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A ROVING
COMMISSION
BY WINSTON S. CHURCHILL
THE WORLD CRISIS. ign-xj)X4
THE WORLD CRISIS, 19x5
THE WORLD CRISIS, 1916-319x8
THE AFTERMATH
(The World Crisis, 1918-1938)
A ROVING COMMISSION
MISS JENNIE JEROME
(Lady Randolph Churchill)
Roving
Commission
My Early Life
by
THE RT. HON. WINSTON S. CHURCHILL
C.H., M.P.
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1930
COPYRIGHT, 1930, BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
Printed in the United States of America
A
TO
A NEW GENERATION
AUTHOR'S PREFACE
VARIOUS accounts having appeared from time to time of
my early life and adventures, and I myself having pub
lished thirty years ago stories of the several campaigns in
which I took part, and having written later about particular
episodes, I have thought it right to bring the whole together
in a single complete story j and to tell the tale, such as it is,
anew. I have therefore not only searched my memory, but
have most carefully verified my facts from the records which
I possess. I have tried, in each part of the quarter-century in
which this tale lies, to show the point of view appropriate to
-my years, whether as a child, a schoolboy, a cadet, a sub
altern, a war-correspondent or a youthful politician. If these
opinions conflict with those now generally accepted, they must
be taken merely as representing a phase in my early life, and
not in any respect, except where the context warrants, as
modern pronouncements.
When I survey this work as a whole I find I have drawn
a picture of a vanished age. The character of society, the
foundations of politics, the methods of war, the outlook of
youth, the scale of values, are all changed, and changed to
an extent I should not have believed possible in so short a
space without any violent domestic revolution. I cannot pre
tend to feel that they are in all respects changed for the
better. I was a child of the Victorian era, when the structure
of our country seemed firmly set, when its position in trade
and on the seas was unrivalled, and when the realisation of
the greatness of our Empire and of our duty to preserve it
was ever growing stronger. In those days the dominant
forces in Great Britain were very sure of themselves and of
their doctrines. They thought they could teach the world
the art of government, and the science of economics. They
were sure they were supreme at sea and consequently safe at
vii
AUTHOR'S PREFACE
home. They rested therefore sedately under the convictions
of power and security. Very different is the aspect of these
anxious and dubious times. Full allowance for such changes
should be made by friendly readers.
I have thought that it might be of interest to the new
generation to read a story of youthful endeavour, and I have
set down candidly and with as much simplicity as possible
my personal fortunes.
WINSTON SPENCER CHURCHILL.
CHARTWELL MANOR,
1930.
Vlll
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I, CHILDHOOD i
II. HARROW 15
III. EXAMINATIONS . 25
IV. SANDHURST 43
V. THE FOURTH HUSSARS 61
VI. CUBA 74
VII. HOUNSLOW 89
VIII. INDIA 101
IX. EDUCATION AT BANGALORE 109
X. THE MALAKAND FIELD FORCE 122
XL THE MAMUND VALLEY 134
XII. THE TIRAH EXPEDITION 148
XIII. . A DIFFICULTY WITH KITCHENER 161
XIV. THE EVE OF OMDURMAN 171
XV. THE SENSATIONS OF A CAVALRY CHARGE , . . 182
XVI. I LEAVE THE ARMY 197
XVII. OLDHAM 217
XVIII. WITH BULLER TO THE CAPE 229
XIX. THE ARMOURED TRAIN 239
XX. IN DURANCE VILE 259
IX
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
XXL I ESCAPE FROM THE BOERS I 268
XXII. I ESCAPE FROM THE BOERS II 286
XXIIL BACK TO THE ARMY ... 298
XXIV. SPIONKOP 307
XXV. THE RELIEF OF LADYSMITH ...... 318
XXVI. IN THE ORANGE FREE STATE 327
XXVII. JOHANNESBURG AND PRETORIA 343
XXVIII. THE KHAKI ELECTION 353
XXIX. THE HOUSE OF COMMONS 362
INDEX 371
ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS
Miss Jennie Jerome, Lady Randolph Churchill .... Frontispiece
The Author, Aged Five facing page 8
Lord Randolph Churchill, Aged Thirty-Six, Chancellor
of the Exchequer and Leader of the House of
Commons facing page 46
A Gentleman-Cadet facing page 58
In the Fourth Hussars facing page 64
Map of Cuba page 87
Sir Bindon Blood facing page 92
Some Polo Ponies facing page 106
Bangalore facing page 118
Map Illustrating the Operations of the Malakand Force . . page 133
Map of the Mamund Valley page 145
Lady Randolph Churchill (drawn by Sargent) . . . facing page 152
Colonel Sir Ian Hamilton facing page 158
The Charge of the 2 ist Lancers facing page 192
Map Omdurman: The First of September page 195
The Armoured Train : The Start : The End . . . . facing page 244
The Armoured Train (Diagram) page 251
Pretoria, November 1 8 facing page 260
Plan of the State Model Schools page 269
'Dead or Alive' page 291
ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAPS
Welcome at Durban faing page 296
The South African Light Horse facing page 304
Map Around Spion Kop page 317
Map The Relief of Lady smith page 325
Map In the Orange Free State page 342
Map Bloemfontein to Pretoria page 345
General Map Illustrating Mr. Churchill's Journey . . facing page 357,
Member for Oldham facing page 358
Xll
A ROVING
COMMISSION
CHAPTER I
CHILDHOOD
WHEN does one first begin to remember? Wtien do the
waving lights and shadows of dawning consciousness
cast their print upon the mind of a child? My earliest mem
ories are Ireland. I can recall scenes and events in Ireland
quite well, and sometimes dimly even, people. Yet I was
born on November 30, 1874, and I left Ireland early in the
year 1879. My father had gone to Ireland as secretary to
his father, the Duke of Marlborough, appointed Lord-Lieu
tenant by Mr. Disraeli in 1876. We lived in a house called
*The Little Lodge/ about a stone's throw from the Vice
regal. Here I spent nearly three years of childhood. I
have clear and vivid impressions of some events. I remem
ber my grandfather, the Viceroy, unveiling the Lord Gough
statue in 1878. A great black crowd, scarlet soldiers on horse
back, strings pulling away a brown shiny sheet, the old
Duke, the formidable grandpapa, talking loudly to the
crowd. I recall even a phrase he used: 'and with a wither
ing volley he shattered the enemy's line.' I quite under
stood that he was speaking about war and fighting and that
a Volley' meant what the black-coated soldiers (Riflemen)
used to do with loud bangs so often in the Phoenix Park
where I was taken for my morning walks. This, I think, is
my first coherent memory.
Other events stand out more distinctly. We were to go to
a pantomime. There was great excitement about it. The long-
looked-for afternoon arrived. We started from the Vice
regal and drove to the Castle where other children were no
doubt to be picked up. Inside the Castle was a great square
A ROVING COMMISSION
space paved with small oblong stones. It rained. It nearly
always rained just as it does now. People came out of
the doors of the Castle, and there seemed to be much stir.
Then we were told we could not go to the pantomime be
cause the theatre had been burned down. All that was found
of the manager was the keys that had been in his pocket.
We were promised as a consolation for not going to the
pantomime to go next day and see the ruins of the building.
I wanted very much to see the keys, but this request does
not seem to have been well received.
In one of these years we paid a visit to Emo Park, the
seat of Lord Portarlington, who was explained to me as a
sort of uncle. Of this place I can give very clear descrip
tions, though I have never been there since I was four or
four and a half. The central point in my memory is a tall
white stone tower which we reached after a considerable
drive. I was told it had been blown up by Oliver Cromwell.
I understood definitely that he had blown up all sorts of
things and was therefore a very great man.
My nurse, Mrs. Everest, was nervous about the Fenians.
I gathered these were wicked people and there was no end
to what they would do if they had their way. On one occa
sion when I was out riding on my donkey, we thought we
saw a long dark procession of Fenians approaching. I am
sure now it must have been the Rifle Brigade out for a route
march. But we were all very much alarmed, particularly the
donkey, who expressed his anxiety by kicking. I was thrown
off and had concussion of the brain. This was my first intro
duction to Irish politics!
In the Phoenix Park there was a great round clump of
trees with a house inside it. In this house there lived a per
sonage styled the Chief Secretary or the Under Secretary,
I am not clear which. But at any rate from this house there
came a man called Mr. Burke. He gave me a drum. I can
not remember what he looked like, but I remember the
drum. Two years afterwards when we were back in Eng-
2
* CH ILDHOOD
land, they told me he had been murdered by the Fenians in
this same Phoenix Park we used to walk about in every day.
Everyone round me seemed much upset about it, and I
thought how lucky it was the Fenians had not got me when
I fell off the donkey.
