1894-1895
BOMBAY
[Sidenote: Colara]
Although the climate of Bombay, which is situated on the nineteenth
parallel, did not offer the attractions of Poona, and although the
appointment brought no promotion in army rank, still Gatacre welcomed
the change of work, and the accession of dignity and opportunity
afforded by an independent command. On January 30, 1894, his selection
for the command of the Bombay District was gazetted, and shortly
afterwards he moved into the bungalow in the Marine Lines, which then
formed the official residence. Of this quaint building he was the last
tenant, for three years later this relic of Old Bombay and its naval
neighbour disappeared under the consuming flame of the Plague
Commission.
This house and the adjacent one which sheltered the Admiral were
historic erections, being survivals of the days when the Englishman
first pitched his moving tent in these regions. For the original
canvas covering of the tent, "jaffray-work," or plaited palm-leaves,
had {111} been substituted, which had to be renewed each year just
before the monsoon broke; this roof was supported on wooden columns
that were the successors of the original tent-poles, and made a quaint
feature in all the rooms. The canvas walls of the tent had been
replaced by Venetian shutters; the doors were made of cotton stuff
stretched on a frame, which left a large space above and below the
eye-line. The deep verandah, on which greenhouse creepers sprawled
luxuriantly, covered a space wide enough to allow of dining and
sleeping out-of-doors.
The weather is warm all the year round, and becomes exceedingly damp
and oppressive in the spring and autumn, while in the summer the
monsoon winds bring a rainfall of nearly 300 inches in three months.
White uniform is worn throughout the year, even on full-dress
occasions. At the extreme point of the island, in the breeziest and
healthiest situation, there are barracks for one British regiment, and
hard by is the beautiful chapel raised as a memorial to those who fell
in the Afghan Campaign of 1849. It was an exceedingly pretty sight to
see a regiment of men all clad in spotless white file into their places
on a Sunday morning. The rifle regiments wear their black buttons and
ornaments, and one would say that nothing could be smarter, until the
reliefs bring another corps, who with their gold buttons and belts
produce a more brilliant effect.
According to the military classification, {112} Bombay is a
Second-class District, held by a Brigadier-General, who is not really a
General Officer, but a full colonel with temporary rank. A First-class
District is held by a Major-General, whose importance is further marked
by the presence of an A.D.C. There is, however, so much ceremonial
work peculiar to Bombay that the General often wished that he had been
granted the services of such a young officer, as a way of saving his
regular staff.
[Sidenote: Transports]
Gatacre held this command for more than three years--from January 1894
to July 1897--but for eight months in the summer of the second year,
1895, he was on active service in Chitral, and for the same period in
1896 he was officiating at Quetta. Owing to the difference in climate
he thus served for five drill seasons in succession. Although these
two short episodes will be dealt with separately, the fact that he did
duty through the cold weather for three seasons in Bombay seems to
justify also a study of the conditions peculiar to that command.
So far as the passenger traffic is concerned, Bombay is the port of
India. It is the quickest route to all the provinces, even as far east
as Calcutta. All the transports between England and India call at
Bombay, and the vast majority of troops are there embarked and
disembarked. In consideration of the work entailed in arranging the
transport service, an extra Deputy Assistant Adjutant-General was
allowed on the staff; practically this department of the staff office
was the shipping agency for all the reliefs {113} throughout India.
Not only had the transhipping and railway arrangements to be made for
every regiment on its arrival and departure, and for drafts of men from
every branch of the service, but privilege passages had to be allotted
to the innumerable officers and their families who, when going home on
leave, hoped to avail themselves of the chance of a vacancy on a
transport. The rule in allotting these passages was that the junior
officer should take precedence, Government having apparently in mind
that their scale of pay gave them the first title to consideration. At
the same time, senior officers were often needed to take command of a
ship full of details, and sometimes had to be searched for, Army
nursing sisters, too, had special claims.
