REVIEW.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 8449, 23 March 1889, Page 5

REVIEW.

The Life and Opinions of Major-general Sir Charles Metcalfc Macgregor, X.C.8., C.5.1., CJ.E., Quartermaster - general in India. Edited by Ladt Macgreqok. —Win. Blackwood aud Sous, Edinburgh and London. The continuous stream of biographies, autobiographies, memoirs, and " reminiscences " is a striking sign of the age wherein we live. Fifty years ago Buch publications were as occasional as comets. But since the author of " Festus " asserted that TII9 world knows nothing of its greatest men, the sentiment has been adopted as a " flattering unction " to their souls by scores of worthy people, suffering from the notion that they or their departed friends have not been sufficiently appreciated by the undiscerning multitude. That the study of biography is excellent training for the young, instructive to the mature, and consolatory to the aged, cannot be gainsaid. There is much force in this well-worn verse of Lougfellow :—

Lives of great men all remind us We may make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Poof prints on the sands of time. The problems that present themselves in this connection are twofold:—Which are the " great men," and what footprints hive they impressed ou the " sands of time." (Duly too often does it happen that the doings and sayings of very little men, and women also, are unnecessarily paraded before a weary world, sometimes by themselves—more, often by admiring friends whom they have left behind them. There have been some great offenders in this respect, chitfly through the force of example. Since the publication of the memoirs of " Albert the Good " by the most exulted personage in the realm, that illustrious precedent has been imitated, almost ad nauseam, by widows and i daughter--, iv the fond hope of setting their departed idols on heroic heights in public estimation. The result is often surprising, and sometimes lamontftblo. An obtuse public will not always see the subject of a memoir as " those others " see it. Absolutely the proper writing of biography is the most difficult of all literary work. Even when the writer is otherwise capable, and his themn is worthy of all honour, the biographer's work h not always of such a character as to exalt the subject in public estimation. Witness, for example, Moore's " Life of Byron," and, more recently, Foster's "Life of Dickens." Who that has read these does not most heartily wish that he had never done so ? Carlyle, again, has not gained by tho publication of his letters and memoirs. Nevertheless | there is a demand for this Bpecies of literature, originating iv an insatiable desire on tho p:trt of the public to penetrate behind the scenes and to exploru the inner recesses of the lives of men and women who have in any way made themsiilvea either famous or notorious during their lives; and it, is to this burning thirst for curious details of private lifu that tho issue of ho many books of this description is attributable. Much of what hr.s been written applies to tho book under review. It is Lady Maegregcw's literary monument to her Ute husband's memory. The Htory of his life, which might advp.utiigeously hnrc; bscii compr-asserl into one thin volume, has bt^n spun out into two thick volumes of 800 pages. Tho first chapter is devoted to an historical—we had almost written hysterical—recital of the misdeeds and misadventures of. the " Celtic sept of Macgregor," or

as they are elsewhere designated—" the wicked Clan Macgregor so lomj continuing in Mood, slaughter, theft, and robbery"—the italics are those of the lady editor. This is not new, and might well have bsen omitted. Then therearua number of let'f.rs written by the boy lieutenant, of an inconsequential character, and of no- interest whatever to the general reader. Also there are many pages of " opinions," which may possibly have been valuable at the time they were delivered, but which after the lapse of years are of no more importance than a departed echo. The book hns some points of interest in it, but these are sadly marred by a lack of discrimination in the selection of fitting materials. Sir Charles Maegregor cannot be regarded as a " great man" from any point of view. That he distinguished himself in his own way

may not be_ disputed. He rose by his owa merits and industry from the position of a subaltern officer to thp.t of general, and eventnally occupied the important post of Quarter-master-general in India. The special commendation due to him, and on which he earned his promotion, was that he was an eminently useful man. As was said or sung of Tom Bowling, " When here belov/ he did his duty, and now," let us hope, " he's gone aloft." His chief work was that of a commissariat officer, and, iv these days of perfunctory observance, it is no slight praise to say that he did this work well. In his case, as in that of many other gallant officers, " the path of duty was the way to glory." Bveryoue who knows anything about such matters kuows that a well-equipped and well-ordered commissariat is essential to the well-beiug, and almost indispensable to the success of the British army — fortunately not entirely so, for if it had been the " Old Ping " would have gone under long ago, in Spain, in India, and in the Crimea,owing to the negligence aud worse, of commissariat officers, aud dishonest army contractors. For these are the weak points of the War department, and if tbo British soldier were not, when sorely pressed, able to fijjht with little food and less shelter, we should ofSer* have come oif badly in our encounters with other nations. Now this is just where Sir Charles Macgregor's ability came into operation with superb effect. He was always the man for the occasion, and, by his admirable disregard for the tawdry bonds of red tape, ha over and over again rendered very effectivo service to the Indian army. His work was not heroic, but it was eminently useful. When appointed deputyassistant quartermaster-general on the northeastern frontier, ho writes: "I am glad of this, as I like the work better than that of brigademajor. The work of the quartermastergeneral consists in procuring intelligence of the enemy, and information regarding the country. What," ho adds," can be more interesting than this ?" From which it is apparent that the lines of his life were cast in thegrooves that best suited him, wherein lies the element of success for mest men. Being interested iv the game of war, he disapproved of peace. Speaking of the Bhutan campaign he records this in his diary :— "I am afraid our little game is all up here. We are to have peace—in fact, as I write, I believe it has been signed. So I am sold again, and must turn my attention to other things. . . . It is a frightful disappointment to me this peace." However, hs had plenty of opportunities to display his skill, not without a watchful eye to his own interests. On one occasion he writes: "I have been for the lasb three months in charge of the military chest with the Traus-Gogra force, and the staff allowance for it is 250 rupees a month—not bad. eh ?" Sir Charles Macgregor was a representative Indian toldier—keen for the "siller," and earning it. But ii; must not bB assumed from these remarks that he was not also a warrior, for he had his share of fighting. He was in the very thick of the Indian Mutiny, being stationed at Firozpur when the Sepoy revolt broke out. Ho i^ays, " There was not a Sapoy who did not bulieve that the issue of greased cartridges was a deliberate plot on the part of the English, designed to break down the caste of the native soldier and to extirpate the creeds of the country." Then he proceeds to tell how five regiments mutinied at Barrackpur on account of the cartridges having bullock's fat iv them, adding—" Altogether there is as jolly a kick-up as one could wish for."

