There once was a Sister called Baker,Of beds she's an excellent maker,She knows temperatures too,And between "me and you"Is of medicines an excellent shaker.She shows each man's vice—how to treat it,And warns Sister H. how to meet it:"No. 2 you can trustBut show T— a crust,Well, it's a thousand to one he'll eat it."She dilates on the treatment we need,All our habits, our drinks, our feed;"I repeat, Mr. T—Doesn't realise all, butHe cannot be trusted for greed.""Mr. N—, however, is wise,At the sight of eggs hard boiled he sighs,D— eschew them I mustAnd that beautiful crust,For on me Sister Baker relies."You may ask how we know what was saidThe culprit there lying in bed,Overheard in the dark,The whispered remark,And tears of hot anger he shed.The moral is not far to seek:A crust perforates you when weak,While eavesdropping at nightIs really not rightFor it's apt to raise anger and pique.(With apologies to the Authors.)
There once was a Sister called Baker,Of beds she's an excellent maker,She knows temperatures too,And between "me and you"Is of medicines an excellent shaker.She shows each man's vice—how to treat it,And warns Sister H. how to meet it:"No. 2 you can trustBut show T— a crust,Well, it's a thousand to one he'll eat it."She dilates on the treatment we need,All our habits, our drinks, our feed;"I repeat, Mr. T—Doesn't realise all, butHe cannot be trusted for greed.""Mr. N—, however, is wise,At the sight of eggs hard boiled he sighs,D— eschew them I mustAnd that beautiful crust,For on me Sister Baker relies."You may ask how we know what was saidThe culprit there lying in bed,Overheard in the dark,The whispered remark,And tears of hot anger he shed.The moral is not far to seek:A crust perforates you when weak,While eavesdropping at nightIs really not rightFor it's apt to raise anger and pique.(With apologies to the Authors.)
There once was a Sister called Baker,Of beds she's an excellent maker,She knows temperatures too,And between "me and you"Is of medicines an excellent shaker.
There once was a Sister called Baker,
Of beds she's an excellent maker,
She knows temperatures too,
And between "me and you"
Is of medicines an excellent shaker.
She shows each man's vice—how to treat it,And warns Sister H. how to meet it:"No. 2 you can trustBut show T— a crust,Well, it's a thousand to one he'll eat it."
She shows each man's vice—how to treat it,
And warns Sister H. how to meet it:
"No. 2 you can trust
But show T— a crust,
Well, it's a thousand to one he'll eat it."
She dilates on the treatment we need,All our habits, our drinks, our feed;"I repeat, Mr. T—Doesn't realise all, butHe cannot be trusted for greed."
She dilates on the treatment we need,
All our habits, our drinks, our feed;
"I repeat, Mr. T—
Doesn't realise all, but
He cannot be trusted for greed."
"Mr. N—, however, is wise,At the sight of eggs hard boiled he sighs,D— eschew them I mustAnd that beautiful crust,For on me Sister Baker relies."
"Mr. N—, however, is wise,
At the sight of eggs hard boiled he sighs,
D— eschew them I must
And that beautiful crust,
For on me Sister Baker relies."
You may ask how we know what was saidThe culprit there lying in bed,Overheard in the dark,The whispered remark,And tears of hot anger he shed.
You may ask how we know what was said
The culprit there lying in bed,
Overheard in the dark,
The whispered remark,
And tears of hot anger he shed.
The moral is not far to seek:A crust perforates you when weak,While eavesdropping at nightIs really not rightFor it's apt to raise anger and pique.
The moral is not far to seek:
A crust perforates you when weak,
While eavesdropping at night
Is really not right
For it's apt to raise anger and pique.
(With apologies to the Authors.)
(With apologies to the Authors.)
Pinetown, Natal,July 1900.
Since my last letter we have had a good many changes of patients, some being sent back to the front, and others going home by various hospital ships. It is so nice to see some who were carried in desperately ill, able to march down to the train so cheery and bright, and tremendously grateful.
We sent thirty home by the H.S.Duneralast month, and were just hoping to have time to breathe, and to get the sheets and blankets washed, when we had a wire to tell us to expect seventy-five more; so we had a scramble to get the beds and bedding ready for them, and they nearly filled us up; but they were not quite such abadlot as our previous batches had been, and there were a good many wounded by way of a change.
We were still short-handed, so had to do a good deal of sorting of patients; turning some wards into convalescent wards, that needed only occasional visits from a sister, and no night orderlies—a sergeant patient being made responsible for good order in the ward.
Several of the orderlies are still ill: the mess-room man has had a relapse, and will not be fit for work for some time; the second compounder has also been very bad with typhoid—delirious for more than a week—but I think he will do all right now; it hasbeen awkward, as the first compounder can only just crawl about after his spell of illness.
We have had one man awfully bad with double pneumonia after a stiff turn of typhoid. Then he got a bad abscess in the jaw, and had to have it operated on; for some days his temperature hovered between 105° and 106°, but now he is doing well, and will soon be sent home.
We have been inspected by Colonel Clery, who, unfortunately, came on the day on which we had those seventy-five men in, and before we had got them all washed or their kit put away; but he was very pleasant to me, and said he was pleased with the wards and the looks of the patients, bedding, &c.
We have also had several other distinguished visitors—Sir John Furley, Sir William Stokes, and Major Baptie of the R.A.M.C., who won his V.C. at Colenso.
We have all been very sorry to hear of the death of Colonel Forrester, who had been in charge of the Princess Christian Hospital Train, and had been here several times bringing us patients.
