in good company 10

in good company 10

That the prayer was ultimately attributed to the Field-Marshal

instead of to the Archbishop I diagnose thus: Even though “Tommy”

was specifically informed that it was composed by Archbishop

Alexander--to “Tommy” that information meant little or nothing. But

to “Tommy” the fact that it had been specially sent to him by his

beloved “Bobs” would mean everything; and so, no doubt, it became

known as “Lord Roberts’ prayer,” and as “Lord Roberts’ prayer” it

came to the knowledge of the editor of _A Cloud of Witnesses_, and

was printed in good faith by him over the Field-Marshal’s signature

in that book, whence it was reproduced, equally in good faith, in

other prints.

 

But to recur to the little book in which I found the prayer

attributed, and rightly, to the Archbishop. With the owner’s

permission I sent it to Lord Roberts to see for himself how, in my

opinion--and he entirely agreed with me--the mistake originally

arose. His reply has a characteristic touch, for though he went

out to South Africa to take supreme command, his soldier-like way

of putting it is “When I was ordered out.” Nor is the reference to

failing memory without pathos to those whose smallest service to the

cause he had so at heart--National Defence--was never forgotten by

one of the greatest-hearted and most generous of men and of chiefs.

 

ALMOND’S HOTEL, CLIFFORD STREET,

LONDON, W., _15th Feb., 1914_.

 

DEAR KERNAHAN,

 

I cannot think how I could have forgotten about the prayer, for I

myself asked the Primate to write it. I knew him well, and I was

greatly struck by the few verses he wrote about “War” shortly

after the trouble in South Africa had commenced.

 

When I was ordered out I wrote to the Primate and asked him to

write out a short prayer. I had some thousand copies printed and

distributed.

 

I am so glad you discovered who the author was, although your

doing so proves and makes me sad to think that my memory is not

so good as I thought it was.

 

I am returning your little book. I wish I could have kept it.

 

Yours sincerely,

ROBERTS.

 

My next meeting with Lord Roberts was twelve days later, and was

at No. 10 Downing Street, Mr. Asquith’s official residence. Lord

Roberts said, among other things, in the talk we had together on that

occasion that he was very much indebted to me for the promptness with

which I had unravelled the mystery about himself and the Archbishop,

and went on gravely:

 

“I very much dislike having attributed to me a prayer which I did

not write. It is not, as you know, that I do not believe in prayer.

I have humbly asked God’s help and guidance in everything that I

undertook all through my life, and never more so than now, when I am

an old man, and His call may be very near. But----” he hesitated a

moment, “offering up a brief prayer--it may only be the words ‘God

help me!’--before going into action, or in some time of difficulty,

is one thing; and sitting down to write, to print and publish a

prayer for others is quite another thing--for a soldier, at least.

That was why I asked my friend the Archbishop to compose the prayer.

It was for him, God’s minister, a clergyman, not for me, a soldier,

to do it.”

 

Lord Roberts then asked me to advise him how best to prevent a

recurrence of the error by which the prayer was attributed to him. I

replied that if he wished I would on his behalf write to the editor

of _A Cloud of Witnesses_ pointing out the mistake, and suggesting

that an erratum slip, making the correction, be inserted in all

copies of the book already printed, and that the Archbishop’s name

replace that of Lord Roberts in any future edition.

 

“I shall be so much obliged if you will,” he said gratefully. “May I

leave it to you, and will you let me know when you hear from him?”

 

I promised to do so, and carried the promise into effect, sending

Lord Roberts, when I received it, the editor’s reply, in which,

after expressing regret for the error, he undertook to do what was

proposed. That Lord Roberts felt strongly about the matter, and was

most anxious that the correction should be made, will be seen by the

following letter which I received the morning after I had seen him at

Downing Street:

 

ENGLEMERE, ASCOT, BERKS,

_28th Feb., 1914_.

 

DEAR KERNAHAN,

 

Thanks for your letter of the 21st instant and for sending me the

little book, which I wish I could have kept. Would it be possible

to communicate with the author of the book you sent me in which

the prayer of the Primate of Ireland appeared under my name? I

should like to have this corrected, as it is quite wrong that I

should have the credit of being the author of such a beautiful

prayer when I was only the indirect means of it being written.

