A murderous assault

That very night, at Poona, as the guests were returning after the dinner, a horrible outrage was 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 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."

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 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: