CHAPTER 4

The Brigade Major

Lieutenant Colonel John Macquarie Antill, the brigade major of the 3rd Light horse Brigade, was a 48-year-old professional soldier who had a long association with the old mounted rifles and the light horse regiments in New South Wales. Together, he and Hughes would become central characters in the controversy which arose following the battle at The Nek. It is important to trace the backgrounds of these two men in order to throw some light on their relationship and their conduct in battle.

Jack Antill was descended from a distinguished line of British army officers, from whom he inherited an interest in history and a sense of his own destiny. He was born on 26 January 1866 at ‘Jarvisfield’, a property at Picton, New South Wales, originally established by his grandfather, in the large comfortable house his father had built only a year or so earlier.

It must have seemed unusual that in the 3rd Light Horse Brigade, composed as it was of Victorians, South Australians and Western Australians, such a senior position should have been given to an officer so closely connected to New South Wales. Antill’s family had deep roots in the state. His grandfather, Major Henry Colden Antill, had served in America and India before coming to the colony, where he was the devoted aide-decamp to Governor Lachlan Macquarie. The major was one of the prominent citizens in the early settlement and was duly granted a tract of land, which he named ‘Jarvisfield’ in honour of the governor’s own estate in Scotland. A private village was developed on the property, which grew to be called Picton. The picturesque little town, to which Jack Antill regularly returned, lay nestled in the hills on the main southern road from Sydney. The railway arrived early, providing a speedy and reliable link to the city.

It was often said that Jack Antill was born to be a soldier. In reality, the career was probably chosen by his father, who had decided that his eldest son, Robert Henry, would inherit ‘Jarvisfield’. Young Jack was a good sportsman interested in boxing and fencing and was an experienced horse rider. Clearly he was robust enough to pursue a career in the field in which his family had been long involved. He received his first taste of military life as a cadet at Sydney Grammar School, and in 1887 he joined the local reserves.

In 1889 a mounted company was raised at Picton under the patronage of the Antills, and Jack was given the command. The arrangement had obvious parallels with the Clarkes’ involvement in the Nordenfeldt Battery in Victoria, although here the Antills’ contribution was not so closely defined. The company became part of the New South Wales Mounted Infantry Regiment under Captain Henry Beauchamp Lassetter.

The mounted infantry had initially been formed to provide a permanent cadre of mounted troops for the New South Wales defence forces. It had been decided to expand the unit to a full regiment by the inclusion of part-time country companies, each of three officers and 47 rank and file. In 1890 the permanent company was disbanded, and three years later the regiment was renamed the New South Wales Mounted Rifles.

The family’s connection with the mounted rifles became even stronger after the commanding officer married the youngest of the Antill girls in August 1891. Harry Lassetter had been born in Sydney, where his family ran one of the largest and best known city stores, but had received his education in England, after which he entered Sandhurst Royal Military College. He obtained his commission in 1880 and saw active service in Egypt and the Sudan with the South Staffordshire Regiment, before coming home to Australia.

Through the influence of his father, and possibly supported by his brother-in-law, Antill was brought to the attention of Major General Edward Hutton, then commanding the forces of the colony. Hutton arranged for him to be sent to India in 1893 to gain experience in the field with the British army. Upon his return in the following year, Antill was transferred to the permanent forces, retaining the rank of captain. He resumed his involvement with the mounted rifles as the regiment’s adjutant.

Hutton was an important British military figure and a person of wide influence. He later served a second period in Australia, returning in 1902 and remaining for three years to undertake the organisation of the new Commonwealth army. With more efficiency than tact, he set about converting the old colonial units into a new citizens’ force. This included the creation of the Australian Light Horse from the former various mounted regiments. Antill retained his association with Hutton, and even after the general retired home to England they continued to exchange letters.

It was the war in South Africa which established Antill’s military reputation. He had the professional good fortune to hold a position in a regiment that would be required to play an important role in the war. Added to this, he had arrived at the front in time to take part in some of the most famous battles.

Antill was placed in command of a service squadron from his regiment, which was a part of the first contingent sent to the war from the Australian colonies. His unit – A Squadron, New South Wales Mounted Rifles – arrived at Capetown on 6 December 1899. He was present at the relief of Kimberley, the battles of Paardeberg and Osfontein, the entry into Bloemfontein, and the capture of Pretoria. At Paardeberg the mounted rifles assisted in locating the main Boer force under General Piet Cronje, which had tried to slip past the advancing British army. The British converged on the Boers, who were surrounded; with diminishing food supplies, their horses and stock killed, and having no doctors to attend their sick and wounded, they surrendered.

