CHAPTER VII
1890-1894
POONA
Brigadier-General Gatacre took over the duties of Adjutant-General to the Bombay Army on November 25, 1890, under Sir George Greaves as Commander-in-Chief.
His deputy in the office was surprised to find that Gatacre was not so regular in his attendance as might have been expected, and noticed other signs that suggested that he was unhappy and had something on his mind. His colleague was quite right. Gatacre was indeed passing through a severe and prolonged trial, one about which he could take no one into his confidence. To his highly strung nature, in which the loftiest integrity was allied to the tenderest human feelings, a blow such as had fallen upon him must have wrung every fibre, and there is no doubt that he writhed under it.
In adversity
It was about this time that the General was bitten in the hand by a jackal that was said to be mad. His nerves being already unduly strained, the poison (or the thought of it) got such a hold on him that the howling of the jackals kept him awake at night, and a terror even possessed him of their coming in through the open windows. So real was this obsession that he ordered iron railings to be fixed outside, and by thus convincing himself of the impossibility of such a thing, he gradually conquered the fantasies of his sick brain, triumphed over his sleeplessness, and reaped the benefit to his general health.
What was really preying on his mind was not generally known till his friends read of the dissolution of his marriage. Gatacre was the petitioner, and there was no defence. This news gave rise to a strong feeling of sympathy with a man whose probity was unquestioned, and whose attractive appearance and genial manners had already made him a favourite in Poona. There was in Gatacre a depth of faithful affection which nothing could kill; the generosity and kindliness of his judgment forbad his harbouring any thought of blame, and he clung with unaltered loyalty to memories of the past.
Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove.
It is from this time that we find him working with an acharnement, with a restless and passionate self-obliteration that became an unconquerable habit. Ambition stepped in to revive his interest in his profession, and the service of his neighbour provided occupation for his leisure hours.
1890-4
Poona is not only the Headquarters of the Bombay Army, but for a good part of the year it is the residence of the Governor of the Bombay Presidency. In the hot weather both civil and military officials retire to the country life of Mahabuleshwar, and in the cold weather spend a few weeks in Bombay City. Thus all the year round there was a succession of official and social engagements; every one had rather more to do than there was time for in office hours, and every one wanted to put in an appearance at such social functions as appealed to his particular tastes. Gatacre not only took part in all these events, but was the prime mover and organiser of everything that went on—no committee of management, no horse-show, gymkhana, or display was complete without his name. Amongst other details the programmes engaged his particular attention. He had a special chalk which, when used on prepared paper, could be reproduced as a lithograph by a very simple process. He rapidly gained great facility in the use of this medium, and there is now quite a remarkable series of exquisite drawings that were thus reproduced. A lively sense of humour animates some of these efforts, more especially those that did duty as hunt-cards. The card was the size of foolscap paper; each season had a new drawing, but all were variations of the study of foxes, while words were put into their mouths expressing the sentiments of the quarry towards Doctor Bull's hounds.
A.G.
The position of Adjutant-General is one of great influence, and this influence Gatacre invariably used to promote the cause of uprightness and true benevolence. There was no red-tape about him; he was always accessible to all ranks, and instantly ready to deal with any emergency.
On one occasion the friends of a young officer wanted to get him out of the way of temptation—the Adjutant-General detailed him to some outlying station. On the other hand, a young cavalry officer from Mhow, who was engaged to a lady in Poona, found himself unexpectedly detained at Headquarters by the A.G. If an officer and his family on their arrival were unable to find quarters, the A.G. would take the whole party in, regardless of any previous acquaintance. In the club one day Gatacre noticed the name of a young officer on the Headquarter Staff posted up as having failed to pay his club account. He sent for the officer and paid his bill, choosing to come himself to the rescue rather than that a young fellow in an honourable post should suffer disgrace. Thus many an unrecorded kindness, many a deed of silent sacrifice, showed the natural generosity of his heart, showed his freedom from any taint of bitterness. Instinctively and deliberately he endeavoured to obliterate his own sorrow by adding to the happiness of others, and in this way surrounded himself with an atmosphere of esteem and gratitude which reacted powerfully for his own benefit. The officer who succeeded him as Adjutant-General had worked in his office for some time, and he now writes that the thought of him revives the "deep impression of what a dear, good fellow he was, and how hospitable and kind."
