1897
THE PLAGUE
In the Report issued by the Bombay Plague Committee of 1897 it is shown
that 27,597 persons died of that disease between August 8, 1896, and
June 30, 1897; while the total mortality from all causes for the same
period was 45,886. This is more than one-twentieth of the normal
average population given as 850,000.[1]
[1] See Chart 3, issued with the _Report on the Bubonic Plague_, by
Brigadier-General W. F. Gatacre, C.B., D.S.O., 1897.
When the disease first declared itself, the Press and its volunteer
correspondents showed extraordinary ingenuity in denying its existence,
in attempting to discount the seriousness of the situation and
inventing euphemisms by which to describe the "glandular fever." But
the authorities responsible for the health of the city appreciated the
gravity of the prospect. The Municipality appointed a special
sub-committee to investigate the causes of the epidemic and to carry
out measures for its suppression; and Mr. Haffkine, the bacteriologist,
was requisitioned from Calcutta to identify the bacillus. By the {162}
end of October the accommodation available in the Municipal Hospital
for infectious diseases was lamentably inadequate. Customs officers in
foreign ports took alarm and imposed quarantine on all vessels from
Bombay Port. Natives of all classes were terror-stricken, and many
families fled up-country. Thousands daily streamed over the two
causeways that connect the Island of Bombay with the mainland; vast
crowds assembled at the Bunders and the railway-stations in their haste
to get away by sea and rail. Before January was out, half the
inhabitants had escaped, for it has been shown that the population fell
from 797,000 on December 8 to 437,000 on February 8. At the same time
the mortality reached alarming figures, showing 4,559 in December and
6,189 in January in excess of the normal death-rate duly corrected.
Although January is the coolest and pleasantest month of the year, it
proved the most disastrous; the outbreak reached its climax on the 15th
and 16th, on which days 344 and 345 fatal attacks were recorded.
The fires that burn inside the high walls that bound the Charni Road
sent up a thicker smoke and a more suggestive stench than ever before.
The price of wood for funeral pyres went up; in some cases Hindus
consented to bury their dead, because they could not afford to buy the
necessary timber. On January 18, 1897, an article appeared in _The
Times of India_ seriously discussing the supply of vultures then
inhabiting the Towers of Silence. The writer concludes {163} with the
quaint phrase: "There are now nearly 400, the number being ample, even
with the high death-rate now existing in the Parsee Community."
[Illustration: Hindu burning-ghat]
The General Officer Commanding was fully alive to the dangerous and
insanitary condition of some of the older parts of the town. For the
greater security of his household he took an airy house on Malabar
Hill, instead of inhabiting the official residence in the Marine Lines.
He further arranged for the Marine Battalion, which forms the permanent
garrison of Bombay, to leave their antiquated huts in the same road and
go out under canvas. Two English ladies living in the Marine Lines
caught the plague, but fortunately both recovered.
[Sidenote: A white man dies]
The European colony were profoundly distressed on hearing of the death
of Surgeon-Major Robert Manser on January 6, 1897. He was First
Physician of the Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy Hospital, and Professor at the
Grant Medical College. It was said at first that pneumonia was the
cause; but when Nurse Joyce, who had been attending him, died on the
following day, suspicions were aroused, and the bacteriological
examination established the connection between plague and pneumonia.
Early in February, under a pseudonym, the General published two
carefully reasoned and suggestive articles in _The Times of India_. In
the first he pointed put that the existence of the plague and the
consequent exodus of the {164} population afforded an excellent
opportunity of carrying out extensive improvements in the housing and
sanitation of the worst parts of the city, and in acquiring official
control over the disposal of the dead. In the second he called
attention to the inadequacy of the hospital accommodation to meet even
the present demand, and boldly handles the question of finance, saying:
"What is a lakh or ten lakhs of rupees where the prosperity of Bombay
is concerned? The question is not one for Bombay to haggle over. The
plague has become a thing of Imperial importance, Her Majesty takes a
deep interest in it, and the necessary funds must be found. But the
Government of India will want to see some exhaustive efforts on our
part; they will expect an amount of thoroughness in combating the
disease which up to the present we have not shown."