The capture of Cronje’s army was the first major British victory of the war, and Antill’s little band played a minor but quite recognisable part. In acknowledgment of its work, the squadron was given the honour of being among the first troops to enter the enemy’s lines. Antill reported: ‘We were first into the laager (which was a pit of dead and filth) to collect prisoners, wounded, arms, and ammunition, and it was a nauseous job.’¹ Later he sent Cronje’s white surrender flag back to his brother at ‘Jarvisfield’; it became a major attraction in Sydney when it was placed on display in the window of Lassetter’s George Street store.

Further mounted rifles squadrons arrived from Australia and on 5 March 1900, at Osfontein, they combined to form a regiment, with Antill retaining command of A Squadron. When the regiment marched out of Bloemfontein, it became part of a strong brigade under Major General Edward Hutton, the same officer who had been commandant in New South Wales some years earlier. Hutton was an exponent of mounted warfare, and Antill once again impressed him. Within a few days he was mentioned by Hutton in a letter to the premier of New South Wales as having contributed to the successful work of the mounted rifles in an action at Vet River.

Later, in the fighting around Pretoria, Antill was again recognised with special praise. Following the actions leading up to the fall of this Boer capital, and in the battle which followed at Diamond Hill, Colonel H.B. de Lisle² reported:

Major J.M. Antill, NSW Mounted Rifles, commanded this splendid Regiment for a considerable time during the absence of the Commanding Officer. On two occasions he led his Regiment at a gallop against positions held by the enemy. Proving himself to be a fearless and valuable leader in the field. He has shown great capacity in command of his regiment.³

Antill arrived back in Sydney on 8 January 1901. He had become something of a minor celebrity and his photograph appeared in most of the local publications on the war; he even received mention in the Illustrated London News. His experience contrasted with that of his brother Edward, who had gone to the war with A Battery of the New South Wales Artillery. Edward had a frustrating time chasing after the Boers and never really catching up with them.

Jack Antill did not stay at home for long. In March he left again for South Africa, this time as second-in-command of the 2nd New South Wales Mounted Rifles, a large regiment commanded by his brother-in-law. Although no more big battles were fought, the regiment saw a lot of service in the Transvaal during the guerrilla phase of the war. This time he was away for less than six months.

On 24 October 1901, in historic St James Church, Antill married Agnes Marion Willsallen in what the Sydney Morning Herald described as ‘a fashionable wedding’. The couple had become engaged while he was at home between his tours of service in South Africa.

Jack Antill was by then established as an experienced and bold professional soldier. He had twice been mentioned in despatches, been appointed a Commander of the Order of the Bath (CB), and granted the brevet rank of lieutenant colonel for his war service. This last honour entitled him to the badges and privileges of a lieutenant colonel but not the pay or seniority. His service medal, worn after his CB, bore seven bars with the names of the battles in which he had taken part. It was something scarcely matched by any other local officer.

When his fighting expeditions were over, and now a married man, he returned to his regiment as adjutant, just as it was preparing to be split and converted into two regiments of light horse under the Commonwealth organisation. His duties were then considerably expanded by his appointment as chief instructor of light horse for the state. Possibly Hutton’s hand was again at work. In 1904–06 he proudly emulated his grandfather by being appointed an aide-de-camp to the governor-general, Lord Northcote. In 1906, with the substantive rank of major and having turned 40, he retired from the army and went back to Picton, before later residing on a property owned by his in-laws at Gunnedah.

Five years later, in 1911, Antill was given the opportunity to return to soldiering, and he willingly took it. The Australian army was undergoing drastic changes and expansion resulting from the introduction of universal training. The scheme required that all young males undergo compulsory military service in the cadet forces and the militia. Additional officers and NCOs, particularly instructors, were required for the expanded force. Antill returned to the Administrative and Instructional Staff, a body of professional experienced soldiers, with his former rank and was appointed commandant of the Instructional Staff Schools. He assembled a small team of experienced officers and warrant officers to provide training at Albury, in southern New South Wales, for the army’s permanent instructors.