1891
Gatacre's efforts at hospitality once gave rise to much amusement on the one part and dismay on the other. He usually kept but a small staff of servants, and dined at the club of Western India; but when there was some special gaiety going on, he would fill his house with guests from the outlying stations, and instruct his bearer to engage a good cook and other servants for the necessary period. At the Poona Race Week one year Gatacre's friends were complimenting him on the excellence of his arrangements, and stories were related as to the enormities of which native cooks are sometimes guilty in the preparation of the Sahib's food, and of their troublesome ways in general. One lady was particularly eloquent on the annoyance of having had to part with her khansama only a few days before in order that he might go and nurse his wife, who was dying. Some one suggested a tour of inspection round Gatacre's house, which he had held up as a model establishment. When the party reached the cook-house, I leave you to imagine the lady's surprise and amusement at finding her own truant cook installed for the nonce in her host's kitchen!
His easy camaraderie of manner was so remarkable that a friend once asked Gatacre whether he had ever found that people took advantage of it, and treated him with undue familiarity, to which he replied that he had never known them try. He defended himself with a dry and subtle humour. Assuming an impenetrable blandness of manner, he would on occasion utter sarcasms so veiled that some men could scarcely tell whether he was in earnest or not. He was never angry, but he had a command of quiet language that made his remarks as stinging as they were humorous. The man on the pillory would feel the sting, and the onlooker would see the humour.
When another friend asked him why he was taking so much trouble over a matter that appeared outside the sphere of his interests, and scarcely worthy of the attention that he was lavishing on it, his reply seemed weighted with reproof as he said: "I don't think I ever knew what the meaning of the word trouble was."
Goes on tour
In the province of Bombay the inspections take place in the cold weather between November and March; a spell of hot weather then precedes the break of the monsoon early in June. The rains last till September, and are followed by another spell of hot weather, till the air cools down again to quite a pleasant temperature in November. The first inspection tour arranged for the end of 1891 included a visit to the regiments quartered at Kamptee in the Central Provinces. Kamptee was the Headquarters of the Nagpur District, to the command of which Brigadier-General John Gatacre, C.B., had been recently gazetted. To those who have heard of "inspection fever" (and even the best officers are not always immune), it will be obvious that the station must have been in rather a commotion at the idea of a visit from the Commander-in-chief only four days after the arrival of a new General Officer Commanding. But the new General was well known and trusted in Kamptee, for he had already been in the station for three years while in command of his regiment.
A railway accident
Between 6 and 7 a.m. on November 5 the General was on the platform of Nagpur Station awaiting the arrival of the train, when a telegraphic message came in, saying that there had been a serious railway accident to the Chief's train about nine miles away. A message was sent back for medical assistance, and as soon as possible a break-down gang was got together, but it was nearly 11 o'clock before the relief train reached the spot. General John tells us that the sight that greeted him was more shocking than any battlefield. Eight men of the North Lancashire Regiment were killed outright, twenty-four were severely injured; a European guard, both drivers and both firemen were killed; five native passengers were also killed and eight wounded. Beyond this total of eighteen deaths, four soldiers died within the next few days in hospital. The framework of the carriages, the iron rails, and the men's rifles—everything was amazingly crumpled up and distorted.
The permanent way at this spot runs along a thirty-foot embankment. The whole train was derailed, both engines with their tenders, a horse-box, and five or six coaches had rolled to the bottom of the slope; the next carriage, in which Sir George Greaves had been travelling, was suspended half-way down the bank at an angle of 45°, the body having been completely wrenched away from the platform; and the last coach, which had been occupied by the staff officers—Gatacre, Hogg, and Leach—was hanging in the most precarious position over the edge.
It turned out that the train was unusually long and heavy that day, as it was bringing some fifty men of the North Lancashire Regiment back from Chi-Kulda, a civil hill-station in the Berars, where a few sickly men had been sent as an experiment. When the railway officials at Budnari Junction found that the three coaches set aside for the use of the Headquarter Staff had also to be attached, they feared that the engine would not be powerful enough to pull the train up a certain incline, and gave directions that a spare engine (which was meant only for local shunting work) should be put on in front. This supplementary engine was the cause of the misfortune, for the tyres of its wheels, having been mended, gave way under the unusual strain of a long journey. The front engine left the metals, and, rolling over, pulled the whole train along with it.
