Appendix A
What Happened to Old …?
‘How softly but how swiftly they have sidled back to power by the favour and contrivance of their kind.’
(Rudyard Kipling, Mesopotamia, 11 July 1917)
Tens of thousands of people played a part in the desert campaign between September 1914 and April 1916. The overwhelming majority did as they were bidden, and many paid with their lives. Apart from Charles Townshend, none of those who ordered affairs in Mesopotamia were ever at any physical risk.
It would be appropriate to tie up some loose ends and determine just what effect, if any, the MC Report had on some of the main players.
* * *
Austen Chamberlain KG
Secretary of State for India, 25 May 1915–17 July 1917
His resignation raised his profile, attracted many plaudits for his high principles and did him no harm at all. He was quickly back at the centre of public life. Chamberlain, possibly the least culpable of those censured, was guilty of being misled. His resignation brought a wave of support and his principled action added to his reputation. The India Office was no great loss and, although out of high office, he was quickly reemployed. He became Chancellor of the Exchequer in 1919, a post he held until 1921, by which time he was the leader of the Conservative Party and Lord Privy Seal.
His career flourished and in 1924 he became Foreign Secretary. In this post he excelled, and his skilled negotiations in 1925 established the ‘Locarno Pact’. In an effort to maintain the post-war status quo in the West, Chamberlain was prepared to assist the German Foreign Minister in seeking a British guarantee of Germany’s western borders.
Chamberlain actively supported the cause of Franco-German reconciliation and his aim was to create a situation where Germany could pursue its territorial revisionism in Eastern Europe ‘peacefully’. Chamberlain believed that if Franco–German relations improved, France would abandon its cordon sanitaire, and as soon as France had traded off its relations with eastern allies, closer relations with Germany would be the beneficial result, although Poland and Czechoslovakia would be obliged to adjust to German demands.
With hindsight it is glaringly obvious that this was an incredibly dangerous policy, depending as it did on German goodwill in which, we now know, that nation was manifestly hugely deficient. Chamberlain, by his actions, was a contributory factor to the outbreak of the Second World War.
His success in driving through this flawed plan resulted in his being awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. In addition, he was created a Knight of the Order of the Garter.
Chamberlain died on 17 March 1937, aged seventy-three, just as the German war machine was limbering up. Less than three months later, his half-brother Neville became Prime Minister and fell victim to that war machine, in part, created by Austen.
* * *
General Sir Beauchamp Duff GCB GCSI KCVO CIE KStJ
Commander-in-Chief of the Indian Army, 8 March 1914, replaced in June 1917
Duff may have ignored the Army Council, but the censure of the MC and the accusation that he (and Hardinge) ‘showed little desire to help and some desire actually to obstruct the energetic prosecution of the war’ caused him distress. He was, for practical purposes, removed from his post as soon as he returned to the UK to give evidence to the MC. He was, of course, at the time the incumbent Commander-in-Chief of the Indian Army and a person of considerable substance. The indignity added to his pain and apparently he was the one individual to be filled with remorse. He was found dead in his bed on 20 January 1920. Allegedly, he had committed suicide by taking an overdose. He was sixty-two.
* * *
Lieutenant General Sir John Nixon GCMG KCB
Commander, Indian Expeditionary Force ‘F’, 1 April 1915–19 January 1916
Although Nixon was censured by the MC and later exonerated by the Army Council, he was nevertheless removed from the active list of the Army and retired in late 1918. In 1975, Nixon attracted the attention of Norman Dixon, who coupled Nixon’s name with others when he wrote of a group:
whose besetting sin was overweening ambition coupled with terrifying insensitivity to the suffering of others. These men like Haig, Townshend, Walpole, Nixon and Joffre seemed dedicated to one goal – selfadvancement. Vain, devious, scheming and dishonest, they were certainly not inactive in the courses they pursued, nor, of course, were they without military talents.309
Be that as it may, the following year Nixon was decorated as Knight Grand Cross of the order of St Michael and St George (GCMG). This is a very high honour and its award to Nixon was a powerful indication of his absolution by His Majesty’s Government.
In 1921, Nixon and his wife went to the Côte d’Azur to spend the winter. On 15 December, Nixon died at St Raphael, aged sixty-four. His career had been exemplary until those fateful few months (April 1915–January 1916) in which he commanded in Mesopotamia.
* * *
Lieutenant Sir Edmund Barrow GCB KCMG
Military Secretary to the India Office, 1914–1917
He was sixty-two when he took up the job of Military Secretary to the India Office. After his censure by the MC in 1917, he moved smoothly on and was appointed to be a member of the autocratic Council of India. He retired in 1919 and died in 1934.