After this appeal the writer goes on to suggest that a hospital should
be established in Government House, Parel, a large mansion which had
been the Governor's residence in the time of Sir James Fergusson, and
had since been discarded in favour of a more breezy site on Malabar
Point.
[Sidenote: Official thanks]
The municipality took the hint and voted funds. Lord Sandhurst
responded readily and offered his "country seat" for the purposes of a
Special Plague Hospital, and the General came forward officially, and
promised to see to the equipment of the wards, and to provide doctors,
orderlies, attendants, etc., from the troops under his command. His
call for volunteers met with {165} the same ready response; for nurses
he applied to the various Roman Catholic Convents in the neighbourhood;
and expended a special donation from Lady Sandhurst in making the
Sisters' quarters as comfortable as possible, and in fitting up a
little Oratory for them. In ten days 150 beds were ready, and by the
erection of matting huts in the large compound accommodation could be
quickly provided for several hundred more.
The following paragraphs, taken from a letter from the Government of
Bombay to the Government of India, dated February 23, 1897, foreshadow
the policy which was adopted a few days later:
"3. To General Gatacre the thanks of His Excellency the Governor in
Council are in a special degree due, both for the offer of assistance
and for the energy he has thrown into the undertaking. He has spared
himself no trouble, and the result will be an unquestionable benefit to
the city.
"5. I may add that His Excellency the Governor in Council anticipates
great indirect benefit from a measure which brings the Military in
touch with the Civil authorities in organising measures for preventing
the spread of the plague, for it is not improbable that the Civil
authorities may before long be driven to seek considerable assistance
at the hands of the Military."[2]
[2] Government Orders: General Department No. 1481/934 P. Bombay
Castle, March 16, 1897.
It was evident that the Governor regarded the situation as one which
called for combined effort and extraordinary measures. He also {166}
realised that if such an undertaking as stamping out the plague before
the monsoon broke was to have any chance of success, there must be
central control and central responsibility. He wanted a man endowed
equally with the administrative capacity to conceive a comprehensive
plan of action, and the executive sagacity to carry it out with success.
[Sidenote: The Gatacre Committee]
Lord Sandhurst, having decided to execute what amounted to a "coup" in
its startling supersession of all the traditions of the civil,
municipal, and military services, sent for Gatacre as the strongest man
whose services he could command, asked him to name his own committee,
and to frame in his own words the instructions under which he was to
act, and the powers with which he was to be invested. There can be no
doubt that the Governor himself contributed enormously to the good
results achieved by the Plague Committee by the splendid freedom from
control which he allowed its Chairman, and the manner in which he put
every department of Government--civil and municipal--at his disposal,
and then let him work out his own system unhampered by any question of
custom or finance.
Gatacre realised to the full that he was making himself personally
responsible for the success of the undertaking. In a confidential
letter he writes:
"The Government of Bombay has given me its thanks, and I have been
appointed chairman {167} of the committee to stamp out the plague.
Lord Sandhurst sent for me, and asked me whom I would like to assist
me, and I took Snow, Municipal Commissioner--he is the head of an
enormous department and controls the municipality, which thus falls
under me--James, an executive engineer of the municipality, an
energetic man with an enormous staff of engineers and workmen--Dr.
Dimmock, who is a sound man and has energy. I have made Cahusac
secretary. I have been told that money is no object, but that I am to
stamp out the plague. They have passed an Act directing all to carry
out _any order_ I like to issue, so if I fail it will be my own fault;
but I do not intend to fail. We shall have much opposition, as this
gives me powers over all except the Governor and his Councillors.
* * * * *
"I wish they had handed me over this business in December, when I first
came down; it would never have got out of Bombay. It has now become a
most serious question, and has extended to the whole of India."
We have to thank Dr. Dimmock[3] for an account of the first meeting of
the Committee.