The four months for which this hospital was given, equipped, and maintained by private generosity, are now nearly over, and in a few days we shall have become a Government Hospital. We shall then receive our pay and various allowances from the Government; and we are now arranging to separate the mess of the sisters from that of the medical officers. I expect it will be difficult to keep our stores separately, but we shall wish to live more economically than they do. For the present we have decided to share the same cook, an Indian who has been acting as our dhobie for the last few weeks, and who, we hear, is agood cook; his wife will continue to act as our dhobie; she is such a pretty little thing, with rings in her nose and bangles on her ankles and arms.
I quite expected to be superseded by an Army Sister proper when the hospital was handed over, but the P.M.O. has asked me to "carry on" (which does not mean the same in the army as it does in Cockney land!)
The other day poor Miss H. arrived. She had started from England as soon as she heard her brother was ill here, meaning to nurse him, and I think I told you he died here (our first death amongst the officers). It was awfully sad for her. I was frightfully busy the day she came, but felt I must walk over to the cemetery with her. She is a trained nurse, and we should have been very glad of her help if she could only have arrived in time, as her brother was delirious for so long, and we had to take turns at sitting up with him for some time; but everything that could possibly be done for him was done.
They do seem to muddle things a bit; in the last few weeks we have hadsevennew sisters sent to us; we would have given anything for a few of them a couple of months ago, but now there is much less fever, and many of the beds are filled with convalescents. We had no rooms for so many sisters, so had to put up tents for them.
One day we sent off a batch of over fifty men for home, emptied several wards (putting the remaining cases into other wards), and had a general clean up; the same day we had a wire to tell us to expect seventy-two men the next evening, so we had a scramble to get the linen dry and everything ready for them. They proved to be all convalescents, and they camedown thinking they were going straight on board ship for home, and of course were rather disgusted at being stopped here. The next day, having got them all settled in, and their kit stowed away, we had a wire asking us to send sixty men down to Durban the next morning for home!
So, again, there was a great bustle and inspection, and the lucky sixty having been selected had to retrieve their kit from the store and be fitted up with comforts for the voyage.
We feel sure that it was all a mistake their coming here at all, and that they ought to have gone straight on board ship. Of course it gave us an awful lot of work, and did not do them any good. We must try to see the remaining twelve get off with the next batch.
The other day fifteen new orderlies came, men of the Imperial Bearer Company (chiefly recruited from refugees and other Colonials). Some of them are quite old and bearded, and there was much puffing over their march up from the station. It is so funny to have to hurry these venerable gents round the wards when they look at me solemnly through their specs, and the Tommies are rather inclined to humbug them.
Some of our original St. John's men will have to leave soon, as their time is up, and we are letting all those go who are not very keen on the work, but, unfortunately, some of the keen ones want to go too. I am sorry to lose them, and rather blame the sisters for it.
The orderlies have been awfully nice to me; two of the best have been promoted to be sergeants. One, who has been chiefly in the officers' ward (he is arailway guard at home), has been splendidly patient with them all; and the other is the man who has been in charge of the sanitary work and managed the coolies.
I have been having a little riding lately while the extra sisters have been here, and all the sisters in turn are having a few days' leave.
One day some people asked us to go for a picnic (riding), so we collected all the screws we could, and, making a party of twelve, we rode to a very pretty waterfall about nine miles from here, and they had arranged for tea at a quaint old farmhouse near by.
Riding back by moonlight my (funeral) horse was so keen that I could hardly hold him, so I was riding ahead with one of the men, when, hearing a shout, we hurried back and found the senior civil surgeon had had a tumble. He was not much of a horseman, and they had put him on the very quietest nag, but it had stumbled, and he came off.
He managed to ride home at a walk, though he was unconscious for a few minutes at first. He was a good deal shaken, and had to keep quiet for some days.
Another day we went to the Trappist Abbey; when we arrived, they kept us waiting some time in a room, and then a meal suddenly appeared—poached eggs, delicious brown bread, honey, fruit, tea, and tamarind wine. We were surprised, as it was early in the afternoon, but we felt obliged to accept it, and it was all very good, though I shied at the tamarind wine. Afterwards they showed us round the place.
It is really wonderful what these Trappists do for the natives, with their schools, shops for bootmaking, saddlery, tanning, ironmongery, printing, photography, &c.; but whether it does the native any real andlasting good to teach him all these things is quite another matter.
Everything seems to be running more smoothly in the hospital now, and even if the place were full of bad cases (as it was at the first), now that the orderlies are getting to know their duties, we feel that we could tackle the work without the hopeless sensation of being unable to do half enough for everybody.
We are very lucky in our Major: he is very keen to have everything well done, and one can always go to consult him in any difficulty.
Pinetown, Natal,August 1900.
We are now a full-blown Military Hospital, instead of being partly civil and partly military. Everybody had talked so much about the coming of "red tape" that I had been a little nervous about the change; but, except just in the transition stage, everything has gone very smoothly, and when everybody gets used to the military ways I think it will be all right. Personally, I shall have much less worry and responsibility, for we now have a Lieutenant-Quartermaster of the R.A.M.C., and I shall not have to try to look after the linen and other stores. Moreover, a batch of Indians has arrived and gone into camp, with a good headman, and they will do all the washing over which I have had so many struggles with careless Kaffir women.
I had to attend a big function down in Durban, when the residents presented the gentleman who gave this hospital with an illuminated address. There were many speeches, and much "butter" for all the staff. I was presented with a large photograph of the address.
