little band of men and exhausted both mentally and physically they found themselves back in the old quarters at Tjakra.

Every one was naturally feeling most depressed and out of sorts; on the whole the treatment of the Balinese was very considerate. The native soldiers were now permitted to share the accommodation in the poeri. The prince even sent one of the chiefs towards the middle of the day to inform the officers that presently some disturbance might be expected in the street in front of the poeri, but that there was no occasion for alarm. It was only a muster against the Sassaks who were threatening Narmada. This notice was shortly followed by the most astounding uproar. To the sound of war drums hundreds of Balinese passed by the poeri; all were armed with spears and were howling and shouting at the top of their voices.

Amidst all this performance the prisoners were in no way neglected, but were provided with all necessaries. This then was the way in which the 1st September went by.

The wounded were provided with fresh bandages, a present from the prince. On the 3rd of Sept. permission was given to go to the Dewa temple to fetch the three wounded whom they had been compelled to leave behind. True they were only convicts, but the hardships that had been undergone together in the same cause had brought all closer to one another.

All sorts of suggestions were made by the Prince during this period; one was that Lindgreen should write to the General-in Malay, so that it might be read beforehand-informing him that he and his men were prisoners, but well cared for by the prince. But Lindgreen refused to fall in with the plan: "he would only correspond with his Ichief in Dutch."

Then again it was proposed that the prince himself should write a letter to have it taken by one of the officers, for the General had given orders to shoot any Balinese who came within sight and the Prince dared not expose his poenggawas.

Meanwhile the squadron had bombarded Mataram; the greater part of the shells had burst and caused great damage to the houses as Gusti Njengo candidly confessed. On the 5th September a youthful Ratu coming from Mataram, told Lindgreen that his house had been destroyed by a bomb-shell and he was going to beg of the prince to release the prisoners, as that would certainly put an end to the war. The prince was a good friend to the Government, etc.... the old, old story. On the morning of the 6th September, an order came to the effect that Lindgreen and his men were to prepare for their departure; the prince had written a letter to the General and Lindgreen was to be the bearer of it.

The Balinese provided our men with food and gave them bamboo to make new stretchers with and at 2 p.m. all was ready for a start.

Suddenly a most appalling noise was heard in front of the poeri, similar to that of a couple of days before.

Considerable anxiety was felt by all-so many disappointments naturally caused distrust-but this time all fears were unfounded. The clamour was simply to summon together the men told off to act as escort to Lindgreen.

The procession soon formed: first a couple of Chiefs-one carrying the despatch and the officers, then the soldiers, some carrying the wounded and behind them armed Balinese.

A different route was followed to the one they had taken on their previous march; the prince had instructed them to go southwards through Passinggahan-was this so that our men should remain ignorant of the measures of defence, which had been taken? Arrived at this kampong the escort went into the poeri, where one of the sons of the prince resided and our men stayed outside, but the people brought them

cocoa-nuts.

The march was continued in the same order as far as Sekar Béla and here the escort took their leave, with instructions to follow the road in a westerly direction. However instead of keeping to the route taken by the Commander-in-chief at the time of his retreat on the 27th August they took a shorter one. A native, whom they met just after leaving the Balinese, promised to guide them more quickly to Kalé, where the Netherlands troops were located.

On they went through narrow, solitary streets, over ditches and galangans. Quite unexpectedly about 4 p. m. they saw the beloved tricolor flying above Kalé, where Colonel Scheuer was in command.

Lindgreen and his men were really and truly saved!

And great indeed was the delight of the troops at Kalé at the sight of the comrades, whom they had given up as lost. The reception accorded them was more than cordial and naturally every effort was made to relieve the wounded and the sick; after all had been thoroughly attended to and refreshed, they were sent under a strong escort to Ampenan, where once more they were the recipients of hearty congratulations on the narrow escape they had had; of course some, who were too ill, were left at Kalé.

On his arrival at Ampenam Lindgreen handed over to the Commanderin-chief the letter from the Rajah; in it he said that the attack of 25th-26th August had originated on our side and furthermore that he released the prisoners purely as a sign of friendship and goodwill and to show that he wished to put an end to hostilities.

Lindgreen was somewhat disappointed to find that the Commanderin-chief did not think fit to send any acknowledgment of the prince's letter.

Now that the fate of the different columns and divisions was actually known, the extent of our calamities could be accurately estimated. The casualties were as follow: 97 killed, among whom 9 officers, 50 European and 38 Amboynese and native soldiers of inferior rank; 272 wounded, of whom 17 officers, 103 European and 151 Amboynese and native soldiers, 9 of whom have since died. Amongst the missing were 10

European and 16 Amboynese and natives, but these figures were reduced later on to 5 and 9.

Hitherto we have followed the sequence of events as they occurred, in order not to lose connection with them and now we will briefly state our opinion concerning them.

As a preliminary we will make one or two remarks: Repeated references have been made both in private and official documents-and we ourselves plead guilty to the same mistake-to a treacherous attack, to a base and shameful betrayal on the part of the Balinese, to an onslaught against which no precautionary measures were taken. In our opinion this statement is incorrect.

As an ally, our native subjects might prove treacherous-but in this instance there could be no question of betrayal, as far as the Balinese were concerned.

Up to the 25th August they were the people against whom our fighting powers were directed and whom we were busy trying to bring into submission by force of arms. The Balinese were therefore our enemies. As such they might resort to artifice and cunning-but under the circumstances they could not betray us.