* * *
Lieutenant General Sir William Babtie VC KCB KCMG
Director, Medical Services India, 22 March 1914–5 June 1915 Principal Director, Army Medical Services, Mediterranean, 15 June 1915–10 March 1916
He was an officer whose personal qualities were never in doubt, but the MC questioned his competence. In September 1917, he provided the written explanation demanded of him. Then he too moved smoothly onward. On 1 March 1918, he was promoted to lieutenant general and appointed Inspector of Medical Services. The following year he was decorated as Knight Commander of the Order of the Bath (KCB) but he did not have long to enjoy his enhanced status because he died on 11 September 1920, aged sixty.
* * *
Major General Harold G. Hathaway CB
Principal Medical Officer Mesopotamia, April 1915 to about 6 July 1916
Hathaway was obviously over-promoted and out of his depth, but it took time for his inadequacy to be noted. He was ‘mentioned in despatches’ for his services up to September 1915 and the taking of Kut. This was not gazetted until 4 April 1916, by which time the dire medical situation in Mesopotamia was well reported. On 6 July 1916, after a month’s sick leave, he was posted ‘home’, and that implies back to the UK.
On 24 February 1917, his name was ‘brought to the notice of the Secretary of State for War for valuable services rendered in connection with the war’. The Army Council gave thought to his ‘explanation’ on 20 March 1918, and barely two weeks later, on 7 April, his retirement was recorded. Hathaway, who had been born on 30 June 1860, enjoyed a lengthy retirement until his death on 3 September 1942, aged eighty-two.310 No photograph of Hathaway could be found.
* * *
Major General Sir Charles Townshend KCB DSO
GOC 6th (Poona) Division, Indian Army, 23rd April 1915–29 April 1916
After the surrender of Kut, it was thought that, had Townshend insisted that he and his officers would stay with their men, some of the horrors of the ensuing death march would have been avoided. However, marching 1,000 miles with his men was not on Charlie’s agenda and, from April 1916, Charles Townshend went into very comfortable captivity.
He was the recipient of guards of honour and a pleasing degree of Turkish adulation. Enver Pasha, the Turkish War Minister, who knew full well the conditions his people were inflicting on their prisoners, condoned it. He was an unmitigated swine, and Townshend had the opportunity to influence him when he visited, but failed to do so.
Charles Townshend lived in considerable style in a handsome house on the island of Halki. He was comfortable in captivity and was able to swim and walk about the island at will. Once settled, Townshend started to lobby the British Government to allow his wife to join him in ‘captivity’. The Turks had no objection but H.H. Asquith wrote to Mrs Townshend on 1 August 1916311 refusing permission.
Charlie’s next ploy was to ask the Turks to give him parole so that he could go and live quietly in Spain. This approach came to nothing but it had afforded Charlie the chance to partake of generous lunches during the negotiations.
As winter approached, Townshend and his entourage were moved to Prinkipo, a larger island with a more sheltered aspect. The new prison was the former home of the British Consul; ‘It looked like a country vicarage with a charming garden,’ reported Errol Sherson, his cousin and the first of his biographers.
The bad news was that, back in England, the Marchioness of Townshend, despite eleven years of childless marriage to the 6th Marquess, had given birth to a son. This small boy would be the 7th Marquess and Charles Townshend would now never be Lord Townshend – he was not going to be a lieutenant general soon either.
In October 1916, his disappointment was slightly ameliorated when he was notified that he had been promoted to Knight Commander of the Order of the Bath (KCB). With marked lack of grace, he grunted at Boggis that it was ‘not before time’, adding, ‘I don’t suppose anyone will begrudge me my KCB after thirty-five years’ service in nine campaigns and nine mentions in despatches. It has not been awarded too soon.’312
It has to be said that, based on his record of success, he could reasonably have expected to be decorated back in September 1915, after he took Kut. Townshend’s regular contact with senior Turks and the manner in which they entertained him started to affect the setting of his moral compass, and increasingly he identified with the Turkish cause. An amateur psychologist might wonder if he was an early example of the ‘Stockholm syndrome’.313
As the war ran to its end, Townshend sought to play a part in the peace negotiations. He was rejected by HMG. Similarly, on his return to the UK, via Paris, where he spent time with his wife, he was invited coldly to explain, ‘in writing’, why he had given an unauthorised press conference to The Times.
