lot with the slave owners of the Southern States. It was in that critical hour he had first known George Odger, who then did a noble work. He remembered going with John Stuart Mill to a meeting at St. James' Hall, called by the Trades Unionists of London. Mr. Bright, who presided, made one of his most eloquent and powerful speeches. On leaving the meeting, which was one of the first Mr. Mill had attended for many years, he asked that gentleman whether he had not been struck with Mr. Bright's speech. Mr. Mill declared that it was such eloquence as he had never heard and never expected to hear again, but he went on to make this significant remark of one whose early education had been neglected: 'I never knew that the cause of the North could be put so forcibly till I heard the speech of that working-man '-meaning George Odger.

In that grave was laid one who had never forsaken a friend, who had never swerved from the truth, and whose life had been devoted with selfsacrificing devotion to protecting the interests of his fellow working-men and in adding to the happiness of his fellow countrymen.

Two years elapsed before the Testimonial Committee completed its labours, when the report stated that 1130l. 5s. itd. had been collected, amongst the donors being the proprietors of the Daily Telegraph, who gave 100l. Of this, 327l. 12s. 8d. had been expended in meeting the requirements of the family to the end of June, 1878, leaving a balance in the treasurer's hands of 802l. 12s. 5d., from which the widow was to receive 1l. 5s. per week.

Mr. P. A. Taylor, M.P., had agreed to hold the balance at good interest for the widow's benefit.

The committee also reported that the widow had authorised the trustees to take from the above small balance sufficient money wherewith to purchase a memorial stone. This instruction was executed forthwith, and inscribed upon the memorial is the following sentence, often used by Odger during his disinterested life:

The honour of our country has been the Pole Star' of my political life.

In this broad-minded expression is reflected the catholic nature of the man. He might have followed a custom which to-day is all too prevalent, and said our class.'

This he could not do because of his wider outlook, which recognised that the whole must always be greater than any part thereof, however large that part may be.

Many of the young fiery spirits around us to-day would do well to emulate the broad-mindedness of the shoemaker politician, George Odger. Our selection of him to fight the first contest was more than justified, and in Tennyson's lines at the forefront of this article his character is justly reflected.

F. W. SOUTTER.

WOUNDED

THE joy-bells for the great Cambrai victory had pealed and then suddenly sunk into silence, as though ashamed of their rioting, and waiting, half fearful lest their rejoicing had been too soon. Ill news travels apace, and rumours had already flown home that the great stroke had not been as successful as hoped.

We of the X Indian Cavalry Division had no active share in the first stages; we had moved up to our starting-off mark, and there were held straining at the leash waiting to be slipped; but the 'slip' never came.

Our splendid infantry, though they penetrated several miles deep into the Hindenburg line, failed to secure the crossings of the canal. Bitterly disappointed, and to the ironic tune of Backward Indian Cavalry, we returned once more to winter quarters.

Some ten days later, days spent in making one's horses, men and self snug in a battered Picardy village, orders came for our squadron of machine guns to move up to Hargicourt and relieve certain infantry machine gunners in the line.

It was usual on these occasions for all the guns with half the personnel to go into the line, while the other half remained behind to look after the horses. As I had been up on the last occasion, I was not detailed for this; but I asked permission to go up with the party and bring the horses back. Accordingly next morning I donned my best clothes and, armed with a crop, set forth under the leadership of one' Windy,' 1 whose name belies his courage.

1

We had nearly reached Roisel, when a despatch rider overtook us with orders to return at once to billets. This was somewhat unusual; but we stayed just long enough to water our horses and then turned their heads for home.

Hardly had we gone a quarter of a mile, when we saw the corps commander's car approaching. He stopped us and asked 'why the devil' we were going back when our division was coming up at the gallop, and gave orders for us to return to Roisel and await its arrival.

1 The late Major Ashe Windham, Inniskilling Dragoons, whose lamented death took place pig-sticking two years ago.

The last time I had seen Roisel it had been nothing but a forward dump in this very quiet spot, with a light railway in the making; now it had grown into a veritable railway junction, but a deserted one, for everything appeared to be packed up and ready for off,' as the Tommy says. Having seen weights taken off the packs, girths loosened and feeds on, Windy and I strolled over to some A.S.C. officers, who were supervising the loading of the last lorry. They told us we were just in time, as the last bottle of whisky was going aboard. It was a cold winter's day, and, nothing loath, we helped to lighten the load. It transpired that the Boche had counter-attacked heavily the night before, had followed it up in the morning, and taken back a great deal which we had gained, and that he might be expected to renew the attack at any time. Hence the departure of the A.S.C. and all portable stores.

We returned to our horses and had not been waiting long when over the crest cavalry appeared at a hand gallop. They proved to be our sister division, composed of two brigades of Indian cavalry with their complement of British regiments and the brigade of Canadian cavalry. Most of their horses were in a lather, and they had apparently wasted no time in getting off. We saluted many old friends and waited for our division to follow. After a considerable waste of time, we received word that they had taken a more northerly road and gone in the direction of Epéhy. Accordingly we moved in that direction, and I as a free-lance was sent to reconnoitre and try to get into touch.