[3] Lieut.-Colonel H. P. Dimmock, M.D., I.M.S.
"We began at once to decide on sites for plague hospitals. One
question that was asked was, What sort of disease was plague? In those
days one knew very little about it, for the bacillus had not been
discovered. I tried to explain as much as was known, and finished my
remarks with words to the effect that whatever the special infection
might be, it seemed to be deadly and certainly contagious, and that we
need none of us expect 'to come out alive.' 'Well,' said the {168}
General, with a smile, 'we can't think about that; we've only got to
stop it, so let's get to work.'
"One must consider that at the time plague was such an appalling and
mysterious disease that even the doctors feared for their lives each
day, though it was their business to face it. How much more awful the
invisible foe must have seemed to a layman, and still more to one who
had to lead the attack on it as he did most cheerfully and
energetically without experience of the ways of infectious diseases!"
The first step was to surround the city with a cordon to put a stop to
the spread of the infection up-country. This could be the more easily
and effectually carried out because Bombay City is built on an island.
A police guard was posted on the Sion and the Mahim Causeways, where
the road is carried over the water by long bridges, and at a ford
available at low water; a foot-track along the main water-supply was
boarded up; and the two railway-stations and all the Bunders were
watched by inspection parties.
[Sidenote: Special hospitals]
Within the city the principle was laid down that all persons suffering
from the plague must be brought into hospital. This involved two
departments of labour; the first was to provide hospital accommodation,
the second to enforce the handing over of the patients.
To meet one of the manifold objections put forward by the population to
the use of hospitals, a system was started by which each community
should have its own building or camp. This disposed of many
insuperable difficulties as to {169} the attendance on the sick, the
preparation of food, etc.; and so much did this concession to their
peculiar prejudices please the more enlightened communities, that their
leaders came in person to the General and offered to run hospitals for
their respective brotherhoods at their own expense. Such offers were
willingly accepted, but control over these locations was rigidly
maintained in the hands of the Committee. Indeed, so rapid was this
demand for special accommodation for each sect, that--
"A scheme of hospital organisation was designed, a special equipment of
staff, stores, furniture, and appliances being drawn on a ready basis,
suitable to any pressing demands.... So that on an order being issued
by the Committee for the institution of a hospital of any proportion,
the District Medical Officer had merely to follow the orders laid down
for a hospital of the size indicated.... Copies of the plan and
equipment of a one-section hospital (twenty beds) was accordingly
issued to the various executive departments of the Committee, and to
all contractors, with directions to regulate the constructions of
buildings and the supply of stores, medicines, and furniture
accordingly."[4]
[4] _Report_, p. 22.
Within one month of its creation the Committee were running forty-three
hospitals, of which fifteen were Government and twenty-eight were
special private institutions such as have been described. In every
detail of the internal management of these private {170} institutions
the will of the Dictator prevailed. He was always a welcome visitor;
he took the keenest interest in the symptoms as they developed in any
exceptional cases, and he made sure that those peculiarly Christian
principles should be upheld which decree that there should be no
distinction of caste in any one "jamat," no difference made between
high and low, rich and poor, and that all the sick should receive equal
attention.
But it was one thing to provide model buildings and the best of
attendance, and another to persuade the relatives of the sick to bring
in the patients. At the same time the segregation of the sick was the
basis of the whole policy, and it was to secure this end that the
house-to-house visitation was instituted.
While the mere idea of such a thing inflamed the minds of the writers
in the Native Press, in practice the people soon found out that every
consideration was shown. An appeal was made to the native gentlemen
who were Justices of the Peace to attend at such visitations, and this
had an excellent effect. White men did not enter the houses unless
opposition was made; in the street a small body of troops was employed
as a show of authority, but these were mostly drawn from the Native
regiments. In no case was violence needed; the only pressure used was
the personal presence of the General, the force of his will and
character, the persuasion of his words uttered in their own tongue; the
people grew to have faith in his promises, to {171} appreciate his
devotion to their interests, and to respect his methods.
