You may talk of our Soldiers and Sailors,Of our brave Colonials too,But nothing is thought of our Nurses,With hearts so tender and true.They have suffered great hardships, and enduredThe trials that fell to their share,And so caused their names to be cherishedOn every Barrack Room Square.So give three cheers for our SistersWho've shown us what they will doTo help the cause of Old EnglandBy nursing our sick soldiers through.
You may talk of our Soldiers and Sailors,Of our brave Colonials too,But nothing is thought of our Nurses,With hearts so tender and true.They have suffered great hardships, and enduredThe trials that fell to their share,And so caused their names to be cherishedOn every Barrack Room Square.So give three cheers for our SistersWho've shown us what they will doTo help the cause of Old EnglandBy nursing our sick soldiers through.
You may talk of our Soldiers and Sailors,Of our brave Colonials too,But nothing is thought of our Nurses,With hearts so tender and true.
You may talk of our Soldiers and Sailors,
Of our brave Colonials too,
But nothing is thought of our Nurses,
With hearts so tender and true.
They have suffered great hardships, and enduredThe trials that fell to their share,And so caused their names to be cherishedOn every Barrack Room Square.
They have suffered great hardships, and endured
The trials that fell to their share,
And so caused their names to be cherished
On every Barrack Room Square.
So give three cheers for our SistersWho've shown us what they will doTo help the cause of Old EnglandBy nursing our sick soldiers through.
So give three cheers for our Sisters
Who've shown us what they will do
To help the cause of Old England
By nursing our sick soldiers through.
General Hospital, Natal,April 1901.
Our tent has filled up now—four of us in it—so we feel rather tightly packed. One of the four is a sister who has been in India, and done some camping out, so she thinks she knows all about tents and how to live in them; we rather trade on this, and when it rains we assure her she ought to go round and slack the guy-ropes in case they should shrink with the wet and pull the pegs up, as she knows so much more about how to do it than we do; or if it comes on to blow in the night we wake her up, and offer her the hammer to go round and knock in the tent-pegs!
The wind gets up so suddenly here that we have to be careful not to leave anything about that is not tethered, or it may be miles away over the veldt before we wake up.
I now have charge of a medical line of tents, and find the work very interesting, though there are many difficulties to contend with.
The Boers seem very thick in the country round; they have captured a train with 250 horses between here and H., and the other day they took 600 head of cattle from a loyal farmer only about six miles from here, and he had to fly for protection.
Some Dragoons, who have been scouring the country for some weeks, were through here the other day, and one of their poor horses fell, exhausted, near tomy tent; after a rest they got him up and went on, but soon a sergeant returned to say that he had fallen again, and they were going to shoot him, could he borrow some mules and tackle to pull his body off the path? I said, "Oh, don't shoot him—I badly want a horse, and I'll get him some gruel and brandy from the store." He said I might have him if I would look after him, or else get him shot; but when we went out we found the men had already shot the poor beast.
There are so many dead horses, mules, and oxen about that it is rather horrid walking anywhere beyond the camp, and sometimes we hear that the Boers have put a dead mule (and once we heard some dead Kaffirs) into our water supply, and it makes us rather squeamish, as we can't even get our drinking water boiled here. Some of the officer patients tell us that they have drunk nothing but boiled water all through the campaign until they came here, and now they can't get it boiled for them.
I am beginning to get papers from home, and they are much appreciated by the men, especially the six numbers of theDaily Mailthat come each week; I take one to each of my tents, and then they exchange them about. Of course they are a month old, but, for all that, they are the latest news, and heaps of men from other lines congregate to hear them read.
After much trouble I have retrieved that box of cushions sent by the Queen, and they are treasures indeed; nice big feather cushions covered in red twill, and labelled "A present from the Princess of Wales." It was a little difficult to know to whom to give them, as, of course, all the men wanted one.I am trying to give them to invalids who will go home when well enough, as they will be very useful on the voyage, and the men could hardly carry them with them on trek.
We had much excitement here early this month: one morning we were awakened at 5A.M.by the sound of big guns, and in the course of time we heard that the Boers had blown up some culverts in the night, and captured a provision train; then there was a heliograph message to say, "Heavy fighting since daybreak," and they wanted some medical officers; so two men went off with ambulances, but it seems none of our men were wounded; five or six Boers were killed, and two of their wounded were brought here: one poor chap with a shell wound of the head is not likely to live; he looked just a rough country boy in corduroys, but he has "F. J. Joubert" marked on a handkerchief, so he may be some relation of the General.
The guard of the train had a rough time, as they took away his boots, and then made him carry sacks of provisions for them up a steep kopje.
For the present, they have stopped the trains from running at night. I do think the railway men have been awfully plucky in sticking to their work, when they could never feel confident that the line was not mined.
We had orders not to go outside the camp for some days, and the C.O. went round and took notes of all the men who were fit to take a rifle if there was an attack; and of course all the men ride about armed.
We had a quiet Easter Day here. The sisters were expecting some officers of the 5th Dragoons over totea, but they did not turn up, as they had been out all night chasing Boers.
A few days later the Boers burnt a hotel and stores at Ingogo, and some troops were hurried through here to go after them, but of course they got away.
Still a great many deaths here; the other day we had four in twenty four hours; one of those who died was a doctor whom I knew slightly (he travelled up the coast with us when we first came out). He had been practising out here, so his wife was able to come and be with him, and she stayed in our camp. The poor man had heart disease. Of course he wasn't in my line, but the sister of the officers' ward had a case in the theatre, and as he had been asking for me the Lady Superintendent asked me if I would go to sit with him if I could leave my line for a bit. I managed to be with him most of the day, and he died in the evening, and I went with his wife to the funeral the next day.
The enteric line is now full, so one of my tents has been allowed to have night orderlies, and we collect the bad cases into that.
You would be amused at a "kit inspection" here: when one is proclaimed, the excitement is great, and the orderlies, almost tearing their hair, are so distracted that if the sister has any bad cases, she must nurse them herself, or understand that they will get no attention till the inspection is over! All the ward equipment, mugs, plates, buckets, brooms, &c., has to be laid out at the tent door for the officers to count. In a hospital at home, when "stock-taking" comes, you know that anything that is worn out, or damaged, or really lost, will be replaced, and you are glad of the chance of getting things made correct; but here theyassure me that things mustbecorrect, or the orderly gets fined or punished; so, to avoid this, he resorts to strategy.
