1880-1883
RANGOON
[Sidenote: 1880]
At the expiration of his term of office at Aldershot, in May 1880,
Captain Gatacre took short leave home, and then rejoined the 77th at
Dover. The regiment had been already warned for India in the next
trooping season, but the news of our misfortune at Maiwand hastened
their departure, and in August 1880 they were hurriedly embarked at
only a fortnight's notice. To Gatacre the hope of seeing active
service must have more than compensated for a disappointment he had
expressed at not getting another staff billet. This hope, however,
vanished on their arrival at Bombay, where the regiment learnt that the
defeat of Ayub Khan outside Khandahar on September 2 had brought the
campaign to a conclusion. The battalion was landed at Bombay on
September 10, and made its way by road to Madras.
[Sidenote: On the staff]
It is evident that Gatacre's reputation as a {39} zealous and efficient
officer had preceded him, for within one month of his arrival in India
he was seconded for service on the staff of the Hyderabad Subsidiary
Force, which had its headquarters at Secunderabad. All keen soldiers
are pleased to be in India, for there is more chance of active service
there than at home, and it was in the hope of getting this opportunity
that Gatacre lived and worked. In the meantime his selection for staff
work, although the post was only "temporary," was sufficiently
complimentary to satisfy all his aspirations. His qualities and
temperament had greater scope to expand in such a post than in the more
rigid routine of a regiment; his previous experience of India added
discernment to his enthusiasm in dealing with all the manifold
interests with which he came in contact.
But there was a cloud on the horizon which rapidly grew until the whole
sky was for the moment overcast. Early in the New Year his little son,
born at Aldershot and aged only fifteen months, fell sick with cholera,
and died on January 18. Both parents felt the blow terribly: the
mother took fright for the elder boy, and decided to carry him off
home. Several touching relics, in the way of a lock of hair, etc.,
that Gatacre, in spite of his many changes of residence, never
afterwards cared to destroy, show how deeply he was moved by this loss.
He had a spontaneous fondness for children that led him all his life to
accost them; and his attentions to them invariably met with that {40}
quick response which is in itself a sign of grace in the recipient.
A manhood fused with female grace,
In such a sort, a child would twine
A trustful hand, unasked, in thine,
And find his comfort in thy face.
He looked forward with pleasure to getting a change when he should be
relieved in June by the officer whose post he was holding, and soon had
the satisfaction of accepting an offer from General the Honourable
Arthur Hardinge, Commander-in-Chief of the Bombay Army, to take the
place of his Military Secretary, who was for the moment employed
elsewhere.
[Sidenote: 1881]
This appointment was even more congenial than the last: for to be on
the personal staff of the Commander-in-Chief of a province meant
accompanying him on all his tours of inspection. Like the former, this
appointment was an eight months' business, for staff officers in India
get sixty days' short leave every year, and eight months' long leave
occasionally; for the latter period it was usual to appoint some
officer to carry on, and it was Gatacre's good fortune throughout his
career to be constantly selected for such temporary tenure of office.
In this way he gained an acquaintance with all the provinces of India,
and with all arms, British and Native, such as rarely falls to the lot
of one man. When he left India, seventeen years later, there was
hardly a station in all the four provinces which he had not visited.
[Sidenote: Military Secretary]
In the course of the winter, 1881-2, General {41} Hardinge paid an
official visit to Sir Robert Phayre, at Mhow. One of his daughters
well remembers Major Gatacre on this occasion. His handsome bronzed
face, his slight athletic figure, and keen but kindly blue eyes
arrested the attention; and then on further acquaintance, his
indefinable charm of manner, his courtly way of devoting himself to his
companion for the moment, his curious mixture of modesty and power left
an impression which later years exaggerated as his name became
identified with all the soldierly qualities and achievements which
built up his fame.
Every moment of these inspection tours was full of interest for
Gatacre; who, being a good son, writes fully and simply about
everything to the Squire at home.
CAMP HAMURGHURI,
_December_ 18, 1881.
"We are having a very pleasant march from Nusserabad to Neemuch; good
shooting all the way--duck, snipe, and deer; also some capital
pig-sticking. The wild boars here are very difficult to get out of the
jungle and grass, but when one does get them out across the open ground
they run like greyhounds. I have two ponies a little under fourteen
hands, both fast, and I have sometimes galloped a mile and a half
before I could catch one; this was allowing him about a quarter of a
mile start, otherwise if pressed they turn into the jungle. When you
get up to them on the open ground, they turn round and run back a pace
or two, and then come straight at you, rising on their hind legs to cut
your horse if they get the chance, but {42} this of course they can't
do if you use your spear properly. I have got some capital tushes.