[Sidenote: Drives the brake]
The Fire Brigade brake was commandeered to carry the search-parties.
The rendezvous was at daybreak; every one had to be punctual, for the
General waited for no one. The Committee was accompanied by officials
with special knowledge of the quarter to be visited, and there were
always a few lady-doctors present.
Supplies were taken in tiffin-baskets, but, says Dr. Dimmock, "the
General's spare diet was a subject of wondering comment; some bread and
dried fruit and a bottle of soda water was his usual breakfast, and his
untiring energy on such diet was marvellous."
The General himself drove the brake, and one or other of the Plague
Committee staff would sit on the box in order to give him an
opportunity of discussing urgent matters.
On one occasion in April such a search-party was organised for an
essentially Mahommedan quarter, where some opposition might be
expected. The locality was occupied by Memons, Sunni Mahommedans, and
opulent merchants hailing from Cutch. The usual military precautions
were taken, and house-to-house visitation was in full swing. In a
five-storied building in Kambekar Street occupied by rich Memons a
plague case was discovered on the third floor. The patient was a Memon
boy aged twenty, belonging to the rich family of Noorani, who were also
the "Patels of the Moholla," _i.e._ leaders of the neighbourhood. The
usual {172} certificate was made out, in the name of the patient, Haji
Ayub Haji Abdul Rahim Noorani, by the sub-divisional medical officer,
and the family were informed that the young man would be removed to the
hospital. To this they objected, and already a sullen crowd had
assembled outside. In Mahommedan quarters the crowd is essentially
male, with an admixture of children; the women, being "Purdah Nashins,"
do not show themselves.
On being informed of the trouble, the General, who was a little farther
up the street, immediately repaired to the spot, speaking conciliatory
words to the crowd as he made his way to the third floor and entered
the room. Here he selected the oldest member of the family and "very
courteously" discussed with him the necessity for the removal of the
youth to hospital. In the meantime the new hand ambulance (which was a
litter on a pair of bicycle wheels, worked out on an idea of the
General's) reached the door; but the sight of it upset the parents so
much that they withdrew their reluctant consent to Haji's removal.
Recollecting that he was dealing with a wealthy family, the General
suggested that they should send for one of their own carriages.
Impervious to any notions of infection, but highly conscious of their
local standing, the family readily consented to this compromise.
Having won his point, the General made his way down to the street,
where the crowd was now very dense: he whispered to a native inspector,
slipping a few rupees into his {173} hand. In a few minutes there was
a vast scramble for sweets which were flying in every direction; under
cover of this bombardment the patient was successfully carried off in
an English brougham drawn by richly caparisoned white horses.[5]
[5] Recollections furnished by Mr. Louis Godniho, Deputy Officer; see
also _Advocate of India_, April 3, 1897.
[Sidenote: The Seedee king]
On another occasion the quarter known as Kazipura was selected for the
morning's search work. Kazipura is inhabited by all classes of
Mahommedans, including the African Negroes or Seedees. On the arrival
of the brake the party broke up and entered various dwellings. One
party, consisting of two members of the Committee and Dr. Sorab
Hormusjee (to whom I am indebted for this story, and who held the
appointment of Lady Assistant to the Health Officer), came across a
Seedee boy aged eighteen years, whom they declared to be suffering from
the plague. The mother denied this, saying her son was only tired,
having been dancing all night, and, supported by some male relatives,
angrily asserted that she would not allow his removal.
[Illustration: House-to=house visitation.]
Within a few minutes the streets and alleys were swarming with Seedees
armed with sticks, and a serious riot seemed inevitable. But
fortunately the Chairman was on the spot; he instructed Mr. Vincent,
the Police Commissioner, to send for the Seedee King Makanda. The
arrival of the Great Man and his Queen Sophie had a magic effect; a few
words of explanation {174} from the Chairman, a few words from the King
to the sick man's mother, won the day for the cause of law and order.
