CHAPTER VIII
1894-1895
BOMBAY
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 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 The canvas walls of the tent had been replaced by Venetian shutters; the doors were made of cotton stuff stretched on a frame, which left a large space above and below the eye-line.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, 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.
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 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 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.
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 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."
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.
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; 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 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:
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 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.
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. 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:
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 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.
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 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 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.
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 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.
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.