All these conflicting interests gave rise to almost as many private
letters as there were official applications. Ladies and children would
come and live in Bombay in the hope of securing a vacancy at the
eleventh hour--a device which was often successful. There were
numberless hard cases and jealousies over these passages, and many
funny stories were told. It was whispered that if an applicant called
in person on the General, her chances would be in direct proportion to
her personal attractions. The amount of baggage allowed was also a
source of infinite vexation. Once a nursing sister, who had recently
married an army surgeon, asked to be allowed to send her effects under
her maiden name, as the scale of baggage allowed in her professional
capacity {114} was slightly higher than that considered sufficient for
a captain's wife.
During the loading and unloading of these transports an officer of the
General's staff had to be continuously on duty to attend to any matter
that might arise, and to check the freight, live and dead. This was a
tedious and very irksome duty, and, considering the amount of work
going on in the office during the winter months, the time thus spent
could be ill spared. The General made a practice of calling in person
on all transports immediately before their departure, at whatever hour
it might be, and soon after their arrival. If a homeward-bound vessel
was starting on a midnight tide, he would dine in his picturesque white
mess-dress, and thus be ready to go and pay his official visit of
farewell. The house was a long way from the Bunder, so that this duty
involved a drive of more than a mile, and a run across the harbour in
the Government launch, which was always at his disposal. In that
intensely Oriental setting the thrill of living (as it were) in the
exchange, and seeing the great ships that go down to the sea carrying
their load of joyful anticipations, was irresistibly moving. Gatacre
was thus on terms of personal friendship with all the captains, and
used to ask them to his own house. As a Christmas recognition of such
attentions, the captain of the _Victoria_ sent up a specially selected
sirloin of English beef one year on the morning of December 25. All
who have tasted Indian beef will know that this was a rare delicacy.
{115}
[Sidenote: The Navy]
But transports were not the only vessels in Bombay Harbour. There were
ships from the Royal Navy, ships from the foreign navies, and
Peninsular and Oriental weekly mails, outward and homeward bound.
Between the navy and the army there was a strict etiquette regarding
the exchange of visits. Writing from Bombay on November 3, 1909,
General Swann tells us that--
"The procedure in the matter of ceremonial calling was for a staff
officer to go on board within twenty-four hours of a ship's arrival and
arrange for the exchange of visits between the captain and the general;
the first visit was made by whichever was the junior of the two, and
both visits were supposed to be over within the twenty-four hours."
Such official visiting had also to be attended to with great
punctuality in the case of foreign warships, and on these occasions a
bottle of champagne would be produced at any hour, and the health of
the respective sovereigns ceremoniously toasted. The General
particularly exerted himself to entertain these foreign guests. When a
Russian vessel was in the harbour he asked the captain and three or
four officers to breakfast at his house, inviting some ladies who could
talk French to come and entertain them. On another occasion, when an
Italian vessel lay at anchor, the General writes:
"I got up in the middle of the night last night to take the Duke of
Savoy and his staff out {116} hunting to-day. He thoroughly enjoyed
himself, galloped to his heart's content, made himself very sore at the
knees, and came home perfectly happy. I got back just in time to dress
for parade service, but could not get time for breakfast. Went to
church, and got back to luncheon at 2.30."
[Sidenote: 1894-7]
The hunting days in Bombay were Thursday and Sunday mornings; horses
were sent on overnight. The meet was at daybreak at a place reached
after about forty minutes in a train that left the station at 4.30 a.m.
Hounds moved off as soon as the light allowed. It was a sporting
country, for there were plenty of jackals, and the ground varied from
soft ricefields, enclosed by Irish banks, to hard rock and heavy sand
in which prickly-pear hedges were disagreeably abundant. The hunt
usually returned to the Jackal Club Camp in time for the 8.30 train,
and all the men got back in time to be at their offices by 10 o'clock.
Every one in Bombay has an office of some sort, for no one would live
there unless forced thereto by the necessity of fulfilling their
vocation.
Another feature of the Bombay command was the constant semi-official
attendances at the railway station and elsewhere. Whenever His
Excellency the Governor, or His Excellency the Commander-in-Chief, or
His Excellency the Admiral Commanding the East Indian Squadron passed
through the station, the General Officer Commanding was there to
receive him, or to see him off as the occasion demanded.