As soon as the officer (with the wardmaster and orderly in attendance) has passed one tent as correct, the things may be put away again, and then comes in the help of the patients (who fully enter into the game), the most nimble trotting off with a medicine glass to one orderly who is short of that, or a bucket to another; I have known a good broom do duty for three different lines by careful dodging about.
I find one of the senior sisters here is one who applied to me when I was choosing sisters to bring out at first; but I had many to choose from, and I made no mistake in thinking others more suited for the work! Another sister whodidcome out with me has recently come up here, but she has not been very well since she came, and thinks the life here is very rough, so she is trying to get an exchange.
Sisters can get away from here only by inducing others to exchange with them; and it is not easy to make any one believe that this is a desirable station. I have not tried yet, as I want to stick to it if I can (of course I can't do much, but I can make a few men more comfortable), but most of the others are trying to exchange.
Our meat chiefly consists of trek ox, and it is so tough that it is difficult to tackle; about once a week we get skinny mutton.
The bread is all right, but several times lately the butter has not arrived, and we have to do without. We buy chocolates and biscuits at the coolie store to fill up the cracks.
The other day we had in a sick convoy that hadbeen seven days on the road, and one poor fellow was so bad with dysentery that he died an hour after they lifted him out of the ambulance; really these long days of knocking about in the ambulances seem about the worst of the hardships that the poor chaps have to put up with, especially for the very sick or the wounded. You see, most of the waggons are drawn by about sixteen mules, and sometimes they trot and sometimes they walk, but sometimes they turn really mulish and won't budge; and then, after much hauling and thrashing and shouting, they start with a great bound and go off at a gallop. They are seldom on anything that you could call a road, and are much more frequently on the rough veldt.
A man who has been badly wounded can tell you all about the day when he got knocked over—he does not care to say much about the long day in the blazing sun, when he lay thirsty where he fell before the Bearer Company came along; and then, perhaps, the dark night with frost on the ground, or rain falling; he shudders when he tells you of the groaning men who lay around him, and who gradually ceased to groan, and how he began to think the ambulance would be too late to pick him up too—but what he simply can't bear to speak about is the agony of being pitched about with a fractured bone for days in one of those waggons.
It is not so bad when the fighting is anywhere near the rail, as then the wounded are soon placed in the hospital trains, and are fairly comfortable; but the long days of travelling by waggon are terrible.
General Dartnell's column was through here the other day, and they have gone into camp about two miles from us for ten days' rest. He has about 3000men with him, and they have about filled us up with sick, while a good many went straight on board a hospital train.
Major ——, of the Commander-in-Chief's Bodyguard, was with this column, and came over to see me; his wife was in Cape Town when I was last there, and went home on theCanada. You know how particular he is about his horses, &c., at home? He drove over to see me in a very ramshackle old Cape cart with a big horse running as a pair with a rough little Boer pony. His uniform was in rags, and we did a little stitching up for him before he returned; they are having a very rough time of it.
General Hospital, Natal,May 1901.
There have been some big ructions here lately, but I think, perhaps, they may have done good in some ways.
I don't think that I told you of a difficulty with which I had to wrestle when I was on night duty, and which bothered me a good deal.
I believe it is a general rule in the Army Nursing Service that the sisters give all the medicines and stimulants; and, of course, I expected to do the same here, but when I got to the enteric line on night duty, I found that the day sister left them all to the orderlies to give in the daytime, and the night orderlies gave them in the night. Generally there were good orderlies there, who were quite to be trusted, but every now and then there were odd men on, and of course I could not be sure that the stimulants, &c., were correctly given. The day sister gave me no report of what the men were on, but it was given to the orderly.
I did not quite know what to do, but I went to the Lady Superintendent (after seeing the sister of the enteric line) and told her that if I was to be responsible that they were given, would she arrange that I was given the report, as otherwise I could not tell that everything was given as directed; but if it was right to leave it in the hands of the orderlies I wouldtryto see that it was all right, but would notbe responsible if anything went wrong. She seemed to think the day sister would not have time to give all herself (she had charge of only the one line, whereas the night sisters each had five or six lines). Anyhow, she did not do anything at all in the matter, so I just muddled on as best I could, and used always to try to be around when important medicines were due, so that I don'tthinkmuch was neglected. Then, last month, another night sister was on, who did not get on well with the orderlies, and she reported one of them for being asleep, and he promptly replied by reporting her for not doing her duty and giving the medicines, &c., so that he had to do it all.
Then came the ructions, and now the sisters have to give everything, and I believe they are going to put on a third night sister, so I think things will go more smoothly in time.
The Lady Superintendent has only once been round my line since I have had charge of it.
I had a curious case the other day that gave us a good deal of anxiety—that of a young lance-corporal, who had been bad with malaria, but was better and able to sit up in bed. I left him one night very cheery and bright, and the next morning I happened to meet the night sister as she went off duty, and she said, "Oh, Sister, I forgot to report that that lance-corporal of yours in tent 3 did not seem so well, and he was sick this morning." I thought that I would go and look at him first instead of beginning my round in tent 1, and I was shocked to find the poor boy quite unconscious, and almost pulseless. Of course I sent for the doctor and got brandy, hot bottles, &c.; the doctor thought it was all up, but he injected strychnine; he said he thought it must have been typhoidand not malaria, and that this meant perforation. Anyhow, the boy began to revive; I hardly left him all day, but now I think I may say he is out of danger; I really think it was heart trouble, perhaps embolism, but I have seldom seen a man pull round after being as nearly gone as he was.
Of course you will have heard that the poor oldTantallon Castle, the ship on which we first came out, has gone down on Robben Island. The passengers and the mails were saved, and I was rejoiced when a nice, soft little blanket arrived that my people had sent out by her; I roll myself in it inside my sheets, and am much more comfortable.
