e censor, that amid multifarious important
responsibilities as chief of the Intelligence branch he should find
time daily to peruse and correct tens of thousands of words, often
crabbedly written, in press messages. With the approach of the day of
battle, his own department taxed more and more his entire attention,
and side by side the correspondents' telegrams grew in length and
importance. The task of proper censorship under such conditions was
impossible for any human being to discharge adequately. On that
account the public interest suffered, for press matters were often
neither promptly nor fully despatched. As a rule, the correspondents
were left in blissful ignorance of what had been cut out of their
copy, as well as of the exact nature of the residuum transmitted.
Besides these grievances there was one of favouritism alleged, but of
that there is always more or less in every phase of life and
association. All told, it may be thought that the correspondents'
complaints were of no very serious character. That depends on how they
are looked at. I have no taste for cavilling or grumbling over events
that are past. Surely, however, there is a middle way somewhere to be
found between the absolutism of a general in the field, who may gag
the correspondents or treat them as camp followers, and the clear
right of the British public under our free institutions to have news
dealing with the progress of their arms rapidly transmitted home. I
am well aware of the grave responsibilities that hedge a
commander-in-chief, and the cruel injury that an unrestrained
non-combatant may do him by recklessly writing on subjects calculated
to jeopardise the success of a campaign and hazard countless lives and
fortunes. The latter is an remote possibility. A commander-in-chief
has to consider that any enemy worth his salt is usually kept informed
by spies and deserters, and press-men who are known and cognisant of
their duty are no more likely to betray secrets to their country's
enemies than any officer or soldier in the Queen's service. And
nowadays the private correspondence from troops in the field cannot be
suppressed, and it is often published. Commanders of armies will
either have to accept the presence of recognised writers, over whom
they can exercise some control, or instead stand powerless before a
dangerous flood of random army letters poured into the public press.
The case can be met with judgment and care--plus penalties whe
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