the moment consisted only of headquarters, having no divisions, and this gave its commander a good deal more leisure than he had been recently enjoying' (1, 295). Fate, sheer bad luck, circumstances, are all invoked to explain this enforced leisure. The explanation is much simpler. Sir Douglas Haig and Sir William Robertson were the immediate powers, and both in time paid heavily for their interference with this favourite son of the gods. He had powerful friends who warned him in time. A Cabinet minister informed Duncannon, who in turn told Wilson, how nearly I was dégommé after May 21, and how I was saved by Charlie Monro putting in a tremendous report in my favour' (1, 292). Few soldiers are great enough to make such a confession.

But the period of military reverses, humiliation, and leisure held compensations. When Sir John French left the Field, the French military representative, General Huguet, captured his highly efficient chef and forwarded him to Wilson (1, 276), who installed him first at Labussière, and finally at Ranchicourt in that delightful château in the fine park by the trout stream. Few days there were on which there were no guests at luncheon or dinner, or at both.' A partial list includes Clemenceau, Robertson, Foch, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Haig, Kigg, Reading, Lloyd George, Sir A. Lee, Castelnau. The breakfast for Clemenceau was 'sumptuous: porridge, kippers, bacon, eggs, strawberries, cream.' Fortunately for Sir Henry Wilson at this moment, Lloyd George and Sir Douglas Haig reached the same conclusion, although by different routes. Lloyd George thought it was ridiculous his still commanding a corps, reporting to Haig that he had raided trenches, "and taken two prisoners (1, 300). Haig's opinion of his fitness to command a corps was equally clear when he found himself high and dry without troops to command. As a result he was sent on a wild-goose chase to Russia. The mission ended in failure. The Emperor and Empress made it quite clear that they would not tolerate any discussion of Russian internal policies (1, 315), and General Gourko, 'that vain talkative devil,' interfered on the military side (1, 321).

6

This was the moment also when the French Government was dissolving, the High Command in confusion,

and General Nivelle marching to his doom. Sir Douglas Haig found contact difficult, and sincerely thought Wilson might be of some assistance as liaison officer at Chantilly. He, if any, was fitted for the task of composing the French mind. He spoke their language. For ten years he had been in confidential relation with all the conflicting generals. He liked the French, and they liked him. He was not an Englishman. They opened their hearts to him. Foch was intimately playful; he always called him Henri; and in time his more assiduous English friends learned to address him as 'Onri, because he liked it. His satisfaction was complete when he was adopted as a Frenchman by General Nivelle who spoke to him in the utmost confidence against Pétain, 'adding that luckily there were no foreigners in the room-for which I thanked him, for it really was a charming remark.' General Castelnau also was very open, though he said he would not speak to any other Englishman alive like that except to me. He thinks the English are amazingly slow in helping in men and ammunition, and cautious to a degree in action' (1, 232). General Joffre at dinner in his own headquarters at Chantilly on March 23, 1915, said in rather a loud voice, "Eh bien, votre chef est assomnant." Joffre was mistaken in his strategy, but he could not be mistaken in his French. If he used any such word it might have been assommant which would mean in the jargon of the day, "Your chief is a dud"' (1, 216). But Wilson never flinched. Later in the evening 'came a strong attack upon Sir John French. I told him to give us orders, but without appearing to do so, to refer to Sir John's loyalty, and to leave the rest to his good heart-and me' (1, 217).

That stern moralist, Sir Almeric Fitzroy, met Wilson and Rawlinson in the Traveller's Club at the time when Rawlinson was about to replace Wilson at Versailles. He congratulated Rawlinson, but allowed that it was a position requiring more suppleness than was perhaps usual in men of the British race, whereupon Wilson grasped my arm and asked me what I meant by the term' (II, 71). More specifically. An intimate friend of his has written, "In London, he was a black Ulsterman, and anti-papist; in Belfast he preached moderation

6

(II, 337). This clue 'suppleness' is worth following as a guide towards his success with the French as well as to the height of splendour which he achieved, taking the term 'in its most complimentary sense,' as Sir Almeric assured him he did. When Colonel Wilson was intermediary between Sir John French and General Joffre the liaison was difficult, and demanded the utmost of his skill. In a conversation between him and General Lanrezac of the Fifth Army-that is, if the term can be applied to a sequence of utterances which neither understood at Rethel on Aug. 17, 1914, an officer who was present reports (1, 164), that 'the conference ended with the usual compliments and bowings and hand-shaking.' This happy issue was the result of Wilson's adroitness in translating not what was said but what he imagined should be said. Again, at a conference between Joffre and French at Brias on May 12, 1914, 'both were getting hot.' Joffre made a remark which luckily Sir John did not catch, and I got the chance of interpreting wrong' (1, 227). To deceive the enemy is a principle of warfare: how far one is justified in deceiving one's own superior officer, even with the best of intentions, is a delicate matter to decide. After Nivelle's disaster, Wilson's position in France was untenable. It was Foch who told him that Pétain would not have him at general headquarters. He heard elsewhere that Painlevé was accusing him of having tried to take charge of the French Government (1, 361). What a scurvy crowd' (1, 333) he thought them; but, to be quite impartial, only two weeks earlier he thought his own 'Admiralty and War Office a set of d-fools.'