It is a curious thing that so many ships in which I have travelled have gone to the bottom: I made one trip years ago up the coast on theDrummond Castle, and went down the coast on theCourland Castle; I also went home from Tenerife on theFez—they have all gone down, and now theTantallon Castlehas shared their fate.
There was a big dance one night about three miles from here, to which twelve of the sisters went, and another night there were some theatricals. I daresay I am wrong, but somehow these festivities seem a little out of place while the war is still going on. Some of the sisters appear to think that they have come out here to have as much fun as they can get, and they talk about very little except the men they have been dancing with, and so on.
The wind has been tremendous lately, and four of the patients' tents have been blown to ribbons; we seem to spend most of our time on duty trying to keep the men's tents up (with not more of the gale than is absolutely necessary blowing round the bad cases),and most of our time off duty in attending to our own tent-pegs, &c. Of course wind here always means dust, and sometimes it seems as though the stones fly up and hit you in the face, and unless one takes great care the patients' milk is soon full of sand.
Really, if it was not that the men suffered for them, some of our difficulties would be amusing. When this hospital was a "Field Stationary" all the men had warm, grey flannel shirts; when it became a "General" they were given instead white cotton shirts and white flannel vests. That was all right at first, but recently the hospital has been enlarged, and, though there are plenty of the cotton shirts, they have run out of the flannel vests. Now the winter has begun, and we have many men in with rheumatism and chest complaints, and the tents are very cold, but the poor chaps are only given cotton shirts. I know there are plenty of the old "greybacks" in the store, but because this is now called a General Hospital they are not correct, and so cannot be issued, and the men must wait till more vests arrive! We have all fussed about it as much as we could, and we bought flannel shirts at the store for our worst cases (a man is always most grateful for an extra shirt to take with him when he goes away, so they won't be wasted), and now, at last, the old greybacks have been dealt out. At last they have got some boilers on wheels, so that we can get hot water in the tents; butwhyshould we have to wrestle so long to get things that make so much difference to the health and the comfort of the men? The Lady Superintendent is always saying that she does not know how we should have done in Ladysmith; but we all reply that we should have tried to make shift, but we can't see whywe should have to "make shift" here quite so much, with an open line to the base.
I do wonder when the war will be over: the poor Tommies are so heartily sick of it, and are beginning to try every means to get sent home; you see most of the excitement of war has pretty well worn off, and now they just have to keep on trekking about the country, destroying farms, and bringing in Boer women and children to the refugee camps. They generally collect more destitute people on the way than they reckoned for, and, as they have to feed them, the rations for the troops run short, and the men are cut down to half rations (and sometimes quarter rations); and some columns out this way have had nothing but "mealie meal" (Indian corn), and not too much of that, for some days before they got into camp. Sometimes they have been on such short rations that men have had to be punished for stealing their horses' rations of mealie meal. When they pass through a village, the first place they make for is the baker's shop, and it is very soon cleared, and you see the men going on with loaves slung around them, and rather in the way of their rifles. When you consider that they are generally marching all day in a hot sun, and that in summer the nights are often wet, and in winter they are generally frosty, and the men just have to lie down hungry on their mackintosh sheet (no tents), with their greatcoat and sometimes one blanket; that they hardly ever have a chance of shooting at a Boer, but are constantly being sniped at during the nights—is it any wonder that they are utterly weary of it all?
We have not heard so much about Boers being close around here since General Dartnell's column wentthrough, and now the sisters are generally allowed to ride again.
Our tent is the last one at this end of the camp, and when we were told that we were not to go more than a mile from the camp in any direction (except along the line) it used to be strange to walk out, after we came off duty, for a few hundred yards beyond my tent, and then sit down on a grassy ridge as it got dark and watch the heliographs flashing around, and wonder whether the little lights we saw meant our men or Boers camping out. Sometimes we used to imagine they were quite close and watching us, and used to go back to our tents feeling quite creepy, and borrowing an extra piece of string to tie up our tent door!
And then, when we heard the guns in the distance, it was always a debatable point whether it was worth getting up and dressing in case any wounded were brought in soon, but we generally decided to finish our usual allowance of hours in bed.
People are kindly sending me English papers now, both from England and passed on from Durban, and they are very much enjoyed; the men were especially delighted last week when they got hold of an old weekly edition ofThe Timesin which General Buller and General Roberts mentioned some of the regiments to which they belonged.
It is getting frightfully cold at nights; there are big icicles hanging round the water tanks, and when one of them overflowed there was quite a little sea of ice round it; the water in our tents often freezes, and it is quite difficult to break it to wash in the morning.
The night sisters are very miserable with the cold;I shall have to take my turn on night again next month, and I shall be quite sorry to give up my line, as the patients are so awfully grateful for what one can do for them, and I have nice orderlies just now.
We go to bed directly we finish dinner at night, so as to try to get warm.
General Hospital, Natal,June 1901.
Thank goodness the winter will soon be over. I have never felt anything like the keenness of the cold up here.
On the whole, things have been fairly quiet in the country round just lately, though once the line was threatened and some of the trains delayed; and on another day there was a rumour of fighting not far off, and it was said that we had lost some guns, but I don't think there was much truth in the report.
Things are also going a little better in the hospital. We have a new Lady Superintendent, the other having gone home on a hospital ship.
There has been another big dance, to which most of the sisters went, and some other entertainments.
One night we (my tent full) had all gone to bed to try to get warm, when some one came banging on the canvas, and Sister —— of the Hospital Train put her head in; you know she was an old London friend of mine.
Her train was tied up here for the night, and, as she had heard our men were suffering from the cold, she had brought up a noble present of flannel jackets for them. They really were treasures: of course, I wanted them all for my own line, but had to be generous and give up a few to sisters who really had some bad chest and rheumatism patients.
Talking about rheumatism—I had one man in with rheumatism who was rather bad at first; he wouldnot improve, but remained so helpless that the orderly had to lift him about. I did not quite know what to do with him, and began to think that if an R.A.M.C. surgeon had been on my line the improvement would have been rather more rapid than with the civil surgeon who had charge! Then, one day, I had a man bad in the next tent to this man, so I asked leave to go down to do something for him one evening after we had gone off duty, as I knew the night sister would be too busy to go to him when she first went on—and here there is always an hour's interval after the day sisters leave the camp and before the night sisters go down. What was my surprise when I got to the tent to find my rheumatic patient in there playing cards! He had pretended he could not sit up in bed.