73. The Prime Minister’s reply to Mrs Townshend. (A.J. Barker)
74. Townshend in captivity with his personal staff. From the left. LCpl J. Boggis, Tewfic Bey (Turkish ADC) General Townshend, Captain Morland ADC. (Braddon)
Townshend lobbied for further employment but had by now attracted the disfavour of Field Marshals Haig and Robertson. To be held in low esteem by one field marshal would be career limiting, but the disfavour of two is terminal. To cap that degree of disfavour, the icing on the career cake was when King George V expressed the view that Charles Townshend should have stayed with his men.
Townshend wrote his book My Campaign in Mesopotamia, which was published in February 1920. It did him no good and was seen as an apologia.
He stood for election to the House of Commons when the member for The Wrekin died suddenly; his retirement was brought forward three months to allow him to stand. Townshend was duly elected as MP for The Wrekin in 1921, but he was not a successful politician. He spoke rarely and then only on military topics. He was in the company of men who were his intellectual equal or superior, with a wider experience of worldly matters. Nevertheless, he entertained ambitions to be the ambassador to Turkey and meddled in the affairs of that part of the world, to the intense irritation of the Foreign Office.
In October 1922, there was a general election and Townshend sought a seat closer to the family home in Norfolk. He was distracted by his only daughter’s wedding, failed to find a seat and his political career spluttered to a close.
It is alleged that General Mellis had sought to have Townshend indicted for neglecting his soldiers. That sounds entirely likely but no evidence has been found to substantiate the claim. Townshend spent more time in Paris and, after a good lunch at The Ritz on 17 May 1924, he was taken ill. He died just before midnight on that day.
He is buried at East Raynham in Norfolk. His grave bears a simple, lichen-covered slab, upon which is engraved ‘Townshend of Kut’. Mellis, Delamain et al were notably absent from the funeral. The obituaries were muted. The Times implied, accurately as it happened, that he was a seeker after glory. The Daily Telegraph carried a more generous obituary by Colonel Repington, but even he commented adversely on the separation of the officers and men after the surrender of Kut.
* * *
Lieutenant General Sir George Gorringe KCB KCMG DSO
GOC 12th Indian Division, April 1915–29 January 1916
Chief of Staff, Tigris Corps, 30 January 1916–12 March 1916
Commander, Tigris Corps, 12 March 1916 – ?? July 1916
Gorringe was a direct contemporary of Townshend but did not share the gregarious nature of Charlie. He is described in negative terms by all contemporary sources. ‘Bully’, ‘rude’, ‘aggressive’ and ‘domineering’ are usually the words used. He was not popular at any level.
In Cockney rhyming slang, he was known as ‘bloody orange’.314 He was an officer who demonstrated little innovative flair and formations under his command suffered high casualty rates. He was removed from command of the Tigris Corps in July 1916, but went on (as major general) to command 47th Division in France, a post he held until March 1919.
During his period with 47th Division, his chief of staff, the senior of his staff officers, was Lieutenant Colonel B.L. Montgomery, Royal Warwickshire Regiment, who said later of Gorringe, ‘All the corps commanders under whom he served were junior to him in service but he was very unpopular and Haig would not give him a corps.’
The influence of the bachelor general on the aspiring Montgomery was considerable, and as the GOC liked and trusted his 30-year-old Chief of Staff, so he delegated enormous responsibility to him, ‘Thus despite his young age Monty now assumed complete responsibility, under General Gorringe, for the running of a division – involving 15,000 troops including infantry, machine gunners, field gunners, heavy artillery, tanks, engineers and cavalrymen.’315
Montgomery was a bombastic and unpleasant man; to what extent he took his cue from Gorringe, one can only surmise.
Post-war, Gorringe commanded the 10th Division in Egypt. In 1921, he was promoted to lieutenant general and retired in 1924. He went to live and farm near Shoreham-by-Sea, and died there, aged seventy-seven, on 24 October 1945, having lived to see the accomplishments of his protégé.
* * *
Lieutenant General Sir Walter Delamain KCB KCMG DSO
Commander, 16th Brigade Indian Army, 27 September 1914–29 April 1916
Delamain survived his capture at Kut. After his release he was given command of a division and was subsequently promoted to lieutenant general in April 1920. In that rank he served as Adjutant General of the Indian Army until his retirement in March 1923. Delamain died in 1932.
* * *
Lieutenant General Sir Fenton Aylmer VC KCB, 13th Baronet of Donadea
Commander, the Tigris Corps, 10th December 1915–12 March 1916
Aylmer was a contemporary of Townshend and, like so many others mentioned in this book, had served in the relief of Chitrál. He was a brave man but by most accounts a weak personality who was dominated by Nixon for the first critical five weeks of his command of the Tigris Corps. It was Nixon who made all the strategic decisions, but also greatly influenced the tactical battle from 9 December 1915 until he left the theatre in mid-January 1916. General Lake, who replaced Nixon, was similarly assertive and Aylmer found himself fighting battles with plans not of his making.