The third story that I have selected is told by Miss Remy, a nursing
sister of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem. As her contribution
describes the horrible dens that were daily visited I give her
recollections in her own words:
"When plague broke out in Bombay I gave up my post for a time (as
Matron of a Maternity Hospital attached to a College School) and was
selected by the Plague Committee to organise and take charge of the
Grant Road Hospital till such time as the Roman Catholic Sisters of the
Order of Jesus and Mary were able to take up the work as they had
promised. From this hospital--the Police Hospital, where I afterwards
worked--I was taken out on several occasions by the Plague Committee in
their house-to-house visitation. The people have strong prejudices
against natives of another caste, and especially Europeans, approaching
too near their places, so that in examining the houses it was necessary
to respect the feelings of the owners in this regard. The rooms are
usually 10 ft. by 10 ft.; the floor sometimes is of clay beaten down
till it is firm and smooth and covered with a layer of liquid cow-dung,
which quickly dries, forming a clean and neat surface; this is renewed
at short intervals of a week or so. The internal arrangements are very
simple; the cooking-place, usually surrounded by shining brass and
copper pots, occupies a corner of the room, a low charpoy or cot in
another, bundles of firewood, cow-dung cakes used as fuel, are stocked
in odd recesses with a collection of dried fish and grain. General
{175} Gatacre, always courteous and tactful, was most careful in
observing their prejudices. He always asked me to go in first and
report if any of the occupants were suffering from plague or other
causes, and also as to the condition of their room. The General would
follow closely, and as the door opened to admit me he would look into
the room. If it was particularly clean and cared-for, he invariably
rewarded the occupants with a rupee or so as encouragement. He was
quick to see things, patient with details, and possessed of a tact and
eloquence which smoothed over many difficulties that came in the way of
our work. He was particularly fond of little children, and I have
often seen him pat their heads and slip some coppers into their hands
as we went along visiting the different tenements. One incident I
remember very well. On leaving the neighbourhood of Ripon Road, after
visiting a long row of _chawls_, we were followed by a crowd of
children, about fifty or more. Suddenly on turning a corner we came
upon a sweet shop. The General went up to the stall and, to the utter
amazement and indignation of the owner, seized several trays of the
sweets and scattered them on the pavement, when there was a general
scramble and loud hurrahs. Before the man could remonstrate Sir
William took a handful of loose silver from his pocket and placed it on
the counter. This more than compensated the man for the sweets, and he
smiled and salaamed."
During this systematic visitation hovels were discovered where white
men had never before penetrated; scores of houses were boarded up and
labelled "U.H.H.," which stood for "Unfit for human habitation."
{176}
In _The Times of India_ of March 31, 1897, we have a graphic but, alas!
lengthy account of the visit of the Committee to a Mahommedan quarter
to sanction buildings selected for use as hospitals. We read: "When
the General's brake was sighted they lustily cheered him." On this
occasion a feast and a vote of thanks was part of the programme.
"Tea and coffee were provided by the members of the party. When all
were seated, Khan Bahadur Cassum Mitha rose and said in Hindustani:
"'General Gatacre,--We have been much honoured by your visit to this
place to-day. Since you have assumed the command of affairs relating
to this dire pestilence, we have learnt to assure ourselves of our
safety. We are convinced that you honour our religious feelings, and
we believe that what you do is for our own good. You have perhaps no
idea of the esteem and respect you command among us. You have won over
our hearts by your noble demeanour, and on the altar of your popularity
we are ready to sacrifice everything.... In you, General, we find a
saviour, and we thank Lord Sandhurst for sending you among us. You may
count on our assistance at any and every moment. Our lives and our
money will be always at your command.'"[6]
[6] See _Bombay Gazette_, March 31, 1897.
[Sidenote: Opposition]
As if in protest against the compliance of the great majority to the
wishes of Government, one sect of Mahommedans, the Sunnis, showed
themselves very refractory. After much elaborate {177} letter-writing
the Headmen sent a Mr. Raikes to lay before the Plague Committee the
objections to their proceedings. At the conference that was arranged
the delegate was heckled into expressing himself clearly: "'It really
comes to this,' he said; 'they ask you to minimise as far as you
possibly can the great objections they have to the removal of the sick
by not doing it at all.'"[7] To which the Chairman seems to have
rapped out: "That is absolute nonsense!"--to the great amusement of his
supporters. But though his words were pointed, his conduct was
deliberate, and his patience faultless, for in a leading article we
read:
[7] See _Advocate of India_, March 31, 1897.