 

(Thus far Lord Roberts’ letter was typed. Then in his own strong,

clear, firm hand the letter concluded as follows): This letter

was dictated before I met you yesterday. I only send it as a

reminder.

 

I may just add in conclusion that “the little book” which he twice,

almost wistfully, said he wished he could have kept (if I remember

rightly it told, among other things, of his son’s death in South

Africa) was by the courtesy of the friend from whom I had borrowed

it, reforwarded to Lord Roberts, and was by him gratefully and gladly

acknowledged.

 

 

III

 

Even as an old man--though none of us who knew and loved him could

ever bring ourselves to think of Lord Roberts as old--his energy was

amazing, and the amount of work he got through was stupendous. His

mere correspondence alone would have kept any other man going all

day and with no moment to spare for the many great issues with which

his name was connected. He accomplished so much because he practised

in his own life the organisation, if not indeed the National Service

which he preached to the nation--the organisation which, as he

foresaw, would be so tremendous a driving power behind Germany when

the time came for her to force a war upon this country, the war

which he even more clearly foresaw.

 

As an instance of how Lord Roberts systematised his days, I may

mention that a friend of mine and his, recently returned from

Bulgaria, wished to see him to put certain military facts before him,

and also, if I remember rightly, to present him with some interesting

trophies of the war which he knew the Field-Marshal would prize. He

wrote accordingly and asked for an appointment. Lord Roberts replied

by return of post, from Almond’s Hotel, Clifford Street, W., to say

that he was then in town but was returning to Ascot the following

day. “If it will be saving you a railway journey--and I know what a

busy man you are,” he wrote, “to see me here at the Hotel, instead

of at Ascot, by all means let it be so. But I am afraid, if not too

early for you, it must be at 8.30 in the morning, as the rest of my

day is already mapped out.”

 

My friend smiled sadly in telling me the story. “As a matter of

fact,” he said, “8.30, and even later, generally sees me tubbing,

shaving, or at best breakfasting, but if 8.30 was not too early for

a great soldier who had turned 80 to be up, and ready to receive

visitors, I could hardly plead that 8.30 was too early for me,” and

the appointment was made.

 

 

IV

 

Like most Irishmen, Lord Roberts had a keen sense of humour. At a

public dinner at which I was present he had for a near neighbour, at

the high table, Lord Willoughby de Broke, who in his after-dinner

speech had occasion to refer to the Territorial Army.

 

“If I am asked,” he said, “whether a young man should join the

Territorial Army, my answer is invariably ‘Yes,’ and for three

reasons. The first reason is that he will, perhaps for the first time

in his life, be coming under the salutary influence of Discipline,

and I say confidently and without fear of contradiction, that there

is no finer influence for a young fellow than that of Discipline.”

 

These were sentiments that appealed to a soldier, and of the many

approving cries of “Hear! Hear!” which came from all parts of the

room, none rang more whole-heartedly than those of Lord Roberts.

 

“My second reason,” went on the speaker, “is that the young man will

thereby be discharging a patriotic duty. To-day we are all thinking

too much of our rights, rarely of our responsibilities, and in my

opinion every able-bodied young fellow, whether he be a duke’s son,

a draper’s son, or the son of a costermonger, should be trained to

defend his country against an invader in her hour of need.”

 

Once again Lord Willoughby de Broke was expressing the very

sentiments with which Lord Roberts’ name was so closely associated,

and again it was the great soldier’s “Hear! Hear!” which was most

emphatic.

 

“And lastly,” concluded the speaker, “my reason for advising every

young fellow to join the Territorial Army is that it gives him a

chance of--getting away from his wife for a night or a week or a

fortnight without putting him to the trouble of hashing up some

silly excuse which she knows is as palpably a fake and a lie as he

does himself.”

 

Thus far Lord Willoughby de Broke had spoken with such grave

earnestness that we were all prepared as heartily to endorse his

third reason as his previous ones. Lord Roberts had, in fact, raised

his right hand above his left to applaud when the speaker sprang this