We have had a good many changes in the staff, and among the civil surgeons who have gone home is the only one of us who understood the electric light plant, with which, in consequence, we have had difficulties. I hope we shall soon find an orderly whounderstands it, as, when the light fails and we have to grope about with candles, the men cannot read, and find the long evenings very dull.
I hear many interesting tales when I go about trying to amuse the men on these occasions; the other day I was called to enjoy a joke—some of them had asked an Irishman whether he knew what "strategy" meant? and he said "Yes, it means like this, sure, when you've fired your last cartridge, don't let the enemy know, but jest kape on firing all the same!" I don't know whether it was original, but he brought it out as though it was.
I have had a few days of slight fever since I wrote last, and I took a couple of days off, and spent them at Umkomaas with some friends, who have a nice cottage down there. It is the most perfect little seaside place I have ever struck; such jolly woods all round the cottage, with semi-tropical growth, and lots of monkeys in the trees; glorious rocks, andsucha blue sea. I had a delightful rest, and came back much better, but of course found various muddles to face, and they always make one wish one had never gone!
The worst thing I had to straighten out was a complaint from a medical officer about a sister; they had been rubbing each other the wrong way for some time, and of course I thought if I had not gone away I might have kept the peace; however, as the complaint was a definite one (though in no way serious), and was alsojust, I had to move her to a less important ward. This very much hurt her feelings, and I was sorry, as, though not a good manager, she is very good to the patients. Now she works for a different doctor, and there is peace in the camp.
All the civil surgeons and sisters growl at the newmilitary rules and regulations, but I think they are rather inclined to make mountains out of mole-hills—they can really get all they want if they set about it in the proper way, but they don't take the trouble to find out whatisthe proper way. Perhaps I have rather spoilt the sisters by letting them have things that were urgently ordered from my stores at any time, but now that the place is not so crowded up with bad cases they must learn to order in the proper way and at the proper time.
In one respect I was afraid that our system would be changed, but the Major has very kindly arranged it as I wished; I saw, when at the Cape (and heard of it in other hospitals), that when a sick convoy arrived there was much delay before the men were classified and put to bed—sometimes not until several hours after their arrival. One cause of the delay was that each man, if he could crawl, had to go up to the store to draw his kit and sign for it himself; the poor chaps used to look so frightfully ill and tired with this weary waiting about, before they could get food or a wash, after (perhaps) some days in a train.
Here we have managed quite differently; as soon as we received the wire saying that patients were coming (and the number), we had everything issued for that number; the beds were all made up, and before they arrived I used to go round and see that the crockery for each man was on his locker, a clean shirt, towel, soap and flannel, &c., all ready, so that the men could be carried straight to their beds as soon as they arrived, and have a good basin of bovril without any delay; then those who were well enough to go up to the store to give in their kit and to receive their hospital suit did so; and the orderlies took up the kitof those who were too ill (of course they did not want hospital suits).
Now it is necessary for all, who are able, to sign for their equipment (sheets, blankets, &c.); but the Major lets us have some beds fully equipped in each ward before the men arrive, and the orderlies sign for those fittings until the men arrive, and then they countersign the book, so that the bad cases can still be carried straight to their beds.
Our new mess arrangements are working well; it is much more comfortable having a cook with a kitchen separate from that from which all the food for patients, orderlies, and others is served. We had to buy a new stove, but as the expense was shared between the medical officers and sisters, it did not come to very much. Our Madrassee cook is serving us very well. I thought it would be difficult to keep our stores separate, but he seems to manage well and economically, and he is a good cook and serves the things up very nicely. We share the expense of his wages with the doctors, but have separate boys for our mess waiters and for our rooms.
I have kept John on for the sisters' rooms: he is very slow, but a good old thing, and very clean. It is the custom for these boys to go home for a day or two when their wages are paid, but you always keep some of what is due to them in hand (or they don't come back); but when the hospital was handed over to the Government, the boys were all paid up to date, so of course they all cleared, but John promised to come back in two days, and I thought he would; but it was six days later when I found him slinking about his work and looking like a big dog that expected a whipping. I said, "Oh, John, you bad boy,sisters not have you back any more," and then he said his wife was "plenty sick," but I told him I thought Kaffir beer was plenty good, at which he grinned, and I had to forgive him!
William, our good scamp of a mess-room boy, never returned, so I had to go into Durban to the toct (or tax) master at the police station, who generally looks after all the natives and gives them their passes, &c. I chose a boy who was recommended, but he never turned up, so I was thinking I must go again and lead one out from Durban with me, when the dearest little Kaffir turned up, with a note from the toct master, saying he was a very good boy, and his name was "Imdenbe, son of Cholem, Chief of Imsugelum, Umtenta," so I was rather relieved when the boy said his name was "Dick"!
I thought he was much too small to reach to put the things on the table, but he is very quick and nimble and clean, and both the cook and John are very fond of him; so we manage all right, and he looks perfectly sweet in his white suits with red braid—they all wear things like bathing-dresses, with short sleeves, and go about barefoot.
The worst of the enteric season seems to be over now, and we are very slack, and we hear it is the same at all the hospitals up this side. The days are still very hot, but the nights are quite cold.
I expect you hear more about this Hospital Commission than we do, but the R.A.M.C. men are very sick about it, as they have worked so tremendously hard all through the war.