Writing at this <Hstancn of time dispassionately, there seems to be very little doubt that the issue of greased cartridges did hasten, the actual outbreak. But the actual causes were of deeper origin, and the iuc.ident of the cartridges, of which so much has betn said, was used by designing spirits to fan the flame of disaffection which prevailed, and still prevails in India. Britain holds her Eastern Empire by a very slender cord, and her safety there is to found iv the maxim, " Divido and govern." rt is only by setting one tribe against another that England retains her hold of Ihe Indian Empire. And it is a woful blunder to do anything calculated to excite class hostility, sush as was undoubtedly done in the matter of the cartridges.

Sir Charles served through the wholo cf that mutiny, and his story of tho events that occurred are historically interesting and rlso very saddening.- Here is one episoda of ihose fearful times, many of which occur in this part of the book, bringing the terrible events of that awful outbreak vividly before the mind's eye:—

" Mrs Bobertson gave via an account of her escapa from Hissar. One morning, ju<t after breakfast, she heard some firing, buO did not think much of. it till her ayah rushed iuio the room aud told her to fly, as the Sepoys were coining to murder her. She rau out of the house and into the compound of Lieutenant Banvell for safety; but'she had hardly got there when about 50 or 60 Sepoys came into the compound. She ran and hid herself in the garden under a bush, and while she wes there she heard shrieks from the house. Iv a few minute 3 Lieutenant Harwell rushed out, dragging Mrs Earwell with a child in her arms. They made for a buggy, and were just getting iv when the Sepoys came out of the house and rushed at them. Barwell fought like a lion, shot four men with his own haud, and wounded sevanl others with his sword. He placed Mrs Barwell between the bug;jy and himself, while ho tried to keep tlia ruffians oft'; mid he was just going to turn to his wife, apparently to tell her to get into the buggy with ths child, when he heard a bang behind him. He tinned and

saw that a Sepoy had got round to the other side and blown his wife's brains out. He caught hold of the child and ran towards the gate, but before he got 20yds he was shot in the back. He fell, and just before he was murdered he saw the hell-hounds take the poor innocent baby, throw it up in the air and catch it on the points of their bayonets. They then cut off his head «ith a tulwar. Mrs Robertson all the time was nearly fainting. She says she did not feel particularly frightened, but had quite given herself up for lost. She knew her turn would come next—in fact, she had determined on showing herself, so little did she hope for Ler life ; but when she saw the fiends go out of tho compound, leaving the buggy, she got up and went towards the buggy, and when the syce saw her (the wretch had been looking on quietly) he ran out of the compound calliug after the sepoys, and saying there was another mem sahib. She got into the buggy, lashed the horse; but after being fired at several times, and pursued for about a mile, she found herself safe. She went, however, at a furious pace for about five miles, when she drove more gently. After going 10 miles moro she met au old Sikh mounted on a camel. She stopped and told him her story, and he mounted her on his camel and brought her in safe to Firozpur. After behaving in the most respectful manner to her, giving her money aud tying his picgrec round her head (she had no bonnet), she came into Firozpur with her things scarcely hanging on to her, and an enormous tied rouud her head."

Not ia Hindostan only, but in China also with " Fane's Light Horse" Brigade, with Sir Robert Napier—Lord Magdala—in Abyssinia, in the Bhutan campaigu with Gough, in tho second Afghan war, and in sundry minor warlike expeditions, Sir Charles Maegregor took au active I and, as we would fain emphasise it, a useful part. If, in the order of things, there must be war, great is the merit of those who reduce its evils to a possible minimum by attention to the comfort and ease of the victims of the great game of kings. There is much in this biography which is feeble and inconsequential, but there is also much which is interesting and instructive. His career was brief but full of incident, and above all of work. He " passed away" at Cairo in 1887, at the comparatively early age of 46 years. "Don't fret, my child," he said to his wife; " I'm war so much better, and sball soon be all right." Then ho went to sleep, ar.d in sleep his spirit passed tway calmly and peacefully. The Duke of Connaught said of him, " Great r.s were this officer's military services, it is especially with regard to his explorations and his writings that he has earned the gratitude of Englishmen in India. It is chiefly owiug to him that we have now a good knowledge of tho state of affairs beyond [ the frontier." And on the occasion of unveiling tho portrait of Sir Charles ni_.Siuila, Lord Dufierin expressed the ceremony as an appreciation of a great soldier's merits, and the desire to recognise devotion to dull/ wherever found." No nobler epitaph can be inscribed on any man's monument, and it is exactly 0110 which the Crosars and Napoleons of t,he world are not entitled to.