This period of liaison lasted only three months. Therefore, in June 1917, Sir Henry Wilson found himself back in London in the ranks of the unemployed soldier, an invidious place for a soldier in time of war, who is physically capable of carrying a bayonet. It seems a little hard,' he writes, 'in order to suit other people, to drop from 3000 pounds a year to six hundred' (II, 3). Now appears a dangerous side of his nature. Four times on two successive pages (II, 2, 3) he affirms his liability to make 'mischief.' An unemployed soldier of high rank has marvellous skill in making a place for himself and building up a business. Sir Henry Wilson

found his first opening in a talk with General Smuts (II, 7). He entirely agreed with Wilson's contention that there ought to be a body composed of three soldiers, English, French, and Italian, with suitable staffs and full knowledge, who would be empowered to draw up plans of attack and defence along the whole line from Nieuport to Egypt. Smuts, however, declared that Wilson should be the English soldier.' A meeting was arranged with Lloyd George. Wilson unfolded the plan which he said he had had in mind for two and a half years. It was not aimed at Robertson, Haig, or anybody.' Lloyd George 'was distinctly taken. He ordered me to see Milner and Bonar Law. I demurred, but he said that he wished it' (II, 10). Milner, Bonar Law, and Carson highly approved.

told Foch we until we got (II, 14). The

In the meantime, Wilson took over the Eastern Command. The arrangement suited him well; the pay was a consideration; he was able to reside at his house in Eaton Place; being stationed in London enabled him to keep in touch with his friends in the Cabinet, his friends at the War Office, and his friends in Parliament.' Foch came to see him, and he should never have any plan worth a d my superior War Council. He agreed' Supreme War Council was constituted at Rapallo on Nov. 7, 1917; the first meeting was held the following day; the British members were Lloyd George, Milner, Wilson. When Wilson returned to Paris, he found that Clemenceau was not much interested, but he pushed him about.' The question of unity of command arose, and Clemenceau said he meant that only two men should run the whole thing, himself and me' (II, 31). The scheme broke down at the first touch of reality, which concerned the extent of line to be taken over by the British, for this Supreme War Council at Versailles had forgotten the existence of Sir Douglas Haig. He refused to accept further responsibility at the risk of disaster, as he had already taken over several miles of front from the French on either side of the Oise.

The only other matter of importance that ever came before the Supreme War Council was Wilson's scheme for a Central Reserve. The first mention of the scheme is in a long talk with Robertson' on Jan. 10, 1918 (II, 50), to whom he made the 'proposal for keeping a

certain number of divisions away from Haig and Pétain, and which those men could only draw on with the permission of Versailles, or of Robertson and Foch.' Next day, he presented the proposal to Clemenceau, ' which, he said, meant "under Wilson "-to which I agreed.' On Feb. 1, there was a great fight' over the Reserve; Robertson fought'; Wilson 'wrote notes for Lloyd George.' Next day the Reserve was 'adopted unanimously, and so the long duel between me and Robertson has ended in his complete defeat. Robertson fought to the last, but was badly beaten. Robertson was overruled about the 1918 campaign, and squarely beaten over the question of the General Reserve. This really was a triumph.' Then comes the sinister question-'I wonder will he resign?' (II, 57). It was not really such a triumph after all. The Supreme War Council again forgot the existence of Sir Douglas Haig. He said in effect that he had no objection to a General Reserve. Versailles was free to create such a body if they could find the material. He was equally definite that they would get no troops from him. He would keep his own reserves. He said quite plainly to Clemenceau that he would not hand over any of his divisions to the General Reserve. He would resign first, which Clemenceau 'thinks would be a disaster at this juncture.' It will be observed that this farce was concluded on March 17, 1918, only four days before Sir Douglas Haig was employing those reserves he had refused to surrender, in his desperate and successful struggle to meet the supreme and final onslaught of the enemy. But the conduct of the Versailles Council, farcical as it was, brought a revelation to Sir Douglas Haig. In that light, he accepted Marshal Foch as a virtual generalissimo, so that his own original strategy should not be destroyed. Lord Milner leaves it on record that Sir Douglas in that moment of self-abnegation unparalleled in military history declared, 'I can deal with a man, not with a committee.' Authority lay in London, and Lloyd George, in chagrin over the fiasco, resolved to give that authority to Wilson and send Robertson to Versailles. Wilson preferred to remain at Versailles, provided Lloyd George gave him more power at Versailles and reduce Robertson from the position of a master to that of a