I only said to him that I thought it was time he turned in for the night; and the next day I handed his board to the medical officer when he came round, and said that if he did not mind marking him "up," I thought it would do him good to sit out in the sun in the middle of the day, if the orderly put him to bed after tea. You can imagine the poor man felt pretty small, and in a few days he told the civil surgeon that he thought he felt fit to go back to duty, so we shook hands and parted good friends. I hope that he will not get shot, or I shall wish I had let him slack a bit longer!
We have had a good many Boer patients in lately; one poor young captain has lost his leg. One old fellow used to crawl about on crutches, but he was caught one night slipping about without them, and a Boer woman was found outside the fence with his clothes; so now all the Boers have been collected together and a guard posted.
I am now on night duty again, and find the orderlies more attentive, and the patients (generally) better nursed.
The first night I was on duty I was just reading the reports and trying to find out where the worst cases were, so as to visit them first (I now have 285 beds on my side, instead of the 250 I had when I was on before), when a wardmaster came to tell me that a sick convoy had turned up unexpectedly from General Bullock's column, and one man had been wounded on the way and had some hæmorrhage from a shattered hand. I helped the surgical sister get the theatre ready in a hurry, and then she stayed for the operation, while I went to see the others. There were only fifteen men, and they were black as sweeps and very cold; but they did not seem very bad, and they were delighted to be in shelter, with the prospect of a bed.
The orderly officer asked me to give them anything I liked, and he would order it afterwards, while he went to the theatre with the case; the wardmaster got them all some Bovril, and we soon settled which of them might have bread with it; and then I had not the heart to insist on the usual wash, as it was so bitterly cold, but I let them all tumble into beds, and then took round a bottle of whisky and a kettle and gave them all a hot drink; there was nothing more heard of that lot of men (but snores) for a good many hours! Poor chaps, they were absolutely tired out, and the medical officer quite approved, only saying he thought they might have had two bottles of whisky amongst them instead of one, but you know I am a strict teetotaller!
Having settled them, I started my rounds, and soonfound that the worst case was a poor chap with pneumonia; fortunately he was in a building (instead of a tent), so it was possible to keep him fairly warm. The night orderly was not a very intelligent youth, but he was fairly watchful and obedient, and for four nights I spent every spare minute with this man, and really thought we should pull him through; then the fifth night the day sister met me in a very bad temper, and said, "Whatdoyou think? they have moved our poor O. down to a very draughty enteric tent; after all the trouble we have taken to pull him round! I am sure he will die there." I asked why he had been moved, as there had been no sign of enteric, and she replied that she could not get any reason, but an orderly had told her that "the doctor said that he was going to die, and he did not want any death up there."
Poor chap, he did die the next day, and of course hemighthave done so in any case, but to shift him then just took away his only chance.
It has been very cold all the time that I have been on night duty, but two of the nights were so horrible that I don't think I shall ever forget them. Sister —— is on with me now, so we grumble together; for those two nights it was blowinghard, and then a sleety rain came on that positively cut like knives, and was almost paralysing; on the second of those two nights I struggled back to the duty room and flopped down by the fire, which was very low, but I had not even the energy to poke it up; after a bit Sister came in dripping wet and looking blue with cold; she set down her lantern, and then came to the fire and gazed at me, and, after a bit, said, "Sister, you do look ill." I tried to laugh, but I think wewere both much nearer crying with cold; so I struggled up to attend to the fire and brewed some tea, and after a bit Sister said, "Do you know, Sister, when I came in I thought you looked as though you were going to die, and if you had been, I positively had not the power to set to work to get you a hot drink or anything."
I told her I thought we were both too tough to die of cold, and then we both (feeling a little better for the tea and warmth) had to tramp off again to give brandy to some of the bad cases. After that, they put on another night sister, so the work was not quite so hard, and we could take rather longer spells in the duty room to get warm, but we have not had rain (as well as the cold) except on those two nights.
Last night was full of excitement: during the day a poor young Australian lad had gone off his head and had been put in a guard tent, and he tried to get hold of the sentry's bayonet. Then there was much commotion because the C.O. found one of the signalmen was drunk, and brought him down to the guard tent. Then Sister —— found an orderly straying about, who was supposed to be special with a young R.A.M.C. lieutenant who is down with fever, and the orderly did not seem to know what he wanted; so Sister flew off to the tent, and found the lieutenant very much upset, and saying that the orderly was quite mad, and had refused to go and fetch the wardmaster when he ordered him to do so; he said he could not tell Sister what mad things the orderly had been doing; so she had to send for the medical officer, who got the orderly removed at once and another posted.
There is not nearly so much drinking as there was at first, but still they do find ways of getting drunkat times. A little while ago there was a great row because the convalescent officers were allowed to drive or ride about, and they used to go over to the next town and bring back whisky and champagne. I don't think there was much harm in it at first (except that it was a bad example for the men), and it was winked at for some time, until they had a very rowdy lot of men in, and then one day one of them was found to be suffering from D.T.
I am glad I am not Lady Superintendent up here: I should find it hard to know where to draw the line with the present lot of sisters; at first they were given every liberty, and were rather encouraged to go to dances and riding picnics, &c., with the men; then, when their behaviour began to be talked about, the authorities put up notices in our mess-room of rules referring to conduct of which no lady would be guilty, rules which were, in fact, an insult to us, but which we cannot say are unnecessary, because there are just a few sisters who don't care what they do—one of them was seen at a hotel at the next station smoking cigarettes with a most undesirable companion!
We can only hope the war will soon be over, and let us all go home; otherwise, the sooner sisters of that sort are weeded out the better. They seem to have been choosing the sisters in a very casual way at home lately, and, though there are plenty of sisters out here who are working hard and well, they will probably all get classed together in the public estimation with those who are simply "frivolling" and getting themselves talked about.
Uitenhage, Cape Colony,October 1901.