{117}
[Sidenote: Guests]
It was also his pleasure to meet any friends, official or private, who
might be arriving or departing by the mail. There was hardly a week
when his launch was not in attendance on the mail-boats. These usually
arrived at daybreak, but for Gatacre no hour was too early. One
morning the mail was to bring a general officer who was on his way to
take over a command up-country. His son, already appointed as A.D.C.,
had come down to Bombay to meet his father, and had called at the Staff
Office on the previous day. The General offered to take him on board
in his launch, as he was himself going to fetch his guest home to
breakfast, and named the hour. But when the General stepped into the
launch next morning the A.D.C. was nowhere visible on the Bunder.
Afterwards the young man turned up, and his father said with a
carelessnesss of speech which Gatacre was quick to detect: "May I
introduce you to my son?" To which Gatacre replied: "You may bring him
up to me if you like."
It was one of the paradoxes of Gatacre's character that he was
sometimes as punctilious about fine shades of etiquette as he was on
other occasions kindly when such subtleties interfered with his mood or
his purpose.
All through the cold weather the General's house was full. There were
the friends going by the mail to whom an invitation would be of the
greatest convenience; there were the friends arriving by the mail who
must stay one night to clear their baggage before starting up-country;
{118} there were the friends who had entertained him when inspecting at
their station, and whose daughters would enjoy the gaiety of the city.
He was very fond of ladies, and minutely thoughtful for every detail
which might contribute to their comfort or pleasure while in his house.
Over and above all these calls on his time there was still the
soldiering. The district covered a considerable area, extending
northward as far as Cutch-Bhuj in Kathywarj and including many inland
stations such as Ahmedabad, Baroda, Surat, and Khandalla. There was
also a detachment of the Marine Battalion in the Persian Gulf. All the
arrangements had been made for an official visit to Bushire in the
spring of 1896, and it was with great reluctance that the General gave
up this trip when he found himself under orders for Quetta.
It was the soldiering that he loved, and it was for this love of the
soldiering that he deliberately overworked himself. No personal
considerations had any weight. Having no one at home to watch over
him, he became recklessly irregular at his meals, and would sit up to
all hours of the night writing--endlessly writing. What kept him going
were the trips up-country to inspect the outlying regiments and
detachments; for in the train he would make up his arrears of sleep,
and the rules of politeness secured his punctual attendance at
meal-time. The uncertainty of his hours was a matter of some comment
at the office, where no doubt it {119} gave rise to considerable
inconvenience, and probably not less troublesome was his habit of
utterly disregarding the usual luncheon interval. The General was
playfully conscious of all these misdemeanours, for on bidding good-bye
to his chief staff officer on his departure for Quetta, he said:
[Sidenote: Office hours]
"Now you will be all right--with a brand-new General whom you can
educate to attend the office regularly at eleven, and go home to tiffin
at two."
This officer, however, bore him no grudge for his vagaries, and now
writes with great affection of his old Chief.
POONA, _September_ 17, 1909.
"As his staff officer there were two points he used to impress on
me--'No difficulty' and 'No finality.' Difficulties, like hills, were
useful for the exercise they give in surmounting them. There is no
difficulty that cannot be overcome somehow. No finality is the
watch-word of progress. What may seem best to-day can be improved upon
to-morrow, but that is no reason for deferring action indefinitely:
'The best is the enemy of the good.' Act on what seems good at the
moment, and trust to time and opportunity to find something better to
act on later. But act, and act promptly. This, I think, sums up the
principles he tried to instil into me, and his example illustrates his
teaching.
"I never served under a chief who thought more quickly, decided more
readily, or acted more promptly."
During the last week of November 1894 the {120} Viceroy, Lord Elgin,
arranged to hold a Durbar at Lahore. There was to be a great gathering
of the native princes of the Punjab, and a concentration of British,
Native, and Imperial Service troops. The Viceroy and the
Commander-in-Chief both had large camps, to which they invited guests
from all parts of India. Having received the offer of a tent and the
hospitality of his camp from Sir George White, Gatacre selected the two
best-looking chargers in his stable and repaired to Lahore in the
highest spirits.
