ed both the national disaster and disgrace that took place after the “pleasant past” that you and I spent together in the Transvaal。
The Boers did not really want to fight； and we are always pusillanimous enough before we make up our minds to begin； so we did not want to fight either； but it appears that the Home Government did want to undo the annexation。 Nothing could have been done more easily； or have looked more gracious to those concerned。 Why not have plainly told me their wish and authorised me to carry it out？ We should have parted with embraces and the best of mutual good feeling； as it is we have earned the contempt as well as the hatred of the Boers； and very much puzzled the native races； who from considering us their staunchest and most powerful protectors have e to look upon us as the most unreliable of friends。 And very good cause they have for their change of view： look at the last twelve or fourteen years’ history of Zululand。 But I did not want to go into polemics。 As the Zulus would say； it is only my way of thinking。
I hope the good little wife and all the children are well； my love to her； please。 I was much interested the other day by an account of you all that appeared in the Strand Magazine； which someone sent me from England。 The pictures were； I thought； very good indeed； and reminded me strongly of my visit to Ditchingham； when I had the pleasure of spending a few days with you。
Please remember me kindly to all the members of your family。 They were all so extremely kind to me。
Yours affectionately；
T。 Shepstone。
These were his last words to me — words which； I think； will be read with interest in the future； seeing that they sum up his views of his Transvaal policy as he held them just before his death。 But I will not attempt to reopen that matter； upon which I have already said my say。
Vale； Sompseu； Vale！
I used to know a good many interesting people during those years when I lived in London。
Lord Goschen； then Mr。 Goschen； dined with me at a dinner I gave at the Savile Club； and we always remained friendly till his death。 He was a most able and agreeable man； also there was something rather attractive about the low； husky voice in which he addressed one； his head held slightly forward as though he wished to be very confidential。 Besides a number of literary men； Mr。 Balfour was my guest at that dinner； and I think Lord Lytton also。 I remember that it was a most pleasant feast； at which seventeen or eighteen people were present； and one that； to my great relief； went off without a hitch。
It was Lang who introduced me to Mr。 Balfour。 Of this circumstance I was reminded the other day when I met Sir Ian Hamilton； mander…inChief of the British forces in the Mediterranean stations； on the Orient liner Otway when I was returning from Egypt （April 1912）。 He asked me if I remembered a little dinner that Lang gave at the Oxford and Cambridge Club somewhere about 1886 or 1887； at which Balfour； he； and I were the only guests。 Then it all came back to me。 Lang asked me to meet Mr。 Balfour because he knew that already I wished to escape from novel…writing and re…enter the public service； a matter in which he thought Mr。 Balfour might be of assistance。 Ian Hamilton； his cousin； he asked because he had escaped from Majuba； and I also knew a great deal about Majuba。
By the way； General Hamilton； whom I had not met from that day to this； gave me； while we were on the ship together； a long and full account of his experiences and sufferings in that dreadful rout； but as these tally very closely with what I have written in this book and elsewhere； I will not repeat them in all their painful detail。 He was shot through the wrist and struck on the head with splinters of stone。 The Boers dismissed him； telling him that he would “probably die。” He passed a night in the cold； and； had it not been for a kindly Boer who found him and bound up his wrist — I think he said with a piece of tin for a splint — he would probably have perished。 That Boer； Sir Ian Hamilton — who； by the way； is now the only officer in the British Army who was present at Majuba — met at Bloemfontein the other day。 Naturally they were the best of friends； and Sir Ian has sent him a souvenir of the event。 Finally； as he lay unable to move； he was found by a British search…party and taken back to camp； where in due course he recovered。
I see that in “Cetywayo and his White Neighbours” I stated that Majuba was attacked by two or three hundred Boers； adding that I did not believe the story which the Boers told me； that they rushed the mountain with not more than a hundred men — a version which subsequently I adopted in “Jess。” Sir Ian told me； however； that the smaller figure was quite correct。 He even put it somewhat lower。 A dreadful story； in truth！
Talking of the Boer War reminds me of Sir Redvers Buller。 I knew him and his wife； Lady Audrey； very well。 We used to dine at their house； where we met a number of distinguished people； among whom I remember Lord Coleridge； the Chief Justice。 He was a brilliant conversationalist with a marvellous memory。 I have heard him tell story after story without stopping； till at length I began to hope that the stock was running low。 Sir Redvers was always very kind to me； but he was not a man to cross in argument。 Once； at his own table； I heard him differ from the late Lord Justice Bowen in a way that made me glad that I was not Lord Justice Bowen。 What struck me was the extraordinary patience with which the Judge submitted to the scolding。 He must have had a very sweet nature； indeed I always thought that this was so。
It was about this time that I first made the acquaintance of Mr。 Rudyard Kipling； who had recently arrived in England； I suppose from India。 He was then a young fellow about five…and…twenty； and in appearance and manner very much what he is today。 I cannot recall under what circumstance we first met。 Perhaps it was at a dinner…party I gave at my house； 24 Redcliffe Square； to some literary friends。 I remember that Kipling arrived late and explained the reason by pointing to a cut upon his temple。 Whilst he was driving towards my house his hansom collided with a van in Piccadilly； and there was a smash in which he had a narrow escape。 From that time forward we have always liked each other； perhaps because on many； though not on all； matters we find no point of difference。
Another man very well known in his day with whom I was acquainted was the great and acplished doctor； Sir Henry Thompson； by birth an East Anglian like myself。 Once I was present at one of his famous octave dinners。 If I remember right； we were received in a room hung round with beautiful pictures by Etty； as were others in the house。 It had a couch in it on which Sir Henry slept； or rather tried to sleep； at nights。 He suffered terribly from insomnia； and told me that one of his plans to induce slumber was to count thousands of imaginary sheep running through a phantom gate。 Also he would rise and walk about the streets to cause weariness。
A very interesting gentlemen whom I knew was the late Mr。 Meredith Townsend。 He was one of the editors and part owner of the Spectator； out of which journal he told me h