It is a long time since I have written to you, but for some time things went jogging on very much the same as when I wrote last, and there was little to write about, and then lately I have had a wretched time of it, so did not feel inclined for writing.
After I finished my turn on night duty I went back to my line, but soon knocked up, and was ill and off duty for nearly three weeks; first with dysentery, and then my damaged side got bad again.
By the time I got to work once more, the weather had very much improved, and my tents were very light. I received from home some splendid boxes of literature, and also of tobacco and jerseys, and some games for the men. I taught them to play Halma, and it was very popular; they used to make out it was a competition between the different branches of the Service—the greens were always the Volunteers, the yellows were the Yeomanry, the reds the Regulars, and the blues the Navy or the Colonials; sometimes they could get a representative of each branch to play the men, and then there was much excitement as to which would get in first.
The men in my line got a photographer to photograph them, and presented me with a large copy. You can understand that we were fairly slack when I tell you that we used to brew toffee in the duty roomon afternoon duty. I think we were all very tired of ration feeding, and we were all getting thin, and when one gets to that stage one has a sort of craving for sweet things, so the toffee was very popular.
Something went wrong with the washing arrangements for a time, and we could not get our things washed, so for a week or two we had to wash for ourselves, and, irons being very scarce, we had to press our things by putting them under our mattresses and sleeping on them!
A column camped for a night near to us, and sent us in some sick, including a good many cases of measles, that had to be sent to an Isolation Camp. They had no sisters out there, and it was pretty rough and very dull; but the provision cart went out every day, so I was often able to send them parcels of papers, &c.
Early in September the Town Guard were all under arms, as there was some looting of stock quite near to us; and there were many rumours that we were going to be attacked (for the sake of the rifles and ammunition that the patients had brought in). The rifles, &c., were therefore sent to the next station.
After that there was more fighting down at Dundee, and then the Natal Volunteers were ordered out again.
All this time I was very seedy, and trying to exchange to another station; but several of us had rather good reason to believe that, so many sisters having sent in for an exchange, their applications were never forwarded to the P.M.O.!
Then they had a "Court of Inquiry" at the hospital, and I was obliged to give some evidence: and it was simply horrid having to do so. After that I felt so bad I wrote to the P.M.O. direct to say that as I could not get an exchange, might I be allowed toresign? as my brother was just now in Natal, and I proposed to go to stay with him, before going to England.
At last I obtained leave of absence, and later on obtained leave to resign.
Verymuch to my surprise, about this time, I learnt that I had been "mentioned in despatches," and, a little later on, that I had been awarded the Royal Red Cross; I am sure I have not done anything to earn it, nor have I done as much as many of the others; but, of course, it is very nice all the same.
I had such an awfully kind letter of farewell from the men of my line before I left, thanking me for what I had done for them.
We had a good many "Gentlemen Troopers" in, the last part of my time, and some exceedingly nice fellows amongst them. One, who was especially helpful, had been an officer on one of the big liners that came out here, before the war. He is now a gunner on one of the armoured trains, and has had a very exciting time of it.
My brother was in Durban, so I left one morning at 3A.M.to join him; I put myself to bed in the train the night before, but I was prevented from sleeping by the shunting of engines and by the letting off of steam, &c. I was the only lady on the train till we had got some way down the line. We were delayed for an hour soon after we had started, as there had been a bad collision the day before, and as the telegraph line was damaged they had to give us a pilot engine.
It was a very rough line, and the train swayed about so tremendously that I was feeling quite sea-sick; then, when we were rattling down a steep hill, there was a sudden explosion, which, of course, madeus think of Boers and many things, and we pulled up with such terrific jerks that we and our baggage all became mixed up on the floor. As soon as we could disentangle ourselves, we looked out—quite expecting to see a party of Boers—but only saw one man waving his arms violently, and we came to a standstill just as we rounded a sharp curve, and found ourselves immediately on the tail of a heavy coal train that had got stuck on our line; the explosion was a fog signal they had laid to stop us, and it saved us from coming a very nasty cropper down a steep bank.
I had told my brother I should spend the night with friends at Pinetown and join him in Durban the next day; but when I was leaving I had a wire from him to say I had better come straight down, as he might have to sail the next day, so,en route, I wired to my friends not to expect me.
I had a very early breakfast at Glencoe (and the usual wash at a tap on the platform!), and we were so late in reaching Estcourt, where we were supposed to lunch, that by that time I had a really bad headache, and could only rise to a cup of tea and a roll.
Inchanga is the place where one always dines, whether going up or down, and we were due there about 7P.M., but about 8.30P.M.we got stuck in a siding about a mile from Inchanga; and there we had to remain nearly an hour because Lord Milner was dining at Inchanga, and we had to wait till he had passed; we did not bless him for taking so long over his dinner while we starved! By this time I was feeling really ill, and thought it might be partly from want of food, so I made myself eat some soup and a little chicken; then I was establishing myself in the train again (thankful to think that it was a"no stop" run to Durban), when another wire was thrust into my hand from my brother saying, "No beds, if possible sleep Pinetown; not leaving till following day." I groaned, but bundled out again, with my kit-bag open, and my rugs, pillow, books, &c., all loose, just as the train departed. I thrust my goods into the hands of an astonished little Kaffir boy, who helped me to pack up my kit-bag, and of course I had to leave my heavy baggage to take care of itself.
I did not have to wait long for the "Kaffir Mail," whichdoesstop at Pinetown, but I knew my friends would all have gone to bed as they were not expecting me, and of course no one would meet the train, and their house was some way from the station, and it was raining steadily! so I felt pretty miserable. I was put in a carriage by myself, and after we had started found there was no light in it, and I felt really ill, and wished I had not made myself eat any dinner!
However, just as we ran into Pinetown I looked out, and some one hailed me, and there was one of my best old Pinetown orderlies (now working on the line). He seemed so pleased to see me that I felt inclined to embrace him, but refrained! As soon as he had seen the train off and had locked up the station, he shouldered my bag and escorted me to my friend's house. They were all fast asleep, but soon let me in, and I don't know when I have been so thankful to turn into a comfortable bed as I was that night. It was a little over eight months since I had slept in a house.