[Sidenote: 1894]
In a letter written a little later, however, he confesses that it was
not the attractions of the Durbar that took him so far out of his
command at such a busy time of the year, but the expectation of seeing
some one again whom he had recently met as she passed through Bombay.
For the guests a Durbar week is a holiday; the General was a free
man--he had only to look on and enjoy himself. There were many
official functions where every one was gloriously apparelled, but he
looked as splendid as any in that brilliant company; and there were
many social festivities which afforded opportunity for daily
intercourse. It was during the picturesque pageants of the Lahore Week
that I came under the spell of the General's charm. To know him was to
love him, as many another has since said to me. During that week we
learnt to know one another, and at the end of it he wrote a frank manly
letter to my father, Lord Davey, begging him to sanction the idea of
our marriage. {121} I regret that the kindly reply to his honest
exposition of the whole matter has not been preserved; its purport
being in accordance with our hopes, the engagement was made known, and
I had the gratification of hearing my General's praises on all sides.
In some letters of December 1894 he intentionally writes about himself,
and supplies us with the incentives which inspired him.
"I am always thinking of how I can get on, not for the sake of the
money it brings, but for soldiering itself."
And again:
[Sidenote: Soldiering first]
"I hope you will not mind my love of soldiering and work; it has such a
fascination for me, I am inclined to put it first always. But my love
for you will stand out first, and your love for me will enable me to
carry out my work at personal inconvenience to ourselves, won't it?
You see I am cunningly trying to get you to overlook my endeavours to
think of soldiering as the first thing, but, dear, you will always be
in my heart all the time."
Perhaps it was by contrast with the slackness natural to the soft
climate of Bombay that Gatacre's indomitable spirit attracted so much
attention. Colonel James Arnott writes:
"Working, as I did, in the Civil Department, I had no official
association with your husband, and it was only when he commanded the
Bombay District that I got to know him at all well. I was much
impressed by his keen interest in his {122} profession, his strong
_esprit de corps_, his enthusiasm for work, and the activity and
strength which enabled him to carry it on in a way to stimulate others.
I have a clear recollection of his active figure and his first-rate
horsemanship, riding, as he often used to do, bare-backed, an
indication of character and of those qualities so necessary in a
soldier.
"General Gatacre took his share in everything of public interest in
Bombay, but I shall only refer to the very successful Assault-at-Arms
which he organised--the first and best thing of the kind that I saw in
my long residence in Bombay."[1]
[1] September 13, 1909.
[Sidenote: The first tournament]
This tournament was a great event. The large grass-covered enclosure
known as the Oval was borrowed from the Municipality for the purpose of
a Grand Naval and Military Display and Assault-at-Arms. This space,
flanked on one side by the Town Hall, and on the other open to the sea,
offered every facility for such an undertaking. Admiral Kennedy, who
was in residence for Christmas, willingly co-operated; his handy men
rendered most valuable assistance, the naval element lending a
distinction of which only a Bombay Assault-at-Arms could boast. An
attractive programme was made out and entries were invited from all the
stations in India.
It was of course necessary to get subscriptions and guarantees; but the
General was already personally acquainted with all the leading men in
Bombay, and had no difficulty in {123} getting what he wanted. The
Governor and the resident native princes gave their support and
patronage, and many wealthy merchants, realising the great local
expenditure that such a tamasha must involve, contributed generously.
In the friendly relations established with the citizens of Bombay over
the multifarious business of this tournament lay the secret of the
facility with which Gatacre two years later won them to accept his
views about segregation.
Every detail of the entertainment had the General's personal attention;
his fertile brain organised and perfected the whole and every part, his
hands painted the scenery of the Soudan Village, his horse carried the
officer's daughter who, in the gay uniform of the Royal Horse
Artillery, opened the proceedings by presenting His Excellency the
Governor with a programme in a silver case. The incessant labour
entailed by this vast undertaking, and the strain necessary to honour
all its calls upon him while carrying on simultaneously the routine of
his official life, can be best expressed in his own words.