Antill, who now became known to a new generation of young soldiers, already had the reputation of being a disciplinarian. His square stance, thrusting jaw, loud voice and narrowed eyes were intimidating. In South Africa Brigadier General Edwin Alderson,⁴ commanding the mounted infantry, had said that ‘his Contingent has been more under control and in hand than any of the Colonial troops I have seen’.⁵ His seniors knew him to be tough and uncompromising. Brigadier General Joseph Gordon, commandant in New South Wales, had described him in 1906 as ‘always a man to a man’.⁶ But he was more than that – he was a rigid authoritarian. He believed that he applied discipline in his own behaviour and demanded it in others, and it showed in his demeanour. Melbourne Punch gave a colourful description of him:

When he instructs, he flails the instruction into his pupils with his tongue. Some officers to whom he tells the raw, uncloaked truth about themselves are apt to become offended. It is unfortunate, but to divorce Antill from his own particular manner would be to rob him of his effectiveness. Few men of his age could live long with him in a set-to. He is of the hard-hitting, finish-early school – a dangerous man to face. [He] can ride to a standstill the worst of the buckjumpers, and loves to do it. He has the clear cut face, the close shut mouth and the hard eye of the determined man. When he speaks there is a decisive ring about his words, which are as few as possible. He is a soldier all through.⁷

He became widely known as ‘Bull’ Antill. The nickname is revealing for, while it is an apparent reference to his toughness, there were other connotations. “Bull” had its own military meaning – the word is said to have originated in the Australian army to describe the excessive attention to drill and spit and polish. In the 3rd Light Horse Brigade the nickname had a humorous association. A 9th Light Horse officer many years later recalled that, rather than ‘Bull Antill’, the name was pronounced ‘Bullant hill’⁸. This is confirmed in the diary of Lieutenant Colonel Alexander White, who consistently refers to Antill as ‘Bullant’.

A number of young men destined to hold commands during the war were trained by Antill. Sir Richard Williams, in his autobiography, recalls his time at Albury, where Antill questioned his entitlement to sit examinations. Once this was settled, he made sure that Williams, a former bank clerk who was not very familiar with horses, qualified at the riding test by insisting that he ride the 100-kilometre round journey to Beechworth and back. Sixty years later Williams still recalled his discomfort: ‘The commandant then told me I must “heal in the saddle”, in which he assisted by ordering me to take the horse to collect the mail twice a day. It seemed to take a long time but it worked.’⁹

In 1911 Antill became one of the first Australian officers to fly when he accepted a ride as an observer in a flimsy Bristol Boxkite being demonstrated at the Liverpool camp. He was ‘amazed to see so many Light Horse squadrons operating over such a widespread an area’.¹⁰ Eventually, it was Williams who was accepted to attend the newly formed Central Flying School in Victoria. He then served as an officer in the First World War, commanding No. 1 Squadron, Australian Flying Corps, and continued on to become chief of the air staff and ‘the father of the RAAF’.

Antill’s manner sometimes brought him into controversy. In 1911 he had been appointed to the army’s inspection staff. He was required to attend militia training camps and submit reports to the inspector-general. The assessment he made of a one-week camp held by the 5th Brigade at Liverpool in November–December 1913 plunged him into trouble and became the lowest point in his peacetime career.

In his report, he condemned the lack of discipline, the control and proficiency of the officers, the supervision, filthy lines, poor rifle exercises, bad marching, dirty band instruments and the appearance of the men. He not only complained about the militia officers but also attacked the permanent staff as well. His comments on Major Laurence Molloy, the adjutant of the 14th Australian Infantry Regiment, seem to have been quite cruel, and were later described in an official enquiry as having been grossly unfair. Molloy had been a fellow officer with Antill in South Africa and, while perhaps not brilliant, was a solid old soldier. The report caused a storm. A court of inquiry was held to investigate the claims that Antill was harsh and tactless, and had intentionally persecuted certain officers. The inquiry concluded that parts of the report were indeed unjust, unfair, misleading, and not supported by evidence.

Attention turned to Antill. The Military Board decided that he should be called upon to show why his services should not be dispensed with. But this time the board had gone too far. Antill responded by questioning the qualifications of some members of the court, and sought to have the matter dealt with by court-martial. The inquiry only had the power to investigate the initial report and, on legal advice, it was decided not to proceed further. However, it was suggested that the matter be borne in mind in regard to Antill’s future employment. It was felt that he was unsuitable as an inspector for the inspector-general and his transfer to another state was ‘a matter for consideration’.¹¹

Antill’s severe attitude may have concealed his unsettled professional and private life. He had now held the same rank in the army for over a decade, and had seen several of his former peers, and some of his juniors, promoted over him. There was James Gordon Legge who, with Antill, had commanded a squadron of the mounted rifles in some of the important actions in South Africa, and whose career had run roughly parallel for a few years after the war. But by 1914, with the rank of colonel, he was appointed the chief of the general staff. There were other regular officers such as William Bridges, Brudenell White and Harry Chauvel who, like Antill, had been favoured by General Hutton’s interest and were now leading figures in the Australian army. To make matters worse, most of the militia officers with whom he had to deal had only a fraction of his knowledge and experience. Clearly his career had not fulfilled his earlier expectations. The truth was that, while he was an intelligent man, he was rigid in his thinking and did not possess the quickness of mind or the fertile brain of those whose promotions he coveted.

