It is along casualty list of officers—­of the best officers in the world.  The brave and accomplished General of Glencoe; Colonel Chisholme, who brought the 9th Lancers out of action in Afghanistan; Sherston, who managed the Indian Polo Association; Haldane, Sir William Lockhart’s brilliant aide-de-camp; Barnes, adjutant of the 4th Hussars, who played back of our team and went with me to Cuba; Brooke, who had tempted fortune more often than anyone else in the last four years—­Chitral, Matabeleland, Samana, Tira, Atbara, and Omdurman—­and fifty others who are only names to me, but are dear and precious to many, all lying under the stony soil or filling the hospitals at Pietermaritzburg and Durban.  Two thousand Boers killed!  I wish I could believe there were.

Next morning Sir Redvers Buller landed in state.  Sir F. Forestier-Walker and his staff came to meet him.  The ship was decked out in bunting from end to end.  A guard of honour of the Duke of Edinburgh’s Volunteers lined the quay; a mounted escort attended the carriage; an enormous crowd gathered outside the docks.  At nine o’clock precisely the General stepped on to the gangway.  The crew and stokers of the ‘Dunottar Castle’ gave three hearty cheers; the cinematograph buzzed loudly; forty cameras clicked; the guard presented arms, and the harbour batteries thundered the salute.  Then the carriage drove briskly off into the town through streets bright with waving flags and black with cheering people.  So Sir Redvers Buller came back again to South Africa, the land where his first military reputation was made, where he won his Victoria Cross, the land which—­let us pray—­he will leave having successfully discharged the heavy task confided to him by the Imperial Government.

Now, what is the situation which confronts the General and the army?  I will adventure an explanation, though the picture of war moves very swiftly.  In their dealing with the military republics which had become so formidable a power throughout the Cape, the Ministers who were responsible for the security of our South African possessions were compelled to reckon with two volumes of public opinion—­British and colonial.  The colonial opinion was at its best (from our point of view) about three months ago.  But the British opinion was still unformed.  The delays and diplomatic disputes which have gradually roused the nation to a sense of its responsibilities and perils, and which were absolutely necessary if we were to embark on the struggle united, have had an opposite effect out here.  The attempts to satisfy the conscientious public by giving the republics every possible opportunity to accept our terms and the delays in the despatch of troops which were an expensive tribute to the argument ‘Do not seek peace with a sword,’ have been misinterpreted in South Africa.  The situation in the Cape Colony has become much graver.  We have always been told of the wonderful loyalty of the Dutch.  It is possible that had war broken out three months ago that loyalty would have been demonstrated for all time.  War after three months of hesitation—­for such it was considered—­has proved too severe a test, and it is no exaggeration to say that a considerable part of the Colony trembles on the verge of rebellion.  On such a state of public opinion the effect of any important military reverse would be lamentable.