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 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.
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 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 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.