The next morning they brought me a delicious breakfast in bed—hot scones, &c.; you don't knowwhat it was like after camp feeding, to have a pretty tray with a cloth on it, and everything dainty and nice; and I was very loth to leave both my bed and my kind friends; but about mid-day I again boarded the train for Durban, retrieved my baggage at the station, and then found my brother at the Marine Hotel.
I had time to see a few friends and do a little very necessary shopping, and then we went on board theArundel Castleto go down the coast to Port Elizabeth.
You can't think how funny it was to walk upstairs again: the Pinetown house was a bungalow, so I did not have to try stairs till I got on board ship. I still feel as though I must duck my head every time I go through a door, and when it blows in the night I always wake up and wonder whether I ought to take the mallet and attend to the tent-pegs; and then, when I realise I am not under canvas, there is such a satisfaction in being able to lie down and go to sleep again.
We did not stay in Port Elizabeth, but travelled by train straight on here, where my brother has about three days' work. We have a very comfortable little house to ourselves, with a garden full of such lovely flowers—Maréchal Niel roses, &c.
This is a pretty little town, and many of the people, who are most pleasant and friendly, have called on me. Near to Uitenhage there are still some wild elephants, but I had not time to make their acquaintance.
To-day the minister of the Dutch Reformed Church took us to see the Riebeck Girls' College; such good buildings, and such bright-looking scholars. They have a kindergarten, and then all the standardsup to the highest—those working for university exams. The Resident Magistrate took us to see some nursery gardens that send flowers all over South Africa. After the barrenness of the Natal uplands these masses of flowers were quite lovely, and I was given a beautiful bunch of carnations.
To-night we have some people dining with us, and to-morrow we return to Port Elizabeth, where we shall probably stay about ten days.
Kimberley, South Africa,December 1901.
From Uitenhage we returned to Port Elizabeth, where my brother had about a week's work, and then we had to wait a few more days for a steamer; but several old Kimberley friends were down there, and a good many other people called, so I had a very pleasant time.
Port Elizabeth was a little agitated about the plague; they had had about a hundred cases, and about half of that number had died, but just then there were only twelve in the hospital.
One day I went out with three ladies to a place they call the Red House, and had a delightful row up the Zwartkops River. Another day Mrs. —— drove my brother and me out to her father's country house, "Kraggakama," about a fourteen mile drive; a beautiful bungalow house, and such a lovely garden, surrounded by dense, semi-tropical woods, with little paths leading away into the woods; many monkeys and other creatures around.
We had lunch out there, and found strawberries just ripe in the garden.
From Port Elizabeth we had meant to go straight back to Kimberley, but, after many wires, it was decided that my brother must go to Oudtshoorn, a place a long way from the railway, where there had been cases waiting for a long time for trial, as ithad not been considered safe for a judge to travel there.
To reach Oudtshoorn it was necessary to go by steamer to Mossel Bay, and the mail steamers, as a rule, do not call at Mossel Bay. Moreover, Port Elizabeth being an infected port (with plague), the mail steamers were not keen on taking passengers from there; so there were many obstacles to be overcome.
I packed up my heavy baggage and sent it up to Kimberley; then theNormanwas signalled, and we went down to the jetty, and had to be examined by the medical officer of health for plague symptoms! and then the harbour-master took us off in a special tug.
The next morning they put us ashore at Mossel Bay, and there we had to wait some hours as the Commandant was very doubtful as to which was the safest route for us to take; there were still a good many Boers in the surrounding country, and, though they probably would not wish to interfere with us, they would certainly be very pleased to annex our provision cart and also our horses and mules; and the C.O. had so weak a garrison that he could spare us only a small escort.
After some time spent in wiring, it was decided we should drive to George and sleep there. The baggage and provisions were sent on with a mule cart, and, after an early lunch, we got away in two Cape carts with four horses each.
The distance was about thirty miles, and we outspanned only once—at Brak River, where we had some tea, and there an escort of six cyclists met us from George, and the Mossel Bay men turned back. The cyclists were very smart fellows; some of themscouted ahead, and the others rode with us very steadily uphill and down. It was getting dark when we neared George, and the Commandant and Magistrate rode out to meet us, and then stayed and had dinner with us at the hotel.
George is a pretty place, with streets lined with fine old oaks, and with big arum lilies growing in the fields around.
Just in front of the hotel there was a stout little sandbag fort with a small gun, and, of course, there was very strict "Martial Law" there; pickets on every road, and no one could leave the village or come in without a permit, and even with a permit you must be within the picket lines by sundown. No one might be outside his house after 9P.M., and lights must be all out by 10P.M.
We were to sleep at George, and the Commandant told us that he had already sent out a patrol of men, who were to sleep at the top of the Montague Pass, and meet us there the next morning; he wished us to slip away quietly in the early morning, and his patrol would soon join us, and ride with us till we met the troop that was being sent out from Oudtshoorn to meet us.
The Commandant has about 300 men under him. They are nearly all local men, in fact many of them Boers, but he was quite confident of their loyalty, and said the poor chaps were suffering badly for it, the rebels burning their farms and doing them all the harm they possibly could. Just when we were there he was very sad because one of his scouts, quite a young lad belonging to George (and very popular in the place), had been most cruelly shot by them after he had had to surrender.
The next day we started in our carts about 6.30A.M., every one seeming to think it would be a risky drive. After we had gone some way our driver began to pull up and looked scared (he could speak only Dutch), and we made out that he could see some horses off-saddled higher up the mountain, and he thought it was Boers waiting for us. With some difficulty we explained to him that we expected the George escort to meet us at the beginning of the Pass, and then he agreed to go on; but we were all somewhat relieved when we got up to the horses and found they belonged to genuine District Mounted Troops, and that they had not seen any Boers about.
That day we travelled between forty and fifty miles, through beautiful mountain scenery, which reminded us of Switzerland (minus the snow); lovely ferns and cool, dripping water, and quite high mountains all round.
We outspanned only once for a breakfast-lunch at Doom River about 10A.M.; Scheeper's commando had honoured them with a visit there, for looting purposes, just before he was caught.
