable that one of our most brilliant officers should have had this difficulty to face. Incidentally it is a curious sidelight on the system of competitive examinations. But there are several facts to remember. Sir John French's genius developed slowly. One does not figure him as ready, like Kitchener, at twenty-one, with a complete map of his career. In these days he was probably more interested in hunting than in soldiering. The man who is now proverbial for his devotion to the study of tactics was then very little of a book-worm. Indeed he seems to have shown no special intellectual or practical abilities until much later in life.

In 1874 he was gazetted to the 8th Hussars, being transferred three weeks later to the 19th. At that time the 19th Hussars was scarcely a crack regiment. With two other regiments raised after the Indian mutiny it was nicknamed the "Dumpies," owing to the standard of height being lowered, and it had yet to earn the reputation which Barrow and French secured it. About John French the subaltern, as about John French the midshipman, history is silent. No fabulous legends have accumulated about him. Presumably the short, firmly-built young officer was regarded as normal and entirely de rigeur in his sporting propensities.

The subaltern of the 'eighties took himself much less seriously than his successor of today. The eternal drill and the occasional manœuvres were conducted on well-worn and almost automatic principles. As a result, the younger officers found hunting and polo decidedly better sport. Few or none of them were military enthusiasts; and study did not enter largely into their programme. It entered into French's—but only in stray hours, often snatched by early rising, before the day's work—or sport—began.

Despite constant rumours to the contrary, there can be no question that French was a most spirited young officer and a thorough sportsman. He at once earned for himself the sobriquet of "Capt. X Trees," as a result of his being a "retired naval man." To this day among the very few remaining brother officers of his youth, he is still greeted as "Trees."

As might be expected, French showed no desire to pose as "the glass of fashion or the mould of form." He never attempted to cultivate the graces of the beau sabreur. His short square figure did not look well on horseback and probably never will. But he was admitted to be a capable horseman and to have "good hands." Although not keen on polo he was very fond of steeplechasing. Of his love for that sport there is ample proof in the fact that he trained and rode his own steeplechasers.

One of his best horses was a mare called "Mrs. Gamp," which he lent on one occasion to a brother subaltern—now Colonel Charles E. Warde, M.P. for Mid-Kent. Riding with his own spurs on French's mare, Colonel Warde was one of three out of a field of four hundred to live through a Warde Union run which was responsible for the death of six hunters before the day was over.

Young French also became a very good whip. Along with Colonel H.M.A. Warde—now the Chief Constable of Kent—he had a thrilling adventure in coach driving. When the regiment first started a coach it was necessary to bring it from Dublin to the Curragh. The two subalterns, neither of whom had ever driven four horses before, commandeered four chargers belonging to brother officers. One of the animals was a notorious kicker. But they took them up to Dublin and drove the coach twenty-eight miles down to the Curragh next day, arriving there alive and with no broken harness!

At that time French differed from his fellow officers probably rather in degree than in temperament. Although a very keen sportsman he did not put sport first. Colonel C.E. Warde, one of his closest friends, gives the following description of the man. "Although he never attempted to go to the Staff College he was continually studying military works, and often, when his brother subalterns were at polo or other afternoon amusements, he would remain in his room reading Von Schmidt, Jomini, or other books on strategy. I recollect once travelling by rail with him in our subaltern days, when after observing the country for some time, he broke out: 'There is where I should put my artillery.' 'There is where I should put my cavalry' and so on to the journey's end."

In spite of these evidences of a soldier's eye for country, there is nothing to show that French had developed any abnormal devotion for his work. He was interested but not absorbed. In 1880 a captaincy and his marriage probably did something to make him take his career more seriously. His wife, Lady French, was a daughter of Mr. R.W. Selby-Lowndes, of Bletchley, Bucks. They have two sons and a daughter.

A few months after his marriage he accepted an adjutancy in the Northumberland Yeomanry. For four uneventful years he was stationed at Newcastle, where the work was monotonous and the opportunities almost nil.