The great majority of the fatal cases were of course in the first two coaches, in which the soldiers were unfortunately travelling. Some (of the poor fellows suffered fearfully from scalding, over and above terrible fractures and injuries; some were so inextricably wedged in amongst the wreckage that it was not till the relief train came up with jacks and crowbars that anything could be done to relieve their excruciating sufferings. None of the staff officers were hurt, but Colonel Hogg had a narrow escape, for the end compartment, in which he had been shaving a few minutes earlier, was completely staved in by impact with the Chief's coach in front.
In the official report forwarded by Sir George Greaves we read:
"I desire to record with pleasure that the officers of the Headquarter Staff were conspicuous in their efforts to release the injured from the wreck of the train, especially Brigadier-General Gatacre, A.G., Lieutenant-Colonel Leach, Military Secretary, and Captain Peyton, A.D.C., all of whom, at considerable personal risk, worked in under the overturned engines and carriages to get at the wounded."
There were also miraculous escapes. A gymnastic sergeant was travelling in the first coach with two small dogs on his knees. Owing apparently to his trained activity, he was able to leap through the window, and thus escaped without injury from a compartment where all his companions were killed.
As soon as possible the wounded were sent on into Kamptee under the charge of their companions, and it was three o'clock before the train got back again to pick up the staff officers.
"Such good sons"
On his arrival in Kamptee a telegram was handed to Gatacre, informing him of his father's death. This was not unexpected, but for both brothers it must have added a more profound and personal sadness to the horrors with which the day had begun; and as next day they listened to the Service read over the poor young fellows who had been so suddenly struck down, their hearts must have been at Gatacre, where the same words would soon be read over the old man of eighty-six whom they had so sincerely loved and reverenced. Only a few days earlier they had sent a telegram of farewell in their joint names; and in due course had the satisfaction of hearing that it had arrived just in time to please the dying man, who murmured in response, "I thank God for such good sons."
On April 1, 1893, Lieutenant-General Sir John Hudson took over command of the Bombay Army; only two months later he was killed by a fall from his horse. The Commander-in-Chief was taking his usual ride with Colonel Leach, his Military Secretary, before breakfast on the morning of June 9, when his horse stumbled heavily, throwing Sir John forward on his head. Six weeks earlier Sir James Dormer, Commander-in-Chief in Madras, had met with his death while out tiger-shooting, so that this further catastrophe came with added force to the sister Presidency.
Gatacre had written home a few days before, saying how genial and kindly he found his new chief, with whom he was already on intimate terms. It was always a great satisfaction to him to think that the horse which had made the blunder was not one of his choosing, for Sir John had already sought his advice in the matter of getting himself provided with chargers. As chief staff officer it fell to him to make all the arrangements for the imposing ceremony that took place at 8.30 a.m. on the day following the tragedy. Lord Harris, the Governor, came down from Panchguni for the occasion. By special instructions he placed a wreath on the coffin in the name of Her Majesty the Queen, and numberless similar tributes showed the respectful sympathy of the whole army. The Guard of Honour was furnished by the 2nd Battalion Lancashire Fusiliers; all the troops in garrison, both in Poona and Kirkee, accompanied by massed bands, took part in the solemn procession. It is said that five thousand men attended the funeral, and that the whole was so admirably thought out and arranged in the short space of time that no confusion or difficulty arose at any point.
Hands over
In due course Sir Charles Nairne, R.A., became Commander-in-Chief of the Bombay Army. He was the last of the race, for during his tenure of the office its name was changed, and he handed over as Lieutenant-General Commanding the Bombay Army Corps. The office of Adjutant-General was also renamed, but that was not until after Gatacre had been succeeded by General Reginald Curteis. Sir Charles was the third Chief under whom Gatacre had served in this capacity in less than three years. But as these changes made no difference to Gatacre's loyal service, so there seems to have been no difference in the high esteem in which his seniors held him. When he relinquished his post, some eighteen months later, the same cordial regard had grown up which he always contrived to win from all those with whom he was associated either officially or socially. When I came to live in the command, about two years later, there was no household from whom I received a more genuine welcome than from Sir Charles and Lady Nairne and their personal staff.
Early in 1894 the Adjutant-General was appointed to the command of the military district that had its headquarters at Bombay.