He was relieved of command and replaced by Gorringe. When he gave his evidence to the MC, he emphasised that on operations all of his plans had been overruled. He retired from the Army in 1919, having conducted himself with admirable dignity. Fenton Aylmer died in Wimbledon, Surrey, on 3 September 1935, aged seventy-three.
* * *
Major General Sir Charles Mellis VC KCB KCMG
GOC 6th Indian Division at the Battle of Shaiba, 12–14 April 1915, Commander of the Cavalry column at the Battle of Ctesiphon and, thereafter, 30 Brigade
Mellis was the very epitome of the soldier’s general. He was as brave as a lion and his soldiers venerated him. The enemy, too, held him in great respect.
He was captured at Kut but was in poor health, so he travelled upriver to Baghdad by steamship. From choice he would have remained with his men, but his health in the short term precluded that. However, as soon as he recovered, he joined the survivors of the dreadful march as they trudged towards Anatolia.
He was given assistance and rather better rations on his journey, but was enraged by the plight of his soldiers he encountered on the march. Mellis collected up survivors and berated the Turkish guards on behalf of his men. He insisted that some men be accommodated in hospitals.
He was a tower of strength and an inspiration to all who saw him. Charles Mellis was eventually imprisoned at Broussa, in north-west Anatolia, and, while there, continued to be a thorn in the side to the Turks and Enver Pasha, the War Minister, in particular.
After his release, he returned to the Indian Army, from which he retired on 24 February 1920. He died on 6 June 1936, aged seventy-six, and is buried in St Peter’s Churchyard, Frimley, Surrey.
* * *
Charles Hardinge, 1st Baron Hardinge of Penshurst KG GCB GCSI GCMG GCVO ISO PC
Viceroy of India, 1910–1916, Permanent Secretary, the Foreign Office, 1916–1920, Ambassador to France, 1920–1922
Charles Hardinge is, arguably, the most highly decorated British subject and, on the basis of government approbation over many years, must surely be considered to be the most capable and talented public servant ever. Lord Mountbatten, an assiduous collector of ‘honours’, pales into insignificance in comparison.
Hardinge had been lionised throughout his distinguished career. It was three years after his death, in 1944, that his autobiography was published. In this book, Hardinge devoted a little over two pages to the Mesopotamia Commission. In his text he listed the membership of that commission and then commented in these words:
It should be observed that not one of these gentlemen had ever been to India except General Lyttelton when a subaltern, nor had any of them any knowledge of Indian administration except Lord Hamilton, who had, many years earlier, been Secretary of State for India.
The Report when published was regarded by all those who knew anything of Indian affairs as unfair and narrow-minded, and as a travesty of fact and justice … while 132 pages of closely printed matter was given to the Report, only eight lines were given to the dangerous and anxious situation in the interior of India and on the frontier, after India had sent no less than 300,000 troops across the seas to France, Egypt, China, and East Africa.
Everybody was blamed all round, beginning with Austen Chamberlain and myself and ending with many distinguished military officers. To achieve this end important official telegrams bearing on the issue were omitted and some mutilated, while private letters were turned to mean the reverse of what was intended and important portions omitted. It was really an inexplicable performance.316
Thirty years after the event, in 1947, the MC was no more than a footnote to history, and Hardinge was too. He could not be challenged. From beyond the grave he went on to say that after the publication of the Report he tendered his resignation, on 30 June 1917, to Balfour, the Foreign Secretary and his superior. Balfour ‘refused to accept it’. He referred to his statement to the House of Lords on 3 July and recorded that, ‘It was enthusiastically received in India and received commendation from the moderate opinion in the Press and elsewhere.’ That is an overstatement not borne out by the headlines of the day.
It appears that although Hardinge had the support of Balfour, he did not enjoy the same degree of approbation from Lloyd George, the Prime Minister. Hardinge recalled the sequence of events and wrote:
It was on 9 July that Lord Curzon came to see me at the Foreign Office and told me at some length that, as an old friend, he was the bearer of a message from the War Cabinet to the effect that the Government would not ask me to resign but they made the suggestion to me to do so in order to ‘ease the situation and to avoid hostile criticism of the Foreign Office in the future which my position there might provoke.’317
He spoke without interruption for about twenty minutes while I was growing angrier every minute. When he stopped, I let fly and told him that his action was hardly that which could be described as that of a friend when he came as an emissary of a craven cabinet to ask me to ‘ease the situation’ for them.