Naturally the young man fretted very much at being left behind with the Yeomanry when his regiment was ordered to embark for Egypt in 1882. And he never rested until he was allowed to follow it out in 1884. It was in many ways a new 19th which the young officer re-joined in Egypt. The regiment hurried out in 1882 had at last come under a commander of real genius in Colonel Percy Barrow, C.B., and in that commander French was to find his first real military inspiration. It is difficult to judge what his future might have been but for this one man and the Nile Expedition, which proved the turning point in French's career as it did in that of his regiment.

Then, as ever, French was a man who had to wait for his opportunities. He was thirty-two years of age before he saw this, his first piece of active service. Where Kitchener found, or made, opportunities for military experience, French was content to wait the turn of events. So it has been all through his life. He has never forestalled Destiny; he has simply accepted its call. But when an opportunity presented itself he always seized it, and the Nile Expedition was no exception to the rule. Major French, without Staff College training, without the usual diplomas, was to prove himself once and for all a master tactician.

CHAPTER IIToC

With the Nile Expedition

Sir John French's first experience of actual warfare was a bitter one. If ever the British Government bungled one of their military enterprises more thoroughly than another, it was the Nile Expedition of 1884-5. What began as a forlorn hope ended in complete failure, and in three short months French experienced the miseries of retreat, of failure, and of work under an invertebrate War Office.

To this day no one has ever justified the hidden processes of logic by which the Government responsible came to the conclusion that the Soudan must be evacuated. It is true that the Mahdi, Mohammed Ahmed, had won considerable successes against our forces since his appearance in 1881. But no army of any dimensions had ever been opposed to his "Divine powers." Why Gordon should have been entrusted with the evacuation is not so doubtful. W.T. Stead and other journalistic pundits conceived him to be the man for the task, however much Egypt's ruler, Lord Cromer, might differ from their verdict. So to Khartoum Gordon was sent with an all too small band of followers. Presumably the authorities imagined that the man who had worked miracles in China with neither men nor money would settle the Soudan on equally economical terms. But the Mahdi's black braves were other mettle than the yellow men, as Gordon himself well knew from his past experience in the Soudan.

Reaching Khartoum on February 18, 1884, he quickly discovered how perilous the defeat of Baker Pasha at El-Teb had made his position. He at once warned his superiors, but nothing was done. In April he found Khartoum besieged, but even that did not startle the Home authorities from their lethargy. At length, however, the Government realised that to allow their General to perish at the hands of the Dervishes might be to forfeit their prestige in Egypt. Lord Wolseley was accordingly instructed to relieve Khartoum at all costs.

Those instructions were more easy to give than to obey. Wolseley decided to send a flying column across the desert from Korti to Metammeh and thence to Khartoum; and a second up the Nile. With the luckless flying column went part of the 19th Hussars, under Lieutenant-Colonel Barrow. Major French was second in command.

On December 30, General Herbert Stewart's little force, with its thousand odd men and two thousand camels, was on parade for inspection near Korti. At first there was some doubt as to how the camels would stand the attack of the Mahdi's wild warriors.

"In order to test the steadiness of our camels as regarded noise and firing, the 19th Hussars one day at brigade drill charged on the unprotected mass of camels, cheering and yelling. Everybody expected to see them break their ropes and career wildly over the desert. The only result was that one solitary camel struggled to his feet, looked round and knelt down again; the others never moved an eyelid.

"That was satisfactory: and as firing into them with blank cartridges and over them with ball had already been tried ... with no visible result, the general opinion was that they would stand charging niggers or anything else in creation with equanimity. Sad to say we came to the conclusion that it was want of brains pur et simple that caused our steeds to behave thus docilely: any other animal with a vestige of brain would have been scared to death, but, as it was, no one regretted their deficiency."[1]

Before the corps set out from Korti, Sir Herbert Stewart sent for the chief men at Ambukol who knew the desert route. Showing them money he asked whether they would act as guides. This they refused to do. Said Stewart, "You will come anyway. If you like to ride to Metammeh tied on your camels well and good; if you prefer not being lashed on, you will get these nice presents." They agreed to go! So they were sent to ride ahead of the column, guarded by some of the 19th, who had orders to shoot if they attempted to fly. But no such effort was made.