I think every one agrees that the Tommies have never been so well looked after in any war before, but no doubt at the front they have suffered badly,more especially at Bloemfontein, where, suddenly, the army was attacked by a perfect scourge of enteric (I believe there were about 6000 cases there); but people must remember they were 900 miles from their base, with only a single line of rail, and for the last 250 miles almost every bridge destroyed, so that all traffic had to be carried on with the utmost caution over temporary bridges, only a few trucks crossing at a time; also it was an unusually dry season, so that engines often had to drop their heavy trains, run on to get water, and then return for them.
The Transvaal could practically supply nothing to feed the troops, as the Boers had planted no crops.
To get sufficient rations up daily for the men and horses was just about all the one rail could do, and when it was necessary to leave the railway line, the troops often had to wait weeks to scrape together rations to carry with them.
I believe the R.A.M.C. were well prepared for the probable number of wounded, but when unexpected sickness knocked the men over by the thousand, it is scarcely surprising that it was impossible to get up tents and all medical necessaries and comforts quickly enough.
I believe the sick and wounded are quite comfortable now in Bloemfontein; but no doubt there was suffering there, and the Commission will find out whether it might have been prevented.
There can have been little excuse for the bad management that is complained of at the base, and if that is proved, no doubt some one will get blamed for it.
I know the single-line railway on this side, that passes close to us, has been very hard worked nightand day; at one time eight trains went up each day with water-tanks only, besides almost incessant trainloads of men, horses, mules, stores, &c.; the only wonder is that there have been so few accidents.
All the sisters have now had some leave, and as we have extra sisters here and very few bad cases, I am going to take a run up-country with a lady from here, and hope to tell you about that next time I write.
Pinetown, Natal,August 1900.
I must first of all tell you of my interesting few days up-country. I left here on the evening of the 20th of last month with Mrs. D. and her baby and a small Kaffir nursemaid; she was going to stay with friends who have a hotel and store at Colenso, and I had engaged a bed at this hotel, and took my saddle with me hoping to secure a horse there, and be able to explore the country around.
Two of our medical officers were going for a run up-country the same day, but as the train ran in two sections, I only saw them on the platform at Maritzburg late that evening.
At the same time I saw another officer in khaki looking at me, and then recognised in him a well-known London surgeon who is chief of another hospital out here—of course I was more used to seeing him in frockcoat and top-hat. He had his wife on the train, and as they also were going to Colenso, I was very glad to be able to be with them there.
The train rocked about so much (first crawling up a hill, and then tearing down the other side) that it was difficult to sleep, but the baby slept like an angel with the little Kaffir girl, safely deposited on the floor.
At 4.30 the next morning we arrived at Colenso. It was very cold and very dark, but Mr. Edwards (the hotel proprietor) met us, and with him we stumbled across the veldt to his hotel, which is just a one-storey shanty,as their house had been knocked to pieces by the Boers. Unfortunately he could not possibly take in my friends, so they had to stay at the station.
I was very glad to be able to tumble into a clean bed and have a good sleep, and by breakfast-time I was quite fresh again.
Then I was annoyed to find that I could not get a horse, as they were all engaged, and I had hoped to be able to ride to Ladysmith and to Spion Kop; however, I got on all right in the end.
That morning we climbed Hlangwane Hill, and saw some really wonderful Boer trenches; you absolutely can see no sign of them in broad daylight till you nearly walk into them.
Then we saw the place where Colonel Long lost his guns (the dead cavalry horses are still lying there); and where poor young Lieutenant Roberts was mortally wounded in trying to save them; and where Major Baptie, R.A.M.C., won his V.C.—I think by carrying Lieutenant Roberts into a donga and staying with him, and other wounded, all through that day of heavy firing, trying to keep them comfortable with some morphia he had with him.
We picked up as many pieces of shells and shrapnel as we could carry, and walked back along the banks of the Tugela.
I heard that a luggage train would be passing at 2.30P.M., so I thought I would go into Ladysmith by that, and see whether there was any chance of getting out to Spion Kop from there. There are very few passenger trains now (except just the mails), so we are allowed to travel in any train that happens to stop, but of course they don't undertake to keep to any particular time.
Directly after lunch I strolled down to the station—no station-master or any official there, but I met a gentleman who told me that he had walked all the way out from Ladysmith, and was expecting to have to wait for the mail train to take him back, so he was very glad when I told him I knew the next goods train was going to stop there; he said his wife was in the waiting-room, so we walked along to find her, and soon I discovered she was Mrs. ——, Secretary of the Women's Patriotic League in Durban, whom I had not actually met before, but with whom I had had much pleasant correspondence, as they had been very kind in helping us.
So we trained in to Ladysmith together, and on the way they pointed out to me the remains of the great dam which the Boers made to try to flood Ladysmith out, also the neutral camp of Intombi; there is no hospital there now, only the cemetery, sadly full of graves.
They told me they were staying at the "Royal," and that people from there frequently drove out to Spion Kop; so I walked up with them and interviewed the manageress, who told me that a party of ladies had engaged a waggonette to drive out there next morning, and she thought I could easily secure a seat. Eventually I met these ladies, and found they were Durban people who had been over here to help at a concert for our men, so they were very kind and said I had better stay the night (as they had to start early in the morning) and dine with them.
I went out and wired to Colenso not to expect me back, bought a few necessaries, and then took a look round the town.
The hotel I was staying in had had a big shell rightthrough, which had killed a man who was sitting in the hall, and the Town Hall had had a great piece knocked off the tower by one of Long Tom's shells.
Then I climbed up to the convent, which was used at first as officers' quarters, but had been tremendously knocked about by shells. The kind old sisters were very busy with workmen, patching up holes in the walls, &c.
Then I walked out to the cemetery, rather a long walk, and it was getting dusk, so I could not stay long; there were rows and rows of siege graves, and amongst many interesting names I saw those of the Earl of Ava and poor George Stevens of theDaily Mail.
It was quite dark when I got back to the hotel, and I was glad of dinner, and not sorry to go early to bed. It is eighteen miles out to Spion Kop, and they won't send a carriage there for less than £5, but for that sum you have four horses, and six people can go in the carriage; I had told the manageress that I would gladly pay £1 for a seat, but in the end I was not allowed to pay anything, as there were only four besides myself, and they had already arranged to pay the £5, and would not let me share.
We started at 6A.M.with a black driver, and a small white boy to act as guide. Many of the horses that went through the siege have not yet recovered; one of ours was taken worse on the way, and we had to wait while the driver crushed up a nut between two stones and thrust it down the horse's throat, then it struggled on till we reached the kraal at the foot of the hill at 9A.M., and outspanned. On the way we passed the place where Colonel Dick-Cunyngham was killed.
We had a bite of lunch, and then started with oursmall guide up the Thaba Inyama, one peak of which is "Spion Kop."
We had with us a January number of theNatal Mercurygiving a full account oftheday, so we were able to trace the positions, and I had heard the men talk so much about it I felt I knew my way quite well.
Of course we went up from the Ladysmith side (where the Boers were), but from the top we could look over to Potgieter's Drift and Spearman's Camp, and marvel how our poor chaps ever got up in the dark, with the Boers in such good cover above them; andthento be ordered back must have been frightfully disappointing.
We saw many English and Boer graves, and I took a good many photos, including one of the cross on the spot where General Woodgate fell.
We picked up heaps of cartridges (full and empty ones), emergency ration tins, soldiers' uniform buttons, &c.; it was too hard climbing to burden ourselves with any shells, but I bought a few from Kaffirs who had gathered near our carriage. I am collecting a very varied stock of ammunition, including one soft-nosed cartridge.
They were burning the grass down all round the base of the hill, and every now and then a cartridge went off; we hoped the fire would not come across any stray shells while we were there.
We had a splendid view of the Drakensberg Range. Returning to our carriage we had lunch, with an admiring crowd of rather naked Kaffirs around (who seemed much to appreciate our remains), and we started for the return drive about 1P.M.The sick horse was worse on the way back, and had to have several doses administered.
As we were nearing Ladysmith, I found we were passing close to Tin Town Hospital; so, thinking it was a pity to miss seeing the place, I left the carriage and walked across a drift on the Klip River.
First I passed some officers on their ponies playing at "Heads and Posts"; then I came to the horses' sick camp, and met a nice old veterinary sergeant (who, I found, was a Colonial who came from Kimberley, and of course knew people whom I had met there); he told me he had charge of 400 sick horses, but many of them were "convalescent," and if he had known I wanted a horse he would gladly have lent me one; he said if I would stay another day or two I could send down for my saddle and he would lend me a horse and a mounted orderly so that I could ride to Bulwana, Waggon Hill, Cæsar's Camp, and other places which I should much have liked to visit, but I could not spare the time.
Then he took me along to the sisters' huts. I found the Lady Superintendent was out, but some kindly Kilburn Sisters gave me some tea and took me round the hospital; not many cases in just now, but a few very bad enterics.
The sisters told me that as the Red Cross Ambulance (drawn by eight mules) was going into Ladysmith, I could drive back in it. I was just going to climb inside when a gentleman in khaki came and asked me if I would not rather ride on the top with him, so I gladly climbed up, and found he was a doctor (one of the big civilian doctors); he had heard who I was, and amused me by saying he wished I had called at their mess (fancy shymecalling at an unknown officers' mess!) instead of going to tea with "those estimable females," as they would have shown me moreof the place, and they have a good collection of curios that would have interested me (he was looking at the things I had picked up). It was a very jolly drive, and he insisted on driving me right up to my hotel.
I must really tell you about the rest of my travels in my next letter. I was away only five days, but you will see that I squeezed a good deal into those days.
Pinetown, Natal,September 1900.
I will just finish telling you of my travels while they are fresh in my memory, and then this letter can wait till there is enough material to fill it up.
I was very sorry to hear from my friend on the ambulance of the death of Sir William Stokes (physician); he was ill only four days, and it seems only the other day he came round this hospital and was so cheery and bright, and I know he was meaning to say a good deal to the Hospital Commission in favour of the hospitals out here, and of the work they have done.
I just had dinner with my friends at the Royal, and then the 'bus took me to the station with my heavy bag of shells, &c., in time for the 7.40P.M.train back to Colenso. I was awfully tired, but the mosquitoes were bad, and did not let me have much sleep.
The next day I was invited to go with a picnic party to the Tugela Falls. A large ox waggon was loaded up with children, provisions, &c., and I went with some more people in an Army Service Corps Scotch cart, with no springs, drawn by four mules, who frequently ran away, and who seemed to have a rooted objection to keeping to the road (or rather track); so the journey was rather perilous and distinctly painful.
We passed Fort Wylie, and saw where all the fighting took place on Pieter's Hill, and we saw the rough bridge that the Boers had made over the Tugela by simply pulling up our rails with the sleepers attached and throwing them into the river.
We had lunch close by the Falls—even after this very dry season it is quite a big fall—and after lunch we climbed the hills around, including Hart's Hill. On the top of this hill is a big memorial stone to Colonel Thackery, several more officers, andsixty-sevenmen of the 27th Inniskillings, who fell up there, and we also saw their grave (fenced in) at the foot of the hill.
