Letters from the Front

By A. G. Hales

Special Correspondent of the "Daily News"

Cassell and Company, Limited

London, Paris, New York & Melbourne, 1901

Dedication.

This book, such as it is, is dedicated to the man whose kindliness of heart

and generous journalistic instincts lifted me from the unknown, and placed

me where I had a chance to battle with the best men in my profession. He

was the man who found Archibald Forbes, the most brilliant, accurate, and

entertaining of all war correspondents. What he did for that splendid

genius let Forbes' memoirs tell; what he did for me I will tell myself. He

gave me the chance I had looked for for twenty years, and the dearest name

in my memory to-day is the name of

SIR JOHN ROBINSON,

Manager of the Daily News, London.

Contents

WITH THE AUSTRALIANS.

AUSTRALIA ON THE MARCH

WITH THE AUSTRALIANS

A PRISONER OF WAR

"STOPPING A FEW"

AUSTRALIA AT THE WAR

AUSTRALIA ON THE MOVE

SLINGERSFONTEIN

THE WEST AUSTRALIANS

 

AMONG THE BOERS.

IN A BOER TOWN

BEHIND THE SCENES

A BOER FIGHTING LAAGER

THROUGH BOER GLASSES

LIFE IN THE BOER CAMPS

 

WITH GENERAL RUNDLE.

BATTLE OF CONSTANTIA FARM

WITH RUNDLE IN THE FREE STATE

RED WAR WITH RUNDLE

THE FREE STATERS' LAST STAND

 

CHARACTER SKETCHES IN CAMP.

THE CAMP LIAR

THE NIGGER SERVANT

THE SOLDIER PREACHER

 

PRESIDENT STEYN

LOUIS BOTHA, COMMANDANT-GENERAL OF THE BOER ARMY

WHITE FLAG TREACHERY

THE BATTLE OF MAGERSFONTEIN

SCOUTS AND SCOUTING: DRISCOLL, KING OF SCOUTS

HUNTING AND HUNTED

WITH THE BASUTOS

MAGERSFONTEIN AVENGED

THE CONDUCT OF THE WAR

HOME AGAIN

Australia's Appeal to England.

We grow weary waiting, England,

For the summons that never comes--

For the blast of the British bugles

And the throb of the British drums.

Our hearts grow sore and sullen

As year by year rolls by,

And your cold, contemptuous actions

Give your fervent words the lie.

 

Are we only an English market,

Held dear for the sake of trade?

Or are we a part of the Empire,

Close welded as hilt and blade?

If we are to cleave together

As mother and son through life,

Give us our share of the burden,

Let us stand with you in the strife.

 

If we are to share your glory,

Let the sons whom the South has bred

Lie side by side on your battlefields

With England's heroes dead.

A nation is never a nation

Worthy of pride or place

Till the mothers have sent their firstborn

To look death on the field in the face.

 

Are we only an English market,

Held dear for the sake of trade?

Or are we a part of the Empire

Close welded as hilt and blade?

If so, let us share your dangers,

Let the glory we boast be real,

Let the boys of the South fight with you,

Let our children taste cold steel.

 

Do you think we are chicken-hearted?

Do you count us devoid of pride?

Just try us in deadly earnest,

And see how our boys can ride.

We are sick of your empty praises!

If the mother is proud of her son,

Let him do some deed on a hard-fought field,

Then boast what he has done.

 

A nation is never a nation

Worthy of pride or place

Till the mothers have sent their firstborn

To look death on the field in the face.

Australia is calling to England,

Let England answer the call;

There are smiles for those who come back to us,

And tears for those who may fall.

 

Bridle to bridle our sons will ride

With the best that Britain has bred,

And all we ask is an open field

And a soldier's grave for our dead.

 

I have decided to enclose these verses in my book because some critics have pronounced me anti-English in my sentiments. Heaven alone knows why; yet the above poem was written and published by me in Australia just before war was declared between England and the Republics, at a time when all Australia considered it very probable that we should have to fight one of the big European Powers as well as the Boers.

A. G. HALES.