Forethought must be taken for similar acts of cunning on the part of the opposing side. Difficulties may stand in the way; it may even be impossible to take decisive measures, still this does not preclude the need for straining every nerve to try and do so and to make every practicable arrangement for safety.

Now, it cannot be denied, that we left these precautionary measures incomplete, and that, by neglecting this duty, we facilitated the plans of the enemy, although we did not actually invite him to take advantage of his opportunity.

Another circumstance was responsible too for the extent of our disasters, the peculiar situation, the enormous size and construction of Tjakra.

Surely the danger proceeding from these facts was no secret. One contingency, that no one unfortunately seems to have taken into account, was the ease with which breaches could be made in the massive walls and which would place our men entirely at the enemy's mercy. An enemy shooting from over the wall might be disposed of, but against an enemy shooting from behind a wall, one was powerless.

"Yes, one ought to have known this, this ought not to have been overlooked."

Undoubtedly one ought to have known and an ideal Commander-inchief with an efficient staff would not have overlooked this eventuality, but let who will, throw stones at General Vetter and his staff,-we do not wish to be of the number.

What has struck us most of all in reading the accounts of the war, and what deserves most special notice is the marvellous discipline, the fearless courage of the Indian army, not only amongst the officers but

amongst the soldiers; in face of the most intense distress, every man did his duty, the faith and trust in the leaders remained unshaken. From a military standpoint, this is looked upon as the bright side of the surprise.

Never before were the virtues of the Indian army brought in such happy prominence. But no matter how high sounding our praise may be, we feel compelled to notice one defect. Truly, every light casts a shadow.

With that tenacity of purpose, which our people displayed in their continuous struggle with the elements and by means of which they acquired greatness in their battle for liberty in the 16th and 17th centuries, and which is still to day the principal characteristic of our brothers on the far side of the river Vaal, with that tenacity, I say, we maintained our hold in Lombock.

Side by side with that tenacity of purpose, is another, a negative characteristic amongst our present day folks, a virtue which is compressed within narrow limits and has no longer a voice in the heart of European States. It is, a want of initiative, a shrinking from making a bold attack, from taking the offensive, a want of that quality which stamped our forefathers; which sent them in search for dangers and enabled them to vanquish them.

This was our fault at Atchin, at Flores, and this again was our fault here. The moment the enemy fired the first shot was the time to have taken refuge within the protecting walls of the Dewa temple; instead of so doing, preference was given to the open bivouac. But every shot that hits, increases the difficulties of taking the offensive, every wounded soldier is an encumbrance for the retreat.

Finally the number of dead and wounded was such as to force a compulsory retreat into the temple and all idea of offensive action was laid aside and a retreat was entered upon; we have seen how the marches were hindered by the transport of the disabled.

Precisely the same thing was repeated in the sawah-bivouac of the 7th Batt. During the whole night the sounds of rifle and cannon at Tjakra were heard and surely the Commander might have known what fate would be his, situated as he was in such an open, unprotected position. Even had he not wished to take the offensive, the very least he could do was to prepare for a strong defence; he might have taken up a position on the borders of Mataram and Tjakra with his three companies and conveyed thither victuals ammunition, etc.; instead of taking any such step the Commander waited patiently until the next morning and maintained his dangerous position until forced to retreat on account of his heavy losses.

Was the idea which the Commander-in-chief conceived at Tjakra of attacking the enemy in the poeri itself a wrong one?

Of course we do not mean an attack against the Western portion intersected by endless walls and passages, of the ins and outs of which all were alike ignorant, but against the Eastern side, at Majura, near where the

pond was. "The walls were too solid,"-quite so, but the gateways and doors were not!

The question remains whether our limited forces had any chance of success against so many thousand foes?

Too much time was wasted until one quarter of our men were incapacitated and required the care and watchfulness of ever so many others to guard them. If, instead of allowing matters to reach such a climax, an immediate reply had been given to the first shot, when all were in good condition, it is more than probable that our forces, 400 men strong and well organized, would have been able to give a good account of themselves.

Besides we do not believe that there were thousands of enemies at the outset, for it is incredible that preparations on such an extensive scale could have remained unsuspected by us. We surmise that this rising was very similar in its working to all others of a like nature : the initial success achieved by an inconsiderable number of men attracted to its ranks, not only all the hesitating ones, but those who had been left in total ignorance of the movement.

Had the enemy's forces been so large, and had the plan been so generally known, there was no reason why a simultaneous attack on the 7th Batt. should not have been attempted.

It is well known that it was only on the morning of the 26th August that the Prince notified to the population of Mataram that they were to take their part in the attack; and that, when the attack began against Major van Blommestein, the firing slackened at Tjakra.

This does not point to such an overwhelming superiority. Unhesitatingly we admit that to have taken the initiative would have been a risky, even a very risky, but by no means desperate, step; still it is always more praiseworthy to take a risk than to allow one's self to be killed without defence.

"There are times!" says von Clausewitz" when the greater risk is the greater prudence!"

What about the officer in command of the 7th Battalion, might he not have gone to the assistance of the threatened at Tjakra? How eagerly they looked for his arrival. He was only 20 minutes distant from them. The whole night long he heard continuous firing; but only at dawn did he send a company to reconnoître.

How differently did the Germans act in the Franco-German war. (They marched towards the sound of the cannon on their own account). It is no use retorting: "they were in larger numbers," or "in that case the opposing army was not so overwhelming as here." It was not only the generals, who marched at the heads of their divisions, but also captains with their companies and lieutenants with their detachments who advanced against unknown and frequently countless numbers.

Would it have been desirable that the Commander-in-chief, once having reached the Dewa temple, should wait there for the columns