Hardinge drew Curzon’s attention to his thirty-seven years of exemplary public service at the highest levels and, by his account, lambasted Curzon to such effect that, ‘he slunk from my room like a whipped hound.’ It is worth noting that Curzon had an unfortunate manner at the best of times, with an unusual capacity to spread discord, and was not the best choice of an emissary. The meeting between the two men was unlikely to be amiable, and although Curzon and Hardinge had once been close associates, they had not been friends for a decade or more.
Following this meeting, Harding wrote another letter of resignation, which was in Balfour’s hands on 11 July. Balfour’s speech in the House of Commons on the 12th clearly rejected the gesture.
About a week later, Hardinge realised that Balfour was putting himself at risk by defending him. By his account, he selflessly and in the public good offered his resignation a third time, pending the verdict of a judicial tribunal. The War Cabinet considered a statement to this effect, written by Balfour, in which he said that Hardinge ‘could not devote his whole energies to the work of his laborious and difficult office … until the result of the inquiry is known.’
The War Cabinet reconsidered its position and on 18 July, Bonar Law announced in the House that, ‘The Government has decided that it would be detrimental to the public interest if the Foreign Office were deprived, at the present juncture, of the services of Lord Hardinge.’
Hardinge noted, ‘Thus ended a very unpleasant interlude in my work but thanks to Mr Balfour’s chivalrous championship, I came out on top in the fight for my reputation, which was dearer to me than life.’ (Author’s italics) In his autobiography, Hardinge expresses no remorse for any of the tens of thousands of Indian Army soldiers killed in pursuit of his aims, and far from refuting the criticism of him, he merely ignores it. He emerges from the pages of his autobiography as an arrogant, vain, pompous and mean-minded person.
The freeing of Hardinge from blame now made it all the more difficult for HMG to deal with the military officers. Hardinge’s biographer, B.C. Busch, made the judgement that:
Hardinge had supported the parsimonious, pre-war attitude which served soldiers ill in Mesopotamia; he did not intervene effectively enough to cure the medical problems, he was blind to Duff’s faults; he failed to consult his council, and circumvented the meaning if not the law of India’s constitution. But his guilt was hardly the sort for which he could be tried and his contribution … far outweighed his faults in listening too willingly to his military advisors.318
The final accolade for Hardinge was his appointment as Ambassador to France in November 1920. He served in Paris for two years but during this period he had to deal with the difficult Lord Curzon, who had urged his resignation in 1917. Anglo-French relations deteriorated to such a degree that he decided to retire to Kent in 1922. Unexpectedly, Lord Curzon wrote a generous valedictory letter to Hardinge on his retirement. The impact of the letter on the recipient was such that it was reproduced in his autobiography twenty-five years later.
He was a cold, reserved personality with a well-developed sense of self-worth, and had very few close friends. His work had been everything to him and, after his retirement, he never filled the gap in his later life. He served as a Special Constable during the General Strike of 1926 and revisited India at the invitation of Lord Irwin, the Viceroy, in 1933. He was a reclusive individual and in the twilight of his life he was lonely. He died on 2 August 1944 and is buried at Fordcombe, Kent.
Chapter notes
309 Dixon, N.E., On the Psychology of Military Incompetence, p.155.
310 From the service record of Major General Hathaway provided by Becks Skinner, Director, the Army Medical Services Museum, Ash Vale, Surrey.
311 Barker, A.J., Townshend of Kut, p.210.
312 Sherson, E., Townshend of Chitrál and Kut, p.337. Sherson’s italics.
313 Stockholm syndrome is not a medical term, but is a phenomenon in which captives begin to identify with their captors. At first this seems to be a defensive response generated by fear of violence. Insignificant acts of kindness by the captor are magnified out of proportion in the captive’s mind, not least because in a hostage situation the captive will have lost all sense of perspective. All the key factors appear to be in place to induce Stockholm syndrome in Sir Charles Townshend.
314 University of Birmingham for First World War Studies (General’s Nicknames).
315 Hamilton, N., The Full Monty, Allen Lane, London, 2002, p.117.
316 Hardinge, Lord, Old Diplomacy – The reminiscences of Lord Hardinge of Penshurst, J. Murray, London, 1947, p.215.
317 Hardinge incorporated a footnote, which said that he recorded the precise form of words used at this interview immediately after the meeting, p.216.
318 Busch, B.C., Hardinge of Penshurst, p.274.