Writing on the Thursday before the tournament, which was to open on
Monday, December 17, he says:
"Before I met you I thought there was only one thing in the world, and
that was soldiering; now I think there are two, but the soldiering is
at present the only one I have got. I have been busy to-day, and in a
fever about the whole thing. I have been calling on the Italian ship,
drinking 'The King and Italy,' again very bad {124} when one has fever,
I should say; but no matter, the champagne was very good. The levee is
just over, the whole world pouring before Lord Harris, and now I am
going to paint till about 3 a.m. to-morrow. I have half a town to do,
and no one seems able to originate anything."
On the 18th, after the first day's performance, he writes:
"What will you say to me, not writing to you yesterday? But if you
only knew the sort of day I have had! First I was busy in the office,
could not move from my chair till 4 o'clock p.m.; then I had to dress
and meet H.E. the C.-in-C. at the station at 4.45, then to meet the
Admiral at the Apollo Bunder a mile away at 5 o'clock--all official
receptions; then to go to the Tournament to see all was right, finish
painting scenery, entertain the Governor's party at dinner, go to the
Tournament, watch it till 1 a.m., then drink 'the King and Italy' with
the Italian officers, who remained till the last. Finally, at 2 a.m.,
commence to count with an enormous staff of clerks 10,000 tickets, to
see if the money was right. You see, I am responsible, and I like to
be sure what we are doing. Well, dearest, the thing was a tremendous
success. We sold 10,000 Rs. worth of tickets last night, shall sell
probably 11,000 Rs. to-night, and so on.
[Sidenote: Tent-pegging]
"Everything went well. The light was not as good as I should wish, but
it was fair. We had no accident in the ring, but got a horse killed
afterwards, his leg being broken by a kick.... Well, I finished these
beastly tickets at 4 a.m., and at 7 had to go tent-pegging for an hour,
and since then have never sat down, so you see why I did not write.
Now it is 5.30 {125} p.m., and I am so tired--or at least my eyes are;
and I shall not have a chance to rest till 5 a.m. to-morrow; it will
take us all that time to check the takings."
On the 21st, when it was all over except for the prize-giving and the
congratulations, he writes:
"I have fever this morning; have not had any sleep for days, and had to
run in the Open Competition for Officers' Tent-pegging, which I won
easily, taking both pegs and then touching two more turned on edge. I
was rather pleased, as no one else touched one sideways at all, and all
were about twenty years younger than I! My team ran fourth for the
Duke of Savoy's Cup; my men could not ride well enough; I got both mine.
"To-day is the final ceremony. You have never seen such an
extraordinary multitude; tens of thousands of children, who pay one
anna each, crowding round the place endeavouring to get an entrance. I
do wish you were here to see the unusual activity reigning in the town
and the excitement we have caused."
It was the novelty of the thing that gave importance to this
tournament; the idea has since been carried out in many stations with
marked success. It is interesting to note that such a gathering has
also an indirect value; it promotes camaraderie between different
branches of the service, and shows how much pleasure may be provided to
both competitors and on-lookers by what was essentially "soldiering" in
its inception.
{126}
In _The Times of India_ we read:
"At the close of the Commander-in-Chief's speech three ringing cheers
were given for His Excellency and a similar number for
Brigadier-General Gatacre. The Commander-in-Chief having then left the
arena, the troops left the ground with bands playing, the men-of-war's
men as a special and well-deserved honour being escorted to the Apollo
Bunder by a regimental band, and followed by a large crowd of
civilians. Several of the troops in camp on the Oval visited the
flagship H.M.S. _Bonaventure_, and the turret-ship _Magdala_ yesterday
morning, while others were taken for a cruise in the harbour, a number
of the up-country native troops being taken on a visit to inspect the
local cotton mills.
"The work of demolishing the enclosure and removing the plant has
already begun, and to-day the majority of the troops will be _en route_
for their up-country stations, many of them taking back prizes and
other mementoes of the well-organised, well-managed, and finest
military display and gathering of its kind ever held in the East."
As soon as it was all over Gatacre took ten days' leave to Calcutta,
where he was welcomed with surprise and pleasure by his friends of the
other side.
{127}