Antill disliked emotion and to all outsiders maintained a hard exterior. To his family he could display wit and charm, and as a raconteur ‘never hesitated to make a good story better’¹². Only those closest to him would ever know of his interest in gardening, and literature, and of his passion for the theatre. The other side of his character was briefly revealed in an incident on Gallipoli in which he came across Sergeant Otto Hewett, a member of his brigade, doing a landscape drawing. Knowing Antill’s reputation, the soldier said he saw trouble looming and was not surprised when he was told to report to headquarters. He was relieved to find that the brigade major had admired his work and wanted him to do some panoramic sketches.¹³ Hewett was given the opportunity to produce more drawings and some of these eventually appeared in The Anzac Book, a soldiers’ publication devised and edited by Charles Bean on Gallipoli. The use of Hewitt as an artist predated the appointment of official war artists in later campaigns.

With men Antill was usually severe and uncompromising, but with women he could be passionate and foolish. He had married in 1901 despite opposition from both parties’ families. The union, which produced two of his daughters, was not a success, ending in divorce in 1914. He was involved with other women and his ‘love intrigue’ with a young Sydney actress was described by Edmond Samuels in his autobiography. The writer was a Sydney pharmacist who shared Antill’s interest in the theatre and was an officer in the militia when they met at Victoria Barracks in Sydney. Samuels once conveyed a message from the actress, an occasion he later recalled: ‘I was aware that I was facing a man who had the nickname of “Bull Antill” on account of his severe military bearing and manner.’ He eventually got to know Antill better: ‘Despite his outward show of being a hard disciplinarian, he had many qualities I admired.’¹⁴

Antill’s behaviour over the Liverpool camp incident had almost destroyed his career. It was a bleak period and it coincided with the collapse of his marriage. It is likely that the two events were connected. Antill and his wife had been spending increasingly lengthy periods of time apart. Marion was much younger, pretty rather than beautiful, lively, and from a wealthy family. She was not one to be bullied or cowered by his bluster. Finally, after a decade of married life, she declared that she was a young woman, was fond of life and excitement and preferred to live in the city.¹⁵ In 1912 she took their eldest daughter, aged 10, and walked out; soon afterwards she went to live independently in London. Antill was flattened.

Marion refused her husband’s pleas to return, and eventually, even as the Liverpool affair broke around him, he reluctantly began divorce proceedings: ‘I was at a dead end and notwithstanding the odium of it all, the wretched publicity and all, no other course was open to me.’¹⁶ Added to his military worries, he found the scandal over his divorce also affected how he was regarded within his social circles. Similar ugly tattle would visit him again a decade on when he was named a co-respondent in a widely reported Adelaide divorce case.

The controversy surrounding the Liverpool camp affair continued into 1914, and its shadow was still hanging heavily over Antill when the war began. His early reputation had been won as a fighting officer, and he now thrilled at the prospect of being rid of peacetime soldiering and going off to war again. With the forming of the AIF, he was soon ‘straining every nerve to get away in some capacity’.¹⁷

In better times he might have hoped to be given a command. Instead, he was made enrolment officer for the AIF in Sydney, responsible for selecting the New South Wales men for the first contingent. The Sydney Mail published a short article on his duties, which was accompanied by a photograph of him that must have been at least 10 years old as it showed him still with a dark Victorian moustache. ‘No one is better qualified than he for this important work,’ it said. ‘He can tell almost at a glance what a man is made of, and his long experience as a soldier is of immense value to him in making the selection of the men who are to represent Australia at the front.’¹⁸ This proclaimed ability to be able to judge a man ‘almost at a glance’ should have come under some question after the Liverpool incident. Further doubt must have been created when a willing young volunteer of German-born parents was enlisted after Antill had opposed his being accepted.¹⁹

Eventually, as the AIF grew and more officers were needed, his experience could no longer be ignored. Antill’s appointment to the 3rd Light Horse Brigade had been decided by a selection committee. Although he was very senior for such a position, it may have been felt that this tough professional might cover up some deficiencies that Colonel Frederic Hughes’ age might reveal. It also seems that the appointment to a brigade outside of Antill’s home state was in line with the suggestion made by the Military Board that his transfer to another military district be considered.

Although he probably had no say in the matter of Antill’s appointment, Hughes had no reason to be personally concerned. Whatever the brigade major’s relations were with his subordinates, it seems that it was part of his authoritarian nature to serve his superiors well and to seek their approbation.