The rest of the 19th had more arduous work to do. During the whole weary march they were far ahead of the column scouting.

"On coming to a plain with hills in the distance, you'd see various specks on the tops of the furthest hills, and with the help of your glasses discover them to be the 19th. Sir Herbert (Stewart) was immensely pleased with them and pointed them out to me as being the very acme of Light Cavalry."[2]

The column itself was almost half-a-mile in length, even when by night it marched in close order. It was a strange sight to see the camels, with long necks outstretched, swaying across the desert towards the horizon, both the men and their ostrich-like steeds enveloped in a huge cloud of dust. A wind storm arose more than once, flinging blinding clouds of sand in the men's faces. On New Year's Eve, however, the soldiers shouted themselves hoarse with "Auld Lang Syne" as they plodded wearily along the moonlit desert.

Very soon the cavalry had an opportunity to distinguish themselves. On the following day a halt was called "to allow the indefatigable 19th to find out the reason of a faint light burning far off on the plain.... They returned with several natives, a string of camels and several loads of dates. They had found ... the natives bivouacked for the night, surprised them, captured as much loot as possible and bolted the rest."[3]

After a fortnight's marching the column came in touch with the enemy at Abu Klea. At this time French's work was peculiarly dangerous. He spent night after night in the desert in solitary watching and waiting for the Dervishes.

On January 16 the 19th Hussars were sent to reconnoitre. They reported that the Mahdi had mustered considerable force between the British camp and the wells. Stewart determined to fight his way through to the wells at any cost. Leaving a very small force to hold his camp, he formed his main body into a square, in which form it advanced. No sooner had the advance begun than the enemy opened a terrific fire. Yet the square pushed on, despite constant halts necessary to assure its formation remaining intact, as the guns were hauled over the rutty and uneven surface of the desert.

Soon, however, the Dervishes rushed to the attack, and Stewart found himself outnumbered by four to one. The attack was delivered with appalling force. The Arabs' shouts as they rushed forward have been described by an eye-witness as like the thunder of the sea.

Their onslaught was so sudden that the square was broken, the heavy camel corps suffering specially severely. So did the naval brigade whose solitary Gardner gun jammed at the critical moment. When Lord Charles Beresford was attempting to clear it his assistants were all speared and he himself was knocked senseless under the gun. Somehow or other, with much difficulty, he managed to get back to the square.

During the afternoon, however, the Arabs' attack began to diminish in violence. Here was the cavalry's opportunity. They charged the enemy with great impetuosity. Gradually the Dervishes were driven off by the aid of the artillery. But there were the wells still to capture, and the detachment of the 19th Hussars was given that important mission. They were able to accomplish it without resistance. That night the thirsty force was able to drink water again—albeit yellow in colour and weird of taste.

After a brief rest the advance on Metammeh was continued, with the Hussars still in the van. On the following night there was a scene of wild disorder. It was very dark and camels began to stumble and lose their places in the long grass.

The men were so weary that many went to sleep and even fell from their camels, which wandered along unguided and strayed far from the column. The night was extraordinarily dark, and there was no moon to light the way for the exhausted column through the wild and pathless country, which would have been difficult to traverse even in broad daylight. At times it was discovered that the troops were going in a circle and the rear guard found itself in front of the force.

When at last open ground was reached the enemy were found to be in strength. Once again a fight was inevitable for the tired force. So Stewart had a zeriba of camel saddles, boxes, etc., hastily flung up to protect his men. By this time the horses of the 19th Hussars were so done up as to render them useless. French's regiment, therefore, was left with some artillery, under Colonel Barrow, in the zeriba, along with the war correspondents, who had tried in vain to make a dash back to Abu Klea.