It was more difficult than it would seem, for night had fallen, there was no moon, and the roads were filled with transport. I put out feelers in several directions, but had no luck, so returned to my unit, and we pressed on towards Epéhy. I noticed in the dark that we had been adopted by a French police dog, one of the Alsatian wolf-dogs; he kept looking up at me, and I felt pleased at the compliment. On nearing Epéhy we found the roads congested with every kind of arm, but all moving in a forward direction. Windy went on ahead, worming his way in and out of the traffic for news, while I stayed with the squadron.

Little by little we edged into Epéhy and arrived at a crossroads just too late, for a British cavalry division had outstripped us, and we knew we were doomed to wait for some time till they passed by.

We dismounted and stood by our horses. It was then that I felt a cold wet nose thrust into the palm of my hand as it hung down by my side, and, looking down, saw my police-dog friend. Somehow it was a little touch of sympathy that reminded me of Mr. Kipling's They, and made me feel that the doggie knew more of what was ahead than I. I fondled him a bit, and then he

trotted off, presently to return and repeat the performance. This he did no less than three times, always coming up from behind and putting his muzzle into my hand. But, alas, when he was away on one of his expeditions, the road ahead cleared, and I had to give orders to move on and never saw him again. I would have given a good deal to have waited for that dog, and all through a cold wet nose.

After much fruitless wandering, entirely by accident we ran across the first-line transport of our brigade, and were able to take the opportunity of a halt to water and feed.

An expeditionary force canteen was doing its utmost to unload its stock, with many willing helpers, so we secured several tins of biscuits and tongues for our men, and ourselves fed in like fashion in a derelict boiler-house of a sugar factory.

Once again we moved on, and, finally, some time between I a.m. and 2 a.m., found the rest of the squadron in a grassy bottom between two ridges. What a time they had had to move off! Not only had more than half the squadron gone up to the line with the guns, but a number had gone also to bring back the led horses, so that only a few remained to bring up the rest of the gear. Of my own section Corporal Robertson and one other had been left behind. He had worked himself to a standstill to bring everything along in the transport. I was tired out with the search for the squadron and regret to this day that I did not realise his difficulties and showed annoyance at a missing ammunition pack. I can still see his look of reproach, and think he must have had some presentiment of what was in store.

Another feed for our horses and a biscuit or two for ourselves washed down with a little stimulant, and we were soon fast asleep in the grass at their sides.

We were awake and astir again by half-past four, saddled up, packs and guns ready to be put on at a moment's notice. A cup of tea and more biscuits.

I chose the Doctor' as my charger for the day, for I knew that he was a good trustworthy character. He was a commonlooking old beast, much of the type of the doctor's or parson's cob of the last century. Of my other two horses, 'Mary,' a whimsical, pretty little black mare, my first servant rode, and 'Soldier,' a raking waler, with a heart like oak and a mouth like stone, I gave to my other servant to ride, and withal a pack to lead. This was my first mistake.

At 6.30 a.m. we moved off through the misty dawn. The scene is admirably portrayed in black and white by Major Lake in his Cavalry before Cambrai, companion to his sketch Cavalry at Arras, an equally true representation. Nose to tail over rolling grass lands and through lanes of wire we threaded our way, with

here and there a glimpse of other ghost-like columns moving in the same direction.

Finally, about 8 a.m., when the mist had cleared away and it was fully light, the whole division dropped into a valley northwest of the village of Peizière and south of the railway line. Each unit split itself up into squadrons or half-squadrons, and we sheltered ourselves behind the west slope of the ridge on which the village stands, the enemy's position being to our north-east. Whether, dropping down into this valley, we had been observed by the enemy as the mist cleared away, or whether it was due to a solitary section of horse guns hidden away in the village, I do not know; but in a very short time spasmodic and at times pretty heavy shelling began to search behind the ridge. It was an unpleasant and trying position for one unacquainted with shelling in the open, but remarkable for the comparatively small number of casualties. Odd individuals, men or horses, seemed to be picked out at random. One would see a shell burst apparently right in the middle of a squadron, and only one or two horses and perhaps a trooper be injured. Some eight or ten shells must have burst within 15 yards of myself and section, and yet not one of us was touched; but 100 yards up the slope a poor horse would be disembowelled by the screaming band from the same shell. One could hear the nose-caps humming over one's head, the bands screaming or the fragments of shell whining and pinging as they whizzed through the air. A shell burst in a sunken road filled with Indian Lancers and their horses and had no outlet; there was a writhing mass of men and horses, and then the cry of 'Stretcher-bearers!' A shrapnel crashed overhead, and a solitary man put his hands to his head, saying, ' I'm hit,' sank to his knees and collapsed.

One felt all the while the eyes of the men fixed on one, taking their cue. It was a great responsibility, but at the same time a great help. One dare not show one's fear, knowing that it was touchand-go with some of them, and consequently one was enabled to go to the other extreme and appear even buoyant. There really seems to be some great spirit that uplifts one on these occasions.

Presently the commanding officer sent for me. Orders had been received that we were to gallop a ridge on which the Boches were entrenched.

It happened that on the previous day this ridge had been held by the N Infantry Division, who had been obliged to fall back on to the village of Peizière owing to the sudden pincer-like tactics adopted by the enemy to 'pinch' out the salient won by our troops in the earlier stages of the battle. This ridge was just to the south-east of Villers-Guislain, where the southern tooth of the pincers was biting.