1900-1903
BACK TO COLCHESTER
Since the Book of Job was written steadfastness in adversity has ever
been considered as a virtue of high order. Indeed, what need is there
in a Christian country to insist that want of success in the affairs of
this world is not incompatible with an unsullied conscience and a
stainless shield?
From Capetown Gatacre sent a telegram begging Lord Roberts to give some
reason for his action, and in reply received a letter which (while
declining to discuss the main issue) closes with the following sentence:
"This action, which Lord Roberts has felt it his duty to take, casts no
slur whatever upon your honour, your personal courage, your energy and
zeal, which are beyond all question."[1]
[1] For the reasons given by Lord Roberts to the War Office, see the
dispatch printed at the end of this volume, p. 286; reprinted from the
_Official History_, vol. ii. p. 614.
This was the spirit that welcomed Sir William on his arrival in
England; for he came straight home and calmly awaited the verdict of
the War Office in London.
The first to pour balm on her servant's {262} wounded spirit was Her
Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria. Gatacre reached London on May 12, and
on the 24th, in the _Birthday Gazette_, his name appeared as a
recipient of the Gold Medal of a new Order, the Kaiser-i-Hind, which
the Queen had just created for the recognition of Public Service in
India. This first distribution of the decoration had regard more
especially to services rendered in dealing with the plague and the
famine of 1897 and the following years.
Only five days after Gatacre's arrival the relief of Mafeking, after
217 days' siege, was celebrated in London with much popular rejoicing.
This uproarious joy jarred mercilessly on Sir William's mood, but the
whole country exulted, and there was no way of escape. The daily
papers too were full of South African news, so that even this source of
idle distraction carried its sting. And so it happened that when an
old friend came to call on the morning of May 24, and to inquire after
the General's health (which to most men seemed to provide an obvious
explanation of his return), he had the pleasure of informing us of the
new decoration.
On the following day Gatacre received instructions to resume command of
the Eastern District.
[Sidenote: A welcome home]
British hearts, ever loyal to brave men in distress, did not stop to
quibble over professional responsibilities; they remembered the years
of devoted service, they knew of his personal gallantry, and they
trusted time to prove their faith. Colchester struck the first {263}
note: the townspeople turned out in their thousands to cheer one whom
they knew and loved. During the drive from the station to the camp the
crowd massed in the streets was so great and so vociferous that the
wave of feeling was overwhelming, and it was with a sense of relief
that we reached our destination.
In the following June the Prince and Princess of Wales (as we then
spoke of Their present Majesties) honoured Norwich with a visit to open
the new buildings of the Jenny Lind Hospital. The whole population of
the royal borough was in the streets that lovely summer day, and made
their loyalty known in the usual way; but they did not forget to keep a
sharp lookout for the man who had come from the war, for the man who
had so lately fought in their battles; and as the cheers died away
after the royal carriage had passed out of sight, they were renewed
with deafening insistence as each voice strained to make its message of
love and esteem reach the ears of one who with his own eyes had seen
the enemy. For I believe that in those days of popular excitement over
the occupation of Pretoria, Gatacre was, to the man in the street, the
personification of a successful war that had just reached its
conclusion.
This burst of feeling, howsoever prompted, was very touching, but what
did more to encourage Sir William than any other single event was the
gracious and cordial greeting accorded to him by His Royal Highness
when, as in duty bound, the General had the honour of receiving {264}
him at Norwich Station. Her Royal Highness the Princess of Wales also
sent for me in the course of the afternoon and was pleased to use very
kindly and appreciative words about my husband's services to his
country, and her sympathy with his immediate trouble.
When in the round of annual inspections the General visited the Cadet
Corps of Bedford Grammar School, he had further evidence of his
personal popularity in the attentions showered upon him by all the boys
in the school, who insisted on dispensing with the usual mode of
traction and harnessing themselves to his carriage. It was the same
thing at Clacton, when the Lord Mayor of London opened the Essex
Agricultural Show. Sir William had been detained in his office, and
only reached the show-ground just before the luncheon assembly broke
up; the speaker within the tent was at a loss to account for an
untimely uproar. It was the crowd outside who had recognised "General
Gatacre," and, as he entered, those inside the tent took up the strain.
However gratifying such popular outbursts may be in their spontaneity,
it is the reasoned judgment of his peers that a man ultimately values.
The following telegram was received by the senior officer in the
station on the day after our return to Colchester.