The best run we have had as yet was at a place called Roopauli, two
marches back; two boars broke covert together and went away over
capital ground to another place two miles off. The Commander-in-Chief
and I took one and had a capital run after him. I had the luck to get
the first spear. I was pleased, because I was riding a horse of the
Chief's that could never be got up to a pig before. To-morrow we are
coming to a place celebrated for cheetul, a kind of spotted deer,
antlers like a stag and skin like a fallow deer. I am in hopes of
getting one or two. This is a beautiful country to march through, very
long grass and jungle all round; nearly all the hills are of white
marble; and spotted marbles of sorts, and an enormous number of old
forts and temples beautifully ornamented with carvings in marble and
stone. Some of them are extraordinarily beautiful in form and design
of carving, far superior to anything we see now--and these are
thousands, not hundreds, of years old."
[Sidenote: 1882]
It is difficult to say when Gatacre "found" himself--to use an
expression that Mr. Rudyard Kipling has for ever endowed with
psychological meaning; but there can be no doubt that the shifting
scenes in which he played his part from the time he landed in India, in
August 1880, till he commanded his regiment in June 1884, must have
widened his outlook on life, must have quickened his sense of the
opportunities before him, and have enabled him to gauge his own powers.
India encourages individuality to {43} a very high degree; men live in
small groups in stations that are hundreds of miles apart; in any one
place there is (in a sense) only one man of any one grade, so that the
labourers do not jostle one another, but each has enough elbow-room to
play freely with his tools.
[Sidenote: To Burma]
At the conclusion of his time with General Hardinge in February 1882,
Gatacre was sent to act as Assistant Quarter-Master-General to the
Burmese Division, with headquarters at Rangoon, then under the command
of General H. Prendergast. The British connection with this
picturesque river-port dates from 1824, when Sir Archibald Campbell
captured it after a feeble resistance. In the following year, owing to
continued outrages on British subjects and the refusal of the King of
Ava to enter into any treaty obligations with us, a British force
advanced up the Irrawaddy to Prome, and stayed there throughout the
rainy season. In October the Burmese Army made an organised attempt to
recover the place; but the British forces repulsed the attack, and
followed up the enemy to within four days' march of their capital at
Ava. At this point the Burmese sued for peace: their apologies were
accepted, and the country was evacuated, except for the sea-board
provinces of Arakan and Tenasserim. The Province of Pegu was restored
to the Burmese and remained in their hands till 1852, when fresh
outrages and insolence on the part of another Burmese sovereign again
gave rise to hostilities. At the conclusion of peace Pegu {44} was
formally annexed by Proclamation, while Lord Dalhousie was Viceroy,
under the name of Lower Burma, and Rangoon was made the seat of
government.
Upper Burma was at that time in a deplorable condition; the excesses of
the ruler, who was called Pagan-min, are described as recalling the
worst years of the later Roman Empire. With a change of dynasty in the
person of Mindon-min, matters improved somewhat. The new ruler
realised the value of European enterprise and capital; he allowed
strangers of all nations to settle in the country, and protected
travellers and explorers. A few years later a commercial treaty was
negotiated with Great Britain, a Resident was received, and for his
protection he was allowed a small guard and an armoured boat on the
river. To commemorate his flourishing reign Mindon founded a new
capital at Mandalay, and in 1874 had himself crowned there to fulfil a
prophecy.
[Sidenote: King Theebaw]
On his death, in September 1878, a terrible tragedy was enacted.