It was at 'The Little Lodge' I was first menaced with
Education. The approach of a sinister figure described as
''the Governess 5 was announced. Her arrival was fixed for a
certain day. In order to prepare for this day Mrs. Everest
produced a book called Reading without Tears. It certainly
did not justify its title in my case. I was made aware that
before the Governess arrived I must be able to read with
out tears. We toiled each day. My nurse pointed with a pen
at the different letters. I thought it all very tiresome. Our
preparations were by no means completed when the fateful
hour struck and the Governess was due to arrive. I did what
so many oppressed peoples have done in similar circum
stances: I took to the woods. I hid in the extensive shrub
beries forests they seemed which surrounded 'The Lit
tle Lodge.' Hours passed before I was retrieved and handed
over to 'the Governess,' We continued to toil every day, not
only at letters but at words, and also at what was much
worse, figures. Letters after all had only got to be known,
and when they stood together in a certain way one recog
nised their formation and that it meant a certain sound or
word which one uttered when pressed sufficiently. But the
figures were tied into all sorts of tangles and did things to
one another which it was extremely difficult to forecast with
complete accuracy. You had to say what they did each time
they were tied up together, and the Governess apparently
attached enormous importance to the answer being exact. If
it was not right, it was wrong. It was not any use being
'nearly right.' In some cases these figures got into debt with
one another: you had to borrow one or carry one, and, after
wards you had to pay back the one you had borrowed. These
complications cast a steadily gathering shadow over my daily
3
A ROVING COMMISSION
life. They took one away from all the interesting things one
wanted to do in the nursery or in the garden. They made
increasing inroads upon one's leisure. One could hardly get
time to do any of the things one wanted to do. They became
a general worry and preoccupation. More especially was this
true when we descended into a dismal bog called 'sums.'
There appeared to be no limit to these. When one sum was
done, there was always another. Just as soon as I managed
to tackle a particular class of these afflictions, some other
much more variegated type was thrust upon me.
My mother took no part in these impositions, but she gave
me to understand that she approved of them and she sided
with the Governess almost always. My picture of her in
Ireland is in a riding habit, fitting like a skin and often
beautifully spotted with mud. She and my father hunted
continually on their large horses; and sometimes there were
great scares because one or the other did not come back for
many hours after they were expected.
My mother always seemed to me a fairy princess: a ra
diant being possessed of limitless riches and power. Lord
D'Abernon has described her as she was in these Irish days
in words for which I am grateful.
. . . C I have the clearest recollection of seeing her for
the first time. It was at the Vice-Regal Lodge at Dublin. She
stood on one side to the left of the entrance. The Viceroy
was on a dais at the farther end of the room surrounded by
a brilliant staff, but eyes were not turned on him or on his
consort, but on a dark, lithe figure, standing somewhat apart
and appearing to be of another texture to those around her,
radiant, translucent, intense. A diamond star in her hair, her
favourite ornament its lustre dimmed by the flashing glory
of her eyes. More of the panther than of the woman in
her look, but with a cultivated intelligence unknown to the
jungle. Her courage not less great than that of her husband
fit mother for descendants of the great Duke. With all
CHILDHOOD
these attributes of brilliancy, such kindliness and high spirits
that she was universally popular. Her desire to please, her
delight in life, and the genuine wish that all should share
her joyous faith in it, made her the centre of a devoted
circle.'
My mother made the same brilliant impression upon my
childhood's eye. She shone for me like the Evening Star. I
loved her dearly but at a distance. My nurse was my con
fidante. Mrs. Everest it was who looked after me and tended
all my wants. It was to her I poured out my many troubles,
both now and in my schooldays. Before she came to us, she
had brought up for twelve years a little girl called Ella,
the daughter of a clergyman who lived in Cumberland.
'Little Ella/ though I never saw her, became a feature in
my early life. I knew all about herj what she liked to eatj
how she used to say her prayers 3 in what ways she was
naughty and in what ways good. I had a vivid picture in my
mind of her home in the North country. I was also taught
to be very fond of Kent. It was, Mrs. Everest said, 'the
garden of England.' She had been born at Chatham, and
was immensely proud of Kent. No county could compare
with Kent, any more than any other country could compare
with England. Ireland, for instance, was nothing like so
good. As for France, Mrs. Everest who had at one time
wheeled me in my perambulator up and down what she
called the 'Shams Elizzie' thought very little of it. Kent
was the place. Its capital was Maidstone, and all round
Maidstone there grew strawberries, cherries, raspberries and
plums. Lovely! I always wanted to live in Kent.