"The members of the Aldershot Conservative Club are delighted to read
of the deservedly enthusiastic welcome accorded to General Gatacre
yesterday, and wish to convey through you {265} to the General their
hearty greetings upon his safe return from the seat of war. We do not
forget his services to the Empire, and we loyally reciprocate
Colchester's sentiment."
[Sidenote: Sympathy]
It was in the summer of 1900 that the call arose for more troops for
South Africa, which brought several new county Yeomanry Corps and the
Volunteer Service Companies into existence; it was Sir William's
business to promote the formation of all such corps within the nine
counties that made up the Eastern District, and to contribute in every
way to their efficiency. This brought him into personal contact with
the leading men of all parts of his command, for it will be remembered
how much public spirit was shown in the revival of interest in the
Auxiliary Forces that marked the years 1900 and 1901. I should like
here to record how helpful were the loyalty, the confidence, and I may
say the sympathy (if that word can stand for an unexpressed sentiment
where silence alone befitted the dignity of the personnel on both
sides) that he received on all sides; and how the cordial relations
established between the General and the county society of his district
encouraged him to tread patiently and hopefully the path he had traced
for himself. In many cases the official visit to some great man's
house to inspect the corps encamped in his park led to shooting visits
in the following autumn--a delightful testimony to the undiminished
power of his personal charm.
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On the other hand, those in daily converse with Sir William, both in
his office and outside, were not blind to the sustained effort on his
part that was necessary to carry him through those trying days of
eclipse. One under whom he had served in India wrote, with the insight
of true affection, for the guidance and inspiration of another:
"I feel that it is very difficult for Gatacre to face all that he has
to bear; but I feel certain that through it all he has exhibited
soldierly qualities of a high order, that must be appreciated; but his
return home will be very difficult for him to accept, and I fear he
will have no opportunity of justifying himself. You must, you know, be
in very good heart, and feel very brave for his coming."
It was very difficult for Gatacre to bear, and he never forgot
The hopes by weakness foiled, or evil fate,
The slander, the dumb heart-break, and the pain.
It was incontrovertibly the fiercest trial to which he could have been
subjected.
Those who have only known suffering when it comes shrouded in the
simple majesty of death can have no measure of the additional
bitterness of blows dealt by the hand of man, nor the torture endured
by a righteous man when his honour is affected.
Gatacre had known what it was to suffer in his private life, but then
his profession had come {267} to his assistance, and by flinging
himself with all his natural vigour into its arms for shelter and
comfort he had triumphed over his pain. In this case he had been given
a second chance, he had been allowed to be happy again. The laurels
that he had reaped doubled their value in his eyes in that there was
another to share them. But his profession at all times had a far
larger share of his heart than anything that contributed to his
pleasure. That was the way he was made; his profession was identified
with his duty, and for him there was nothing so enjoyable as those
duties which taxed his endurance and his energy. His soldiering was
all in all to him; it was his record; all he had to show; the building
that he had built with the bricks that had been served out to him. In
his own estimation he was nothing if not a soldier.
Now, recalled, rejected, the worldly hope on which he had set his heart
had turned to ashes in his hand: the ambition which had been his saving
grace in the days of tribulation was lost to him now. Was this the
guerdon for all the years of loving toil? Was this "the reward of it
all"?
Who shall say whence a man draws his reserves of strength? It seemed
to some of us that in his own dauntless character Gatacre found
unquenchable inspiration: his independence of the opinion of men, his
own intimate knowledge of the facts of the case, his untarnished record
of loyal service, and his own "triumphant endurance and conquering
moral {268} energy"--these were things of which no one could deprive
him.
I will be patient and proud, and soberly acquiesce.
[Sidenote: Hopes]
With a supreme effort of steadfastness and a resolute courage he forced
his faith in disinterested work to come to his rescue, but henceforth
he was working not to deaden the pain of outraged sensibilities, not
for his own advancement, but for the work's own sake--to forward the
cause of the army in South Africa, for the simple service of the
country. Nothing but his accumulated powers of silent endurance, his
proud indifference to his own feelings, aided by the response that his
speechless loyalty won from his daily companions, could have sustained
him through those three and a half long years while he silently and
quietly did his duty. Borrowing the words of another we may say that
"his military experience had intensified his natural horror of schism
and lukewarm co-operation, and magnanimity was a stronger force than
any personal consideration."