By the time that we got down to the line again it was blowing a gale, andsuchdust, so some of us sheltered in a platelayer's cottage.
He had a fine collection of shells and other relics; his cottage had been used by the Boers as a telegraph station, and we found he had been in the smash-up of the armoured train, when Winston Churchill was taken prisoner.
As Mrs. D. had her baby with her, and it was now a really bad dust-storm, this man kindly stopped a goods train with his red flag, and we returned comfortably to Colenso in the guard's van.
I should much like to have had longer stay both at Colenso and Ladysmith, there was so much of interest both in the places and in the people one met; but I wanted to visit a few places on the way down, so I left Colenso the next morning at 9.30. My first stop was at Chieveley, where there had been a big hospital, but all that remains now is a little closed-in graveyard, with nearly two hundred graves; many died from wounds, but many more from enteric. Theyhad a clever way of marking the graves, each man's name, regiment, &c., being written on a slip of paper and enclosed in a medicine bottle and securely stuck into the mound.
I saw poor Lieutenant Roberts' grave (it has a plain stone with an inscription, but I hear a cross is being sent out); they had brought him from Colenso on the ambulance train the evening of the day he was wounded. The station-master told me he had helped to lift him out of the train, and he seemed sensible and comfortable then, but he died the same night.
I saw a very fine redoubt at Chieveley made by the Royal Engineers, but it was never used. I took the next train on to Mooi River. Before we reached Frere station we passed the place of the armoured train disaster, and the graves of the Royal Dublin Fusiliers who fell there. Wherever you go there seem to be graves dotted about, most of them enclosed with barbed wire, and some with a cross set up, or the man's initials marked out in empty cartridge-cases.
There is a large hospital at Estcourt, but I had only time for a hasty lunch at the station there, as I wanted to have an hour or two at Mooi River, to see the hospital, where I knew one of the doctors, and where it seemed probable that we should be sent when we first arrived; on the whole, I am glad we werenotstationed there, though they have had more interesting surgical work than we have.
Unfortunately my friend was away, but the superintendent kindly showed me round, and I had tea in the sisters' mess.
They have 950 beds, nearly all under canvas. Itwas blowing hard, and while I was there it began to rain, and it was snowing on the Drakensberg, and very cold, so every one looked rather miserable. It is a desolate place on the bare veldt.
I left again on a goods train at 4.30, and rattled down to Maritzburg by 9P.M., where I meant to stay the night.
Miss —— kindly met me at the station, and we drove down to her house in a riksha; she has been taking in convalescent nurses, and feeding them and giving them a rest. She has had much anxiety about her brothers, one of whom was commandeered and had to fight for the Boers, together with his son (a boy of sixteen). They were with Cronje at Paardeberg, and are now prisoners at St. Helena; another brother was fighting for us, and was taken prisoner by the Boers, but released when we took Pretoria.
Miss —— wanted me to go out to Howick to see the falls there, and to have a look at the big convalescent camp, where they have 1600 beds; but the train left half-an-hour earlier than she thought, so I missed it, and instead she took me to see the Maritzburg Hospitals, Fort Napier, Grey's Hospital (now civilian again), and the Garrison Church, the last the most comfortable looking hospital I have seen further up-country than this one, but it was a little strange to see the men in their hospital suits lounging and smoking on the church steps.
I met a sister whom I had known in London. She was excited about playing in a cricket match; and as she and all the eleven sisters had been given a week's leave from duty to practise for this cricket match, they are evidently as slack in the way of work as we are.
I had some nice greetings from some old patients of ours, now on duty in Maritzburg.
I left there about 6P.M., had dinner at Inchanga with aDaily Newscorrespondent, and got back here about 9.30P.M.Some orderlies were at the station and kindly carried up my load of curios, &c.
The two medical officers had got back the night before, and though they went as far up as Newcastle they had not seen as much as I had, and regretted that they had not had my offer of a convalescent horse at Ladysmith!
I have seen a good many hospitals, and met a good many sisters, and I have gathered a few hints of little ways in which we might improve this hospital; but, though "I says it as shouldn't," I don't think there is any hospital up this side where the men are more comfortable and happy, and I think the sisters here are better fed and their mess bills are no higher than at any of the hospitals—indeed, lower than most of them.
I was glad to find that they had had a peaceful time while I was away, and no difficulties; and as there are actually only eighteen men and ten officers in, we are still very slack; we expect some more any day now, but there is very little sickness just at present.
You ask about the men and their letters; it was rather difficult when we were so frightfully busy at first to do all that one would have liked, but we always try to write for the men who are too ill to write for themselves, and I always saw that all the men who wished had writing materials, and they used to help each other.
They say at some of the base hospitals stray lady visitors have been such a nuisance in interfering with the nurses, but I could well and safely have employeda few stray ladies in amusing the men, writing their letters for them, &c. The friends of those officers who were dangerously ill were all written to by each mail.
Now that we are slack, of course, I have much more chance of talking to the men, and they tell me many tales of the fighting, and of the rough time they have had at the front; but you will hear plenty of that from the men who have gone home.
I am beginning to have many grateful letters from our patients' friends at home.
There has been some delay about our pay lately, and some of the sisters who were lodging here had not received any since they left England, so were not able to pay their mess bills, and I had to pay various mess accounts when I got back from my run up-country, and began to feel rather anxious as to whether I could go on feeding my large party of sisters; but now the pay has turned up, so we have got straight again; and the Government give us various allowances—Colonial allowance, and for mess, servants, fuel, &c., so we are feeling rather well off.