I revisited 'The Little Lodge' when lecturing on the
Boer War in Dublin in the winter of 1900. I remembered
well that it was a long low white building with green shut
ters and verandahs, and that there was a lawn around it
about as big as Trafalgar Square and entirely surrounded by
forests. I thought it must have been at least a mile from
S
A ROVING COMMISSION
the Viceregal. When I saw it again, I was astonished to find
that the lawn was only about sixty yards across, that the
forests were little more than bushes, and that it only took
a minute to ride to it from the Viceregal where I was
staying.
My next foothold of memory is Ventnor. I loved Vent-
nor. Mrs. Everest had a sister who lived at Ventnor. Her
husband had been nearly thirty years a prison warder. Both
then and in later years he used to take me for long walks
over the Downs or through the Landslip. He told me many
stories of mutinies in the prisons and how he had been at
tacked and injured on several occasions by the convicts.
When I first stayed at Ventnor we were fighting a war with
the Zulus. There were pictures in the papers of these Zulus.
They were black and naked, with spears called 'assegais*
which they threw very cleverly. They killed a great many
of our soldiers, but judging from the pictures, not nearly so
many as our soldiers killed of them. I was very angry with
the Zulus, and glad to hear they were being killed j and
so was my friend, the old prison warder. After a while it
seemed that they were all killed, because this particular war
came to an end and there were no more pictures of Zulus
in the papers and nobody worried any more about them.
One day when we were out on the cliffs near Ventnor, we
saw a great splendid ship with all her sails set, passing the
shore only a mile or two away. c That is a troopship,' they
said, 'bringing the men back from the war.' But it may have
been from India, I cannot remember. 1 Then all of a sudden
there were black clouds and wind and the first drops of a
storm, and we just scrambled home without getting wet
through. The next time I went out on those cliffs there was
no splendid ship in full sail, but three black masts were
pointed out to me, sticking up out of the water in a stark
way. She was the Ewrydice? She had capsized in this very
*In fact she was a training ship.
2 Pronounced by us in two syllables.
6
CHILDHOOD
squall and gone to the bottom with three hundred soldiers
on board. The divers went down to bring up the corpses. I
was told and it made a scar on my mind that some of
the divers had fainted with terror at seeing the fish eating
the bodies of the poor soldiers who had been drowned just
as they were coming bafck home after all their hard work
and danger in fighting savages. I seem to have seen some
of these corpses towed very slowly by boats one sunny day.
There were many people on the cliffs to watch, and we all
took off our hats in sorrow.
Just about this time also there happened the *Tay Bridge
Disaster.' A whole bridge tumbled down while a train was
running on it in a great storm, and all the passengers were
drowned. I supposed they could not get out of the car
riage windows in time. It would be very hard to open one
of those windows where you have to pull up a long strap be
fore you can let it down. No wonder they were all drowned.
All my world was very angry that the Government should
have allowed a bridge like this to tumble down. It seemed
to me they had been very careless, and I did not wonder at
all that the people said they would vote against them for
being so lazy and neglectful as to let such a shocking thing
happen.
In 1880 we were all thrown out of office by Mr. Glad
stone. Mr. Gladstone was a very dangerous man who went
about rousing people up, lashing them into fury so that
they voted against the Conservatives and turned my grand
father out of his place as Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. He
liked this place much less than his old office of Lord Presi
dent of the Council, which he had held in Lord Beacons-
field's previous government. When he was Lord-Lieutenant
he had to spend all his money on giving entertainments
to the Irish in Dublin} and my grandmother had also got up
a great subscription called 'The Famine Fund/ However,
it was borne in upon me that the Irish were a very ungrate
ful people: they did not say so much as 'Thank you' for the
A ROVING COMMISSION
entertainments, nor even for 'The Famine Fund.* The Duke
would much rather have stayed in England where he could
live in his own home at Blenheim and regularly attend the
Cabinet. But he always did whatever Lord Beaconsfield told
him to do. Lord Beaconsfield was the great enemy of Mr.