At Hymen's House, about mid-day, we were met by a captain and twenty-two men from Oudtshoorn, and the George men went back. We got safely into Oudtshoorn about 3P.M., and expected to be there about three or four days, but the work was heavier than had been expected, and we were there a whole fortnight. This was rather fortunate for me, as I knocked up with a very sharp touch of dysentery again, and should not have been fit to travel much sooner.
The Oudtshoorn people were extremely kind, and, when I got better, I had some charming drives to visit farms and other places of interest. It is a richfarming district, and it was the first time I had seen anything of ostrich farming and tobacco growing; so I found a great deal to interest me; they also grow grapes and other fruits, and it is a good corn-growing country.
The ostriches do especially well all along the course of the Oliphant's River. I got some good photos of the ungainly creatures.
Martial law was very strict, and (besides the same rules as those which I told you were in force at George) the farmers were not allowed to keep any horses or food supplies on their farms in case the Boers should take a fancy to them;—all horses had to be sold to the Remount Department at a fixed price, and farmers and other residents in the district, who were accustomed to keeping plenty of good horses, might be seen coming into town with oxen in their traps; and as they were not allowed to keep more than a week's supply of food or forage on their farms, and as some lived many miles away, they had to spend a good part of their time on the road in drawing their rations, as, of course, the oxen are very slow travellers.
They were reaping the corn when we were there, and it all had to be carted into town and sold to the military people, as they cut it.
Oudtshoorn, being far from the railway, had been very short of provisions (groceries, &c.) for some time past, and the military authorities would not allow any waggons to go up from the coast without a strong escort (which could not often be spared); but a convoy had been sent through before we got there, so there was plenty of food, and our provision cart had a few luxuries which seemed to be appreciated at the two dinner parties we gave.
From Oudtshoorn we still had more than a day's journey to join the railway at Prince Albert Road, and horses were so scarce that it was not easy to get decent animals. We sent the baggage cart (with mules) on ahead, and, eventually, my brother and I (and our man) got away in a light Cape cart with two fairly good horses, and the other men had four screws in a bigger cart. The scenery, as we crossed the Zwartberg, was verygrand, but not quite soprettyas the Montague Pass. It was very stiff work for the horses, and we walked a good deal. Our first outspan was near the Cango Caves, where they had recently had a visit from a Boer commando; and then we had to give the horses a good rest at the "Victoria Hotel," high up on the Zwartberg.
We were rather disturbed to find, when we caught up our baggage cart, that it had no brake on it: the road is tremendously steep, as it zigzags down the mountain; so the sergeant in charge of our escort left a trooper to help the boy bring the mules down.
We got in about 7P.M., but there was no sign of the baggage cart that night, and the Commandant (who had ridden out to meet us and then dined with us) was anxious, because only one trooper had been left with it, so he sent some more men out to meet them.
We had to go to bed without our baggage, feeling very anxious, as every one seemed to think the Boers would much like to get hold of it, and also of the mules.
I have seen plenty of barbed wire in South Africa, but have never seen so much as at Prince Albert; they stretch it even across the village street at night, and you can't go many yards without getting tied up in it.
The next morning, if we were to catch our train (and there was only the one train a day), we knew we must be away by 7.30A.M.; but still no sign of our baggage; and then, at last, we heard that it was safe, but the crossbar of the harness had broken, and they had had to spend the night on the top of the mountain; a trooper had ridden in and gone back with new harness; so, after sitting at our gate with the Commandant, with a fresh supply of carts, and a fresh escort, until it was too late for it to bepossiblefor us to catch our train, we had to decide to wait till the next day, and various wires had to be despatched about the railway carriage, &c.
About two hours later the missing baggage-cart arrived all well, with a very weary driver and troopers in attendance.
We had a pleasant day at Prince Albert, and the next day (having sent the baggage on at an early hour) we had an easy drive of twenty-eight miles with some excellent horses (most kindly lent to us by the Commandant), to the rail at Prince Albert Road. We outspanned only once, at Boter's Kraal, where the final escort met us, the sergeant coming up to salute and to tell us that he and his men "had searched the kopjes thoroughly since 4A.M., and had seen no Boers to-day!" but at Boter's Kraal they told us of a recent visit from Pyper's commando.
Thus ended our 150 (odd) miles of driving across the Colony in this "sort of a war," without once having had the excitement of seeing any armed or hostile Boers. About thirty hours in a hot and dusty train brought us into Kimberley.
The dull old Karroo country looked much the same as when I saw it ten years ago, except that every fewhundred yards on the line a blockhouse is standing, and a sentry in his shirtsleeves marches up and down with his rifle, while the rest of the garrison (some half-dozen men) come to look at the train, and to sing out "Papers." They have a terribly monotonous life, and one throws them every scrap of literature one possesses.
Kimberley, South Africa,January 1902.
I think it is just about ten years since I was here last; andhowthe place has changed! Many of my old friends have left, and so many have died that I am beginning to be almost afraid to ask after any one in case I should hear of his death.
Of course they have been through all the horrors of a four months' siege, and there are still many marks of the Boer shells to be seen; one of them had made a hole through our backyard wall and buried itself in the kitchen wall: Peter (the cat) found this hole very convenient when going out to visit his friends.
Many people still preserved the bombproof shelters or "dug-outs" in their gardens, where they used to take refuge when the shelling was going on, and then go back into their houses at night to cook the food, &c.
There is a big steam hooter at De Beers Mine, and, during the siege, whenever the lookout men saw the Boers preparing to shell the town, the hooter was sounded, and every one scuttled into shelter; and even now, whenever the hooter sounds, people start up and look inclined to run.
The civilians here cannot say enough for the way Mr. Cecil Rhodes worked during the siege; and his thoughtfulness and consideration for the women and children were beyond all praise. At one time he had many hundreds of them in safety down one of themines, 1000 feet below the surface, and he took infinite pains to send them down suitable supplies; they were in fairly airy chambers, and had a good supply of electric light, &c. Of course the military people are not so enthusiastic about his assistance, but, naturally, they would not appreciate a man who always liked to have his own way, and do what he thought best—and who did it too!