Mindon, being an Oriental, had many wives and many sons; these latter
he had dispersed as rulers of provinces with very good effect. When
the old king lay dying, one of his wives devised a scheme by which to
secure the succession to Prince Theebaw, for the reason that he was her
son-in-law by his marriage with Supya-lat, her daughter. With the most
fiendish designs Theebaw and the queen, in the king's name, summoned
all the princes to Mandalay. They arrived each with {45} his Oriental
retinue of women of all ages. The royal ladies were lodged in the
prison, which had been cleared for their reception; the princes were
received into the palace. "Under instructions from the King," a
massacre was perpetrated on the nights of February 15, 16, and 17,
1879. The queens and princesses and even royal children were done to
death by the "ruffians released for the purpose from the jail which was
now the scene of their cruelties, and their bodies were flung into a
hole already dug in the jail."[1] The princes were compelled to pass
through a certain doorway in the palace, where each one was in turn cut
down; it is even said that the queen-mother and Supya-lat with their
own hands did the deed. "Eight cartloads of the bodies of the Princes
of the Blood were conveyed out of the city by the western or 'Funeral
Gate,' and thrown into the river according to custom."
[1] _Parliamentary Papers_ (Burma), 1886. Quotations from the
_Mandalay Confidential Diary_, by Mr. R. B. Shaw, Resident, of February
19, 1879, and later dates.
It was calculated that some eighty souls thus perished. Even the
people were horrified. Our Resident, Mr. Shaw, could do no more than
express with vigour the light in which his Government would regard
these atrocities; but King Theebaw was inaccessible to argument, and
reasserted his right to take "such measures to prevent disturbance as
might be desirable," stating that such acts were in accordance with the
custom of the State, and that he would {46} go his own way without
regard to "censure or blame."[2]
[2] _Parliamentary Papers_ (Burma), 1886.
[Sidenote: 1883]
Owing to further gross outrages, the Resident was driven to fulfil his
threat of breaking off friendly relations with such a ruler; the
British flag was hauled down in August 1879, and the Residency
evacuated.
There were now no governors to keep order in the provinces: dacoits
sprang up, traders were robbed and killed, the people were oppressed,
and the land neglected. English merchants, however, continued to carry
on their business at their own risk; their boats plied up and down the
broad stream, and it was in their hospitable company that Gatacre spent
Christmas 1882 at Mandalay.
RANGOON, _January_ 11, 1883.
"MY DEAR FATHER,
"I send you a line to tell you my doings up-country at Christmas time.
I was sorry to leave Alice just then, but the opportunity of seeing
Mandalay for nothing was a great temptation.
"We went, a party of six, including myself, most of them merchants. We
had a steamer to ourselves, and the head of the Irrawaddy Flotilla
Company, a Mr. Swan, who took us, did everything in first-rate style.
The River Irrawaddy is a very difficult one to navigate at this dry
season of the year, owing to the constantly shifting sands. We did not
get aground, luckily, but we passed several steamers fast on the sands;
they sometimes remain there six months till the river fills and floats
them off. The steamers only drew 4 ft. 6 in. of water.
{47}
"We took four and a half days altogether to go up to Mandalay, but I
did not join them till the steamer reached Prome, so I had only three
days on board going up. The country, as far as we could see from the
banks, consists of large rich plains, covered with grass and scrub
jungle; very little cultivation, owing to the poverty of the people,
but if capital was forthcoming the soil would grow anything. Where the
crops were sown the yield was very large. There are low ranges of
hills on the right bank, and a highish range, called the Shan
Mountains, on the left bank.
"We were told there was but little game inland; we saw plenty of
wild-fowl, geese, etc. The poverty of the people is chiefly owing to
the King having started lotteries, which bring him in 10,000 Rs., about
£800, a day. The people have gone gambling mad, and barter everything
they have for tickets--property, children, everything. The King ruins
the country by his recklessness in squandering money; he presses the
people to such an extent that an up-country Burman will hardly take the
trouble to make money.
"Mandalay is nothing but a collection of mud huts and a few masonry
buildings, laid out in a beautiful style, all the houses in rows, with
large streets running between each at right angles. It was laid out by
Italians. None of the roads are made, so the bullock-carts passing
along them in the rains have cut them up to a frightful extent; and in
the rains they are impassable except quite at the edges, and then only
to pedestrians. Mandalay was only built twenty-five years ago;
formerly the capital was Ameerapoora, about six miles off, but was
changed to Mandalay by order of the King. {48} Ameerapoora is a
beautiful site--large trees, grass, and water everywhere. Some of the
carved pagodas are very beautiful, but going very much to decay. The
custom is, in Burma, that when a man builds a house or pagoda he only
can repair it, or his relations; the consequence is that in course of
time the building is forgotten and goes to pieces.