The rest of the force once more formed into a square to meet the enemy's attack. It was like a tornado when it came.

With a headlong rush eight hundred spearmen, led by emirs on magnificent horses, hurled themselves upon the British square. Without a tremor the troops awaited their onslaught, cheering loudly as they saw the fluttering banners of the enemy approach. The brunt of the attack was on the left angle of the front face, where the Guards and Mounted Infantry received the charge, at a distance of three hundred yards, with a fire so deadly that the front ranks of the yelling Dervishes were mown down. The battle was over within a few moments. The enemy never got within thirty yards of the square, but with broken ranks and wild confusion the spearmen fled, leaving two hundred and fifty of their dead upon the field.

This rapid victory was largely due to the garrison in the zeriba, who made very effective use of their guns. The enemy left two hundred and fifty dead on the field. Yet not a single British soldier was either killed or wounded in actually repelling the charge. Among those seriously wounded later in the day was General Stewart, who died of his wounds a few days later. Almost his last words to Colonel Barrow were, "Take care of the 19th Hussars; they have done well."

But all this gallantry was vain. While the force was still near Metammeh, news came of the fall of Khartoum. An officer who was with him when the blow fell has recorded that he never saw French so profoundly moved as he was on the receipt of these black tidings. With Khartoum fallen the mission of the flying column was ended. Its position indeed had become extremely precarious. The problem before the authorities was now not how to relieve Khartoum, but how to relieve the Relieving Expedition.

It cannot be said that they solved it very successfully. Buller was sent up to Gubat to take command. With him he brought only the Royal Irish and West Kent Regiments to reinforce the column. And his instructions were to seize Metammeh and march on Berber!

Once on the scene, however, Buller soon saw the hopelessness of the situation. Considering that the fall of Khartoum had released a host of the Mahdi's followers, the storming of Metammeh was now a doubly difficult enterprise; an attack on Berber would have been simply suicidal. Buller accordingly determined on a retreat.

On February 13 he evacuated Gubat. On March 1 his advance guard had reached Korti. In this retreat the 19th Hussars again did splendid work. For days on end the column was submitted to that unceasing pelting of bullets which Buller characterised in one of his laconic dispatches as "annoying." But Barrow, the Hussars' chief, was a master of the art of reconnoitring. Time and again he and his men were able to deceive the enemy as to the direction of the column's march. It was then that French had his first experience in "masterly retreat."

How sorely the column was pressed may be shown from one incident. While he was preparing to evacuate Abu Klea, Buller received information to the effect that the enemy was advancing upon him with a force of eight thousand men. He determined upon a desperate measure. He left standing the forts which he had intended to demolish and filled up the larger wells.

A desert well, to the Oriental, is almost sacred, and never even in savage warfare would such a course have been adopted. But Buller knew that the absence of water was the only thing that could check the rush of the oncoming hordes, and this deed, terrible as it may have seemed to the Eastern mind, was his sole means of covering his retreat. Orders were therefore given to fill up all the principal wells with stones and rubbish. It was certainly an effectual measure, for the enemy would be delayed for many hours, perhaps days, before he could restore the wells and obtain sufficient water to enable him to continue in pursuit of the British force which was so hopelessly outnumbered. In the circumstances Buller could not be blamed for saving British lives at the price of Oriental tradition.

Sir Evelyn Wood was also sent with reinforcements from Korti to strengthen the force at Gakdul Wells. There he met French for the first time. "I saw him," Sir Evelyn relates, "when our people were coming back across the desert after our failure, the whole force depressed by the death of Gordon. I came on him about a hundred miles from the river—the last man of the last section of the rear guard! We were followed by bands of Arabs. They came into our bivouac on the night of which I am speaking, and the night following they carried off some of our slaughter cattle."[4]