Now I contend that in achieving this triumph of discipline Gatacre
reached a loftier level in the sight of God and man than any to which
high appointments could have raised him; and I believe that his example
and his memory in this respect alone will outlive the story of many
battlefields, and that he will thus have transformed a story of
momentary defeat into an everlasting victory.
This attitude implied a rare simplicity and a {269} profound knowledge
of the world. He preferred to accept misconstruction and
misrepresentation rather than betray the lofty promptings of his own
soul; and he was at the same time perfectly conscious that any attempt
(even though successful in the main) to set himself right in the eyes
of the world would alienate his friends and make enemies. These words
are something more than a speculative analysis of what might have been
his frame of mind; for the latter argument was the ground of his
refusal to accept any of the several offers he received from writers
who asked his sanction for the preparation of articles throwing light
on the events in which he had taken part.
As the General recovered his balance and settled down to the routine of
his work, his natural buoyancy returned, and he once more took a
pleasure in all that went on around him. Hopes that things might work
out all right in the end arose to cheer him, and there was much to
foster such an idea.
When the South African War Commission was initiated, he hoped that this
would give him a chance to explain matters, imagined that it would be a
confidential court of inquiry, a sort of hearing in camera, where,
without insubordination or disloyalty, he would be encouraged to speak.
In May 1903 he was summoned to give evidence. On their arrival all the
witnesses are taken aside by one of the Commissioners and formally
cautioned not to say anything that might be used against them. To
Gatacre these words carried a personal meaning, though the phraseology
completely puzzled {270} him. He failed to see how anything that was
true could be so used, and could find no purpose in the warning. The
Commissioners, however, confined their attention to questions of
efficiency and other generalities, and no interest was shown in his
personal affairs. And thus this hope of salvation vanished. One touch
of character showed itself: he tells the Commissioners how he raised
companies of mounted infantry from the battalions in his command, and
goes on to say that as soon as the men had learnt to ride and to
perform their special duties, he was ordered to send them forward to
Army Headquarters, so that his own force was constantly denuded of
mounted troops. In the proof submitted for correction his reply to an
obvious question appeared as "I never complained." He struck out the
past tense, and it stands as his motto: "I never complain."[2]
[2] _South African War Commission_, vol. iii. p. 277.
[Sidenote: Departure]
Another circumstance in the last year of his command revived his hopes
of re-employment. This was a visit by the Commander-in-Chief to
Colchester and other places in the Eastern District. Everything had
gone very well, the Commander-in-Chief had expressed himself highly
satisfied with all that he had seen, and on the last day, at a garden
party at Chelmsford, the Chief Staff Officer handed on the encouraging
message that Lord Roberts had been much pleased with his visit, and
that he had remarked a higher tone amongst officers and men at
Colchester than at any other camp. This was, of {271} course, said in
private conversation, but it was taken as "inspired."
In August of the same year, 1903, when preparations were being made for
extensive manoeuvres to be held on Salisbury Plain, Gatacre was
appointed as Umpire-in-Chief of the Blue Army. This was a good omen,
for it seemed incredible that a post of such importance in the training
of the troops engaged should be given to an officer who was likely soon
to be struck off the active list, who was, so to speak, already cast.
That he had a genuine belief that his services might yet be utilised by
the State in some capacity is shown by his decision to go on half pay.
In the summer of 1903 he called on the Secretary of State for the
Colonies and asked him to consider his name for any suitable post in
that Department. I believe that he would have taken the Governorship
of any island, regardless of its size or climate, just for the love of
the service of the State--just for the pleasure of using powers that he
knew himself still to possess unimpaired.
The term of the command ran out on December 8, 1903. That he should
vacate the post without immediate prospect of re-employment was in
itself a bitterness to him, and chilled the expectations that had
contributed to the harmony of his days.
His memory hung about Colchester for many years. It was not merely
that his portrait hung in the Soldiers' Institute that he had opened,
{272} nor that he had won many extra comforts for both officers and men
in the new barracks that were built under his direction. It was more
than this; it was the weight of his name, the tradition of love and
esteem that the name revived. When the men were decorating their rooms
for Christmas 1906 they made a banner which carried these words: "To
the memory of Major-General Sir William Forbes Gatacre--one of the
best." This spontaneous tribute was set up nearly a year after his
death, and four years after he had left Colchester, a time long enough
for the reliefs to have removed all the battalions that had known him
there; but there was scarcely a regiment in the service that had not
known him somewhere in his thirteen years' service as General Officer.
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