The first thing the Boers did was to seize the waterworks, some miles from the town, and cut off the water supply; but the mine-owners came to the rescue by pumping water from a good spring in one of their mines that had caused them years of annoyance by rising and making the working of that mine a great difficulty; so the water question never caused them much trouble, though the Boers were constantly trying to damage the pumping machinery.
Though the water supply was fair the food supplies were very low; and a rich family, whom I know, told me they were intensely grateful to a neighbour who sent them a quarter of a bottle of port wine and half a packet of cornflour as a Christmas present. They were at that time drawing half their ration of meat in horseflesh, and, though some people say they could never touch it, I believe it was not at all bad, and one girl told me that a little donkey was "quite nice."
A good story is told of a colonel who was then up here. One night at mess he said, "Gentlemen, I am sorry to say we were only able to draw half our ration in beef to-day; this joint I am carving is beef, at the other end of the table the joint is horse: if any one would prefer to try it, perhaps he will carve for himself." No one got up, so the Colonel had to carve(small helpings) for all the mess. After they had finished an orderly came and whispered to him, and he said, "Oh, gentlemen, I am sorry to find I have made a mistake; I find this was the horse, and the cow is still at the other end of the table!"
There was so much sickness in the town that the doctors had a terrible time. In most cases it was suitable food rather than medicine that was needed, especially amongst the little children; and, besides the sickness, there were a great many wounded constantly being brought in from the trenches, or from skirmishes, and every available building was turned into a hospital.
I have just been reading Dr. Ashe's book,Besieged by the Boers, and it gives a good idea of the daily life up here, showing how men tried to go on and do their daily round of work in spite of the shells that were falling and killing not only men but women and children around them.
The thing that Kimberley people are most proud of is the big gun "Long Cecil," which was most cleverly designed and made in the De Beers workshops during the siege, the shells for it also being cast there; until that was built they hadnoguns of sufficient size to reply to the 100-pounder that the Boers were using with so much effect upon the town. It must have been a huge surprise to them when Long Cecil began to scatter shells amongst them, each one inscribed, "With C. J. R.'s compliments!"
The cemetery is sadly full of "siege" graves, and so many little children's graves amongst them. Strangely enough one of the De Beers engineers (an American) who was chiefly responsible for the building of "Long Cecil," was killed by a Boer shell only afew days after the gun was completed; and, just as an example of how we were surrounded by enemies even inside the town, I will tell you about his funeral.
In such a hot climate as South Africa it is always necessary that the funeral should take place within about twenty-four hours of the death; so that it is quite possible to be talking to a man in his shop or at his business in the morning, for him to be taken suddenly ill and die that evening, and the next day, before you have heard of his illness, for you to meet his coffin on the way to the cemetery.
Well, this poor engineer was a very popular man, and the Commandant thought that many people would wish to attend his funeral, so he gave directions that it should be at night, for safety from the Boer shells. Late in the evening, when it was quite dark, the funeral left the hospital; but it had no sooner started than a rocket was seen to go upinthe town, evidently a pre-arranged signal—for almost at once the Boers began to drop shells around the cemetery, but fortunately no one was killed.
Perhaps you have heard in England of the little girl who knew so much about martial law that she strayed into the Provost's office one day in December and said, "Please, sir, may I have a permit for Santa Claus to come to our house!"
All food seems to be frightfully expensive still: we have to pay about 8s. for a single fowl or duck, 4s. a dozen for eggs, and 2s. 6d. a pound for butter.
We have a white woman as cook, and our black boy rejoices in the name of "Moses." I had not been here many days before "George" came to see me—the boy I used to have ten years ago. It isextraordinary how these natives know when one returns, even years afterwards. Of course George wanted to come back, but I found he was in a good place, so I told him I was soon going back to England, and I did not take him on.
I have had two offers of rather good posts out here, but I think I must go home for a time at any-rate.
There is a huge refugee camp just outside Kimberley. I am afraid they have had an awful lot of measles in these camps, and there have been many deaths from it; measles were almost unknown on the scattered Boer farms, and now that these people are crowded together in close quarters, with their traditional objection to fresh air or cleanliness, it seems impossible to make them take precautions against infection.
As a rule, the people in the refugee camps have rations quite as good, and often much better, than the troops, but they do not thrive on them; still, it was impossible to leave them on the farms, for the only way to prevent the Boers from keeping up their supplies was to take or destroy the crops, and, after that was done, it was impossible to leave the women and children on the farms to starve.
Now they are sending sisters to work in these camps, and they are doing all they can to help the people, but I fancy it must be rather uphill work, as many of the Boer women are so very suspicious and bitter. I daresay you have heard of the woman who urged her husband to go and fight, saying, "I can get another husband, but I can't get another Free State."
I have had some interesting drives round the country with a lady who was here all through the siege, andcould show me where the fighting had taken place; and one day some officers gave a very jolly picnic at a place called "The Bend," about seventeen miles from here, on the Vaal River.
It was very hot weather just then, 90° to 95° in the shade, so we started at 5.30A.M., and had breakfast and lunch out there. A mulecart loaded with provisions—delicious peaches and other fruits which had been sent up from Cape Town—had been despatched in charge of four orderlies (all armed). We rowed on the river and prowled about under the trees; and altogether it was quite the nicest picnic I have ever enjoyed.
One of the officers of our party had the honour of being the youngest Colonel in the British Army; he has been promoted so rapidly during the war.
They had all had a rough time of hardship, but they meant to enjoy themselves that day, and I think they did; but they kept their revolvers handy even when rowing up the river.
I had been told that I was entitled to an "Indulgence Passage" home, as I have served during the war, and that would mean that I should have to pay only about £5 for my mess on a trooper, instead of paying about £35 for a passage on an ordinary mail-boat; so I went to the railway staff officer, and he was most kind in arranging about it for me, and (after communicating with Cape Town) he told me that if I would see the P.M.O. when I arrived down there, he would probably be glad if I would do duty for the voyage, and then I could travel quite free, and receive pay (instead of having to pay my mess bill). He also gave me a free railway pass down to the Cape, which I had not at all expected.
Now, I must pay some farewell calls; and then, once more, I shall soon be on the move again.
It really does seem as though the war will soon be over now. We hear that some troops are still coming out, but there appear to be more than enough sisters for the work that has to be done.