"The correspondence between General Gatacre and the representatives of
the Sunni Mahommedans will satisfy every one that the community has
been treated with extraordinary patience. The Chairman of the
Committee has given two long interviews to the Sunni leaders, who have
had professional assistance in placing their views before him. He has
listened patiently and respectfully to every argument and objection
that has been put before him; they have gone to the Governor with a
letter which put their case at its strongest; and once again they have
gone back to General Gatacre, who once more, in replying to their
solicitors, treats them with a kindness and a consideration which sheer
stubbornness seldom meets with in this world."[8]
[8] See _Times of India_, April 7, 1897.
The show of troops was slightly increased {178} when the recalcitrant
quarter was visited, but this precaution had due effect, and no
violence took place.
After about six weeks of unsparing toil and incredible devotion, it was
becoming clear that the labours of all those concerned were not in
vain: the returns were showing a steady and unmistakable decline. But
this had not been accomplished without very great persistence on every
side. The General writes:
"I hope I shall hold out all right, but the strain is pretty severe;
some of my Committee are feeling it, but have not broken down yet. We
are working from fourteen to eighteen hours in the day, which does not
give me much time for writing."
That he won the loyal support of all his colleagues is clear from the
following letter:
"... The General is keeping very well; the amount of work he gets
through is tremendous. There is one thing about him that has struck me
very much, and that is the extraordinary personal influence he quite
unconsciously exerts over the men working under him. A Surgeon-Colonel
H---- has been sent down from Chitral for plague duty here, and he
dislikes the whole thing. He had congenial work up there, a lovely
climate, snow and frost, a nice house with a lovely garden; and he has
come down to work in the slums of Bombay at the hottest time of the
year, with no friends in the place, and a most enervating climate. He
says that if any one else but General Gatacre was at the head of
affairs, he would resign to-morrow. {179} Major B---- is the same.
His staff appointment will be up in October; he has eight months' leave
due to him, and would have taken it if there had been any other General
here. But he knows how busy General Gatacre is with the plague, and
feels that it would be hard on him to get a new A.A.G. just now. And
Major B---- is a hard-headed man, with, one would think, little
sentiment about him. But I could give you many instances. Captain
C---- of the Bombay Infantry, who is working as a secretary in the
office, is only staying because General Gatacre is the Chief.... The
General had a great dinner last month for all the medical men in
Bombay, and as they refrained from discussing the plague, or their
methods of treating it, it went off very well. Last week we had
another dinner of twenty-four, to which all the Russian, German, and
Austrian scientists and all the foreign consuls were invited; it was a
decidedly interesting evening."
On April 30 the General writes:
"... We are still struggling with the plague, and though it is milder
in Bombay it is still dreadfully severe in the provinces all around.
We have now been put on to take up the provinces, and it is like paying
the labourers of an enormous town when our pay-day comes on.... The
work and worry here is unceasing, and I really don't know when we shall
be out of the wood."
And again a fortnight later:
"The climate, though good for Bombay, is beastly, and there is still
much sickness about. {180} We lost a nurse, Miss Horne, ten days ago,
of plague. In Bombay the mortality has come down to nearly normal, but
in Cutch-Mandvi it is still very bad; at the latter place, with a
population of 10,000 actually present, they have lost 2,000 in the last
fortnight! I am just beginning to write the Report; it will take about
two months, I think. We trust the disease will not break out again
during the rains, but people know so little about it that it is
impossible to say."
Writing on May 21, 1897, he says:
"... Our work has not lightened much here yet, although the disease is
under control. You see the same organisation must exist to prevent the
plague breaking out again as up to date has existed for controlling it.