Gladstone, and everybody called him 'Dizzy.' However,
this time 'Dizzy' had been thoroughly beaten by Mr. Glad
stone, so we were all flung out into Opposition and the coun
try began to be ruined very rapidly. Everyone said it was
'going to the dogs.' And then on top of all this Lord Bea
consfield got very ill. He had a long illness j and as he was
also very old, it killed him. I followed his illness from day
to day with great anxiety, because everyone said what a
loss he would be to his country and how no one else could
stop Mr. Gladstone from working his wicked will upon us
all. I was always sure Lord Beaconsfield was going to die,
and at last the day came when all the people I saw went
about with very sad faces because, as they said, a great and
splendid Statesman, who loved our country and defied the
Russians, had died of a broken heart because of the ingrati
tude with which he had been treated by the Radicals.
I have already described the dreaded apparition in my
world of 'The Governess.' But now a much worse peril be
gan to threaten. I was to go to school. I was now seven
years old, and I was what grown-up people in their offhand
way called 'a troublesome boy.' It appeared that I was to
go away from home for many weeks at a stretch in order
to do lessons under masters. The term had already begun,
but still I should have to stay seven weeks before I could
come home for Christmas. Although much that I had heard
about school had made a distinctly disagreeable impression
on my mind, an impression, I may add, thoroughly borne
out by the actual experience, I was also excited and agitated
by this great change in my life. I thought in spite of the
lessons, it would be fun living with so many other boys, and
that we should make friends together and have great ad-
8
THE AUTHOR, AGED FIVE
CHILDHOOD
ventures. Also I was told that c school days were the hap
piest time in one's life.' Several grown-up people added that
in their day, when they were young, schools were very
rough: there was bullying, they didn't get enough to eat,
they had 'to break the ice in their pitchers' each morning
(a thing I have never seen done in my life). But now it was
all changed. School life nowadays was one long treat. All
the boys enjoyed it. Some of my cousins who were a little
older had been quite sorry I was told to come home for
the holidays. Cross-examined the cousins did not confirm
this} they only grinned. Anyhow I was perfectly helpless.
Irresistible tides drew me swiftly forward. I was no more
consulted about leaving home than I had been about com
ing into the world.
It was very interesting buying all the things one had to
have for going to school. No less than fourteen pairs of socks
were on the list. Mrs. Everest thought this was very ex
travagant. She said that with care ten pairs would do quite
well. Still it was a good thing to have some to spare, as one
could then make sure of avoiding the very great dangers
inseparable from 'sitting in wet feet.'
The fateful day arrived. My mother took me to the sta
tion in a hansom cab. She gave me three half-crowns which
I dropped on to the floor of the cab, and we had to scramble
about in the straw to find them again. We only just caught
the train. If we had missed it, it would have been the end of
the world. However, we didn't, and the world went on.
The school my parents had selected for my education was
one of the most fashionable and expensive in the country.
It modelled itself upon Eton and aimed at being preparatory
for that Public School above all others. It was supposed to
be the very last thing in schools. Only ten boys in a class j
electric light (then a wonder) - y a swimming pond 5 spacious
football and cricket grounds 5 two or three school treats, or
'expeditions' as they were called, every term 5 the masters
all M.A.'s in gowns and mortar-boards j a chapel of its ownj
9
A ROVING COMMISSION
no hampers allowed 5 everything provided by the authori
ties. It was a dark November afternoon when we arrived at
this establishment. We had tea with the Headmaster, with
whom my mother conversed in the most easy manner. I was
preoccupied with the fear of spilling my cup and so making
'a bad start.' I was also miserable at the idea of being left
alone among all these strangers in this great, fierce, formi
dable place. After all I was only seven, and I had been so
happy in my nursery with all my toys. I had such wonderful
toys: a real steam engine, a magic lantern, and a collection
of soldiers already nearly a thousand strong. Now it was to
be all lessons. Seven or eight hours of lessons every day
except half-holidays, and football or cricket in addition.
When the last sound of my mother's departing wheels had
died away, the Headmaster invited me to hand over any
money I had in my possession. I produced my three half-
crowns which were duly entered in a book, and I was told
that from time to time there would be a 'shop' at the school
with all sorts of things which one would like to have, and
that I could choose what I liked up to the limit of the seven
and sixpence. Then we quitted the Headmaster's parlour
and the comfortable private side of the house, and entered
the more bleak apartments reserved for the instruction and
accommodation of the pupils. I was taken into a Form Room
and told to sit at a desk. All the other boys were out of doors,
and I was alone with the Form Master. He produced a thin
greeny-brown-covered book filled with words in different
types of print.
'You have never done any Latin before, have you?' he
said.