We are much enjoying a big package of papers that the Red Cross Society now send up to us each week; whole weeks ofTimes,Daily Mail,Daily Graphic,Daily Telegraph,Standard,Illustrated London News,Army and Navy, &c. They are the greatest boon to the whole camp.
The men point out to me the "pretty boys" in the illustrated papers when they see any pictures of soldiers, as, by comparison, they all look so thin and rough out here.
Pinetown, Natal,September 1900.
Now we are really getting busy again. Patients keep arriving, sometimes small parties, sometimes large.
Early in September we admitted thirteen men who had been prisoners in Pretoria for nine months. They were very weak and run down, and so happy to be here; when I took them their first basket of fruit, they simply wolfed it down, as they had seen no fruit since they went up-country.
Then we had rather a "difficult" batch of officers sent down from Mooi River. They have no officers' wards there, so these men had been quartered in a hotel more than a mile from the hospital, where each had his own room and servant, and they seem to have ordered and done just what they liked.
Up to now we have never had more than three or four officers well enough to sit up to meals at one time, as they have always come to us really ill, and as soon as they were well enough they have either rushed back to the front or have been sent home on the hospital ships; but with these officers from Mooi River (none of them very ill), I suddenly found that we had twenty-four sick officers in, and thatsixteenof them were well enough to sit up to meals, and that it was not suitable for them to eat in the ward where there were a few men still very ill; so, eventually,a large tent had to be rigged up for them, and as it was a long way from the kitchen there was some difficulty in getting the food to them hot.
The medical officer was a civilian, and he did not seem to think he had anything to do with the responsibility about feeding these hungry convalescent officers; in fact, every one seemed rather inclined to say "It isn't my work"—and our St. John's men are not like R.A.M.C. men, who may be accustomed to turning to as mess waiters on occasion; neither was the cook quite ready to serve up a dinner of several courses instead of single "diets" for each patient.
I am afraid I had to worry the poor C.O.; but I knew if I did not do so the officers would complain they could not get anything to eat; and, after wrestling through the first night's dinner—(when I found well-meaning orderlies running down with the fish before the soup, and some vegetables after the sweets had been served!)—we laid plans for better management, and for a day or two the Major went to the kitchen and saw the food sent down in proper order, and I received it and saw it served in the tent, and four of the officers' servants were told off to wait each night, and the orderlies had only to carry the food down for them. So now that is running all right, and I only just have to look in to see they have all they want.
For some time we have been expecting to be inspected by the Hospital Commission, but at last we heard they were not coming here at all, as there had been "no complaints" about this hospital; so I should have been very vexed if our record had been spoilt at this late stage of the war.
Our next order was to prepare for a train that was bringing us seven officers and 108 men from Pretoria(the biggest trainload we have yet received). Having had sisters here over our correct number for some time, and very little for them to do, of course as soon as we got busy we kept having wires to send one sister for duty on the Hospital ShipAvoca, or two sisters to the Hospital ShipDunera, and so on, and none of them wanted to go, so it was a little difficult to sort them.
In fact, there have been so many orders and counter orders that I should never be surprised if I had a wire telling me to go off on a hospital ship, or if we had orders to pack up the whole hospital and take it up to Pretoria.
Before Mr. X. left, he let us buy some remaining groceries at home prices (a great saving for our mess), and after we found a small storeroom to arrange them in, I, rather foolishly, let them use the cases for firewood, which has been very scarce here; so, if we have to move, all the sisters intend to sling bottles of fruit, and tins of jam, sardines, &c., round them, as we really can't leave our stores behind!
I hear that the army sisters on the hospital ships are rather horrified that I am still left in charge here, now that it is a Military Hospital, and that there are plenty of army sisters out in the country; but the P.M.O. has been very nice to me, and I am very glad to "carry on" as long as they want me; the only thing is that I should very much have liked to see a little of the work nearer up to the front, and as it seems probable that this place will become, later on, a sort of convalescent home, the work will not be so interesting.
Yesterday some officers went down to Durban, and came back much excited by rumours that the line and the wire had been cut at Standerton, that1700 Boer prisoners had been released, that Johannesburg was surrounded, and a few more exciting items, but I dare say they are not true; I never pretend to tell you about the war.
By degrees we are getting a few R.A.M.C. orderlies and non-commissioned officers, and of course they make the work easier for us; but we are quite proud of some of the St. John's men, who are becoming excellent and most efficient nurses, and they really knew nothing of nursing six months ago.
I had a great triumph when the big batch of men (108) arrived, as everything had been issued for them the day before and signed for by the orderlies, and half-an-hour after they arrived every man was either comfortably in bed or had had a preliminary wash and was ready to sit down to a good meal, and after that he went up to the store to hand in his kit; some of the patients and some of the R.A.M.C. men told me that in many of the Military Hospitals it would have taken four or five hours to get so many of them settled and fed.
There are several very bad cases amongst them, but also a good many convalescents. We have two officers desperately ill, one a Major in the R.A.M.C., who, I fear, is not likely to get better, though they are trying everything possible for him, and the other is a Lieutenant in the Rifle Brigade who has been delirious for a long time (enteric) and very ill, but I fancy he will pull round. I have been able to give him special nurses when necessary. Also we have a bad case of enteric in the men's ward; I don't think I have ever seen a case where there has been so much hæmorrhage, and yet I think he will pull round, though he is nearly a skeleton, and even I can easilylift him up while his sheet is changed. I have been much pleased at the really tender way the orderlies have nursed this boy, as he has needed a great deal of patience.