There is much plague in the districts, and people are trying to get
back to Bombay. Many come in with the disease on them, but we catch
them all at the stations and Bunders, and put them in hospital. Now we
are stopping every one coming in and detaining them eight days, to make
sure they have not got the disease."
In India that year the Queen's birthday was to be celebrated on June
22. Lord Sandhurst invited the General to his official dinner on the
occasion, and urged him to come to Poona for a few days' change; but
the latter declined the kind invitation, being fearful lest
disturbances should occur in Bombay owing to the general holiday.
[Sidenote: A murderous assault]
That very night, at Poona, as the guests were returning after the
dinner, a horrible outrage was {181} perpetrated. In the darkness
armed men climbed on to the back of two open carriages and shot the
officers riding in them. Mr. Ayerst, who with his wife was in the
first carriage attacked, died on the spot, being shot through the head.
It was afterwards shown that there was no ill-feeling against this
young officer, and that he was the victim of a mistake. In the
carriage immediately following, Mr. Rand, a political officer who had
been acting as Chairman of the Poona Plague Committee, was driving
alone; he was shot through the lungs, and though at one time there
seemed some hope of his recovery, he succumbed about ten days later.
It was well known that Gatacre had been receiving threatening
letters[9]; violent language of this sort had even appeared in the
papers. It was therefore natural that a very strong wave of sympathy
and resentment at such an outrage should have been felt in Bombay,
where the measures likely to provoke such personal retribution had
necessarily been more drastic.
[9] See _Advocate of India_, April 13, 1897.
The General writes on June 25:
"... Our dinner was a success, but the affair at Poona has rather upset
people; it appears that the people there have been determined to have
the blood of the Plague Committee, and accordingly arranged to
assassinate them. Rand I fear must die; Ayerst, who was shot by
mistake, was killed at once; L----, who was on the Committee as
segregation officer, was wanted, but the assassin mistook Ayerst for
{182} him. I trust the man will be discovered; we know who the
instigator is, but it will be difficult to prove it. I wish I was on
the job. I went to Poona yesterday, and saw the place, and had a long
talk with Brewin, head detective; he seems fairly confident he will
trace the murderers and bring the crime home to the suspected
instigators."
[Sidenote: Farewell]
Though telegrams conveying the welcome news had reached him a fortnight
earlier, it was not till the end of June that Bombay learnt that its
General Officer Commanding had been appointed to the command of a
Brigade at Aldershot, and would shortly be leaving the scene of his
labours. The city had now been pronounced free from plague, hospitals
were being closed on all sides, and employés of all ranks were daily
dismissed. The Gatacre Committee had succeeded in stamping out the
plague, and a chorus of gratitude arose towards the man to whose
courage and determination the success of the attempt was mainly
attributed. Every community wished to present him with a token of its
recognition, while all combined to entertain him "on a very grand
scale."[10] Leave was obtained from the Government of India to accept
five testimonials, which, being cased in the silver cylinders familiar
to the Anglo-Indian, are as beautiful as their contents are unique.
Two of these offerings were a source of special pride and pleasure to
their recipient. The casket {183} presented by "The Citizens of
Bombay" contains a scroll of parchment on which sixty signatures
testify that all the representative men in the city, Christian,
Mussulman, and Hindu, all merged their differences in their unanimous
appreciation of the brilliant qualities and self-sacrificing devotion
of the Chairman of the Bombay Plague Committee. A silver box presented
by the seven officers who had so loyally served on the Committee
throughout those four arduous months was also specially prized. But I
am very sure that he would wish me not to omit a record of the offering
of the Plague Staff, native clerks, engineers, and workmen of all
classes; or of the touching farewell accorded him by the Sisters of the
Cross at the Bandora Convent.
[10] See _Bombay Gazette_, July 6, 1897, and _Times of India_, July 22,
1807.
On July 2, one week before he sailed for home, he writes:
"I am looking forward to getting back to life again; I have been buried
in a plague-pit for the last few months."
{184}