"We saw the war-boats on the river; they are long dug-out canoes, a
beautiful shape somewhat like this,[3] generally with a figure-head of
a peacock (their sacred bird). The canoes are gilt all over, and
manned with eighty to one hundred men; each has a short paddle, and is
armed with a 'dah,' the Burmese knife, a 2 ft. 6 in. blade, with handle
of 8 in. or 12 in. The canoes go like lightning, driven by the rowers,
who shout all the time. The Burmese are great boatmen, and their races
on the water are well worth seeing. They bet tremendously high on them.
[3] See drawing in letter. [Transcriber's note: this letter was
missing from the source book.]
"The second largest bell in the world is at Mendoon, near Mandalay;
this we went to see. It is 14 ft. high, and of a most enormous
thickness--about 1 ft. 6 in. I should say. It was originally suspended
on three enormous teak trees laid on masonry supports, but these have
given way, and now it rests in the ground. There is also near the bell
the commencement of a very large pagoda. Some one (I forget who) made
up his mind to build the largest pagoda in the world, so started upon
one. He got together an extraordinary amount of brick-work, but an
earthquake unfortunately stopped the work by splitting it up in several
places. It is about 100 yards square and high, so you can imagine the
size of it. It is built with {49} large red bricks, 2 ft. long by 1
ft. wide by 4 in. thick.
"We stopped in Mandalay two and a half days. I rode about all over the
place, and found the people very civil, though they are very suspicious
of Englishmen.
"We came down in one and a half days to Prome, where I caught the night
train down, as I had to be back on New Year's Day, my leave being up.
The trip was a most enjoyable one."
[Sidenote: Second-in-command]
The temporary staff billet having run out at the end of 1882, Gatacre
went home on three months' leave early in the following year, and when
he returned in May took up the post of second-in-command of his
regiment, which in those days meant taking command of one wing of the
battalion. This brought no change of residence, as the 77th were then
quartered in Rangoon.
He joined heartily in everything that was going on, and had, moreover,
interests of his own which lay beyond the field of duty. The spring
and autumn race-meetings were a great event. Though he does not seem
to have owned any racing ponies, he was always in request as a jockey.
Every morning he would hack down to the racecourse, and being a light
weight was often asked to give a gallop to the ponies that were in
training. In a letter of June 1883 he says: "I rode in five races, and
won two, the hurdle race and an open race--the best race of the
meeting--which pleased me."
{50}
There was a steeplechase pony named Free Lance that he rode to victory
many times. The owner of Free Lance appeared as Mr. Darwood, a
gentleman of Rangoon, of mixed nationality; but I am inclined to think
that Free Lance was in reality the property of King Theebaw, for the
General told me that at one time he had half shares with King Theebaw
in a racing pony, which he rode, and there is no other period to which
this incident could be attached. I have now in my possession a gold
scarf-pin that King Theebaw sent as a recognition of Gatacre's services
in the matter of this pony. Although this secret was kept so close
that none of the regimental officers got wind of it, it is not
considered improbable.[4] It was well known that Gatacre had friends
amongst the leading men of Rangoon, and it is entirely in accordance
with his character that he should have been personally acquainted with
his native neighbours. Indeed it is not altogether impossible that he
was engaged in some sort of secret intelligence duties for Government,
for he told me that at one time he used to disguise himself and go and
talk in the Native Bazaar, and it is certain that he acquired the
Burmese language, and could even write it to some extent.
[4] As King Theebaw was at that time an independent friendly sovereign,
there is nothing contrary to any regulations in Gatacre's association
with him in this matter.
[Sidenote: Iolanthe]
In the summer of 1882 the regimental officers and others in the station
got up a performance of _Patience_, in which Gatacre {51} figured as
one of the Dragoon Chorus. In the following year _Iolanthe_ was
produced. Gatacre was anxious that the audience should include persons
of all nationalities; and in order that those who could not understand
the English words should have some key to the action, he made a précis
of the play, and, having written it in Hindustani characters, had it
lithographed, and distributed with the programmes. A copy of this
curious document, which covers three sides of foolscap, and is signed
in full, is still to be seen in the scrap-book of the officer who
joined the 77th Regiment for love of his tutor at Sandhurst.
At the end of September Gatacre heard of the birth of his third son,
John Kirwan, now in the 11th Bengal Lancers.
In December 1883 the regiment left Rangoon for Secunderabad.
{52}