We are getting quite keen on our gardens now that we have a little more time to breathe, but whenever I plant anything I wonder whether, by any chance, I shall be here to see it grow up. I now have some healthy violets and some ivy-leaf geraniums. Some time ago I had two beautiful Orpington hens and a cock given to me. They lay splendidly, and the eggs have been very useful, but they showed no sign of wishing to sit, so I got a friend to put some of my eggs under a broody hen, and hope soon to have some young Orpingtons.
The men have not had time to make me a henhouse yet, so we have to keep a sharp look-out to secure the eggs, and our small Dick is very attentive to them.
I went into Durban the other day to do some shopping for the mess, and saw some friends, and then I went down to the jetty to see some of our orderlies and patients (a nice lot of men of the Coldstreams and other regiments, many of them wounded from Pretoria), who were going home on theMontrose. I met a sister whom I knew, and one of our medical officers was seeing the men on board, and one of the embarkation people invited us to go out in the tender to theMontroseat the outer anchorage; so we had a nice little sea breeze, and the officers on board gave us tea, and offered to show us our cabins, so we had a good chance to stow away for home!
Six of our orderlies were going home on duty, and they all came to say good-bye, and we had quite a"send off" from them and the old patients when we left the ship.
To-day some people have been giving a picnic at a pretty place called Krantz Kloof. They invited all we could spare to join them, so I let six sisters go, and four of the medical officers and four convalescent officers also went off with them in an ox waggon at 8A.M., and they did not get back till 9P.M.I have been busy all day keeping an eye on the place generally to see that nothing was neglected while so many were away.
The night sister and night special both went, so I have now sent them to bed for a few hours, and I have been writing beside Lieutenant —— (of the Rifle Brigade), but I am sure he is better to-day, and to-night he is inclined to sleep; every now and then I let the orderly sit by him while I take a prowl round to see the other wards are all right; now it is 2A.M., so I shall call the two sisters and turn in, and I need not hurry up in the morning unless there are any fresh orders to attend to.
Pinetown, Natal,October 1900.
We have had a good deal of rain lately and the country is looking lovely again: you can almost see the things growing in the garden.
Sometimes it rains for three days without stopping, and South Africa without the sun always looks very gloomy, but when the sun comes out again it makes up for the gloominess.
It has begun to get very hot rather earlier than usual, and the thermometer showed 94° in the shade the other day.
Last month we took in fifty more men who had been prisoners with the Boers; a good many of them were gentlemen troopers of the Yeomanry; they were sent hereviaDelagoa Bay; one of them brought a parrot, and there were several small birds as well.
Then the other day we took in eighty men from Charlestown, nearly all convalescents, and such a mixed lot of regiments—Scotch, Irish, Australians, New Zealanders, and Tasmanians, and one little Australian bugler, aged fifteen, whom all the men spoil.
The poor Major of the R.A.M.C., who I told you was so ill, died in the early part of this month; it was very sad, as he knew so well what all the bad symptoms meant as they appeared.
I think I told you also of Lieutenant ——, who was desperately ill for so long. We had a very anxioustime with him, as the delirium went on for so long that we began to fear it would become permanent, but at last he pulled round, and has been such a nice patient. We have very few officers in now.
The Natal Volunteers were expected to return to Durban on October 2nd (they have been a year at the front), but the Boers attacked a convoy near Dundee, and they were all ordered back.
Durban was preparing a great welcome for them, and the meat for the big lunch that the Mayor was going to give them was actually cooked! They got home about a week later, and we all went down to the station to see them pass, many of our old patients amongst them.
I had the bad luck to have a nasty fall out riding early in the month, and am only beginning to crawl about again, with a good deal of pain from a damaged kidney. One of the medical officers was ill, and had asked me to exercise his pony any time I liked to use it (he didn't like the Kaffir boy taking it out), so, when the Major and another man asked me to go with them to pay a few calls on people who have been very kind to us here, I thought it would be a good chance to exercise the pony. From here down to the station is a good bit of soft sand, and all the ponies were fresh, so we let them scatter along; then I saw there was a train shunting at the level crossing, so I wanted to pull up before we got mixed up on the line (of course no gates here), and just then one of the men lost his hat; my pony got cross at being checked, and bucked a bit, and then suddenly swung round and jumped a fallen tree, and off I went on the wrong side, falling across a branch of the tree. I can't think why I fell, except that I was so sure I could not come off, I neverthought about sticking on, and was preparing to give him a licking for being so stupid.
I did not feel much damaged at the time, though I thought I should have a big bruise just above my hip, and when they had caught my pony I remounted and we went on again; luckily most of the people were out, but at one place I had to get off, and when it came to remounting I simply could not spring, and had to condescend to mount from a chair, and when I got home I felt really bad and had to go to bed.
Fortunately there were plenty of sisters to do the work, and things went on all right while I was laid up, and now I can get about enough to do the housekeeping, and hope soon to get round the wards again, but they are very quiet at present.
We have rather amusing "tiffs" between the officers' and sisters' mess; just now potatoes are very scarce, as the military people have bought them all up; I found the cook was using mine for the officers, as they had run out, so I told them I had had to pay 32s. 6d. for a bag, but I should charge them more by the pound! they thought I had paid too much, and asked the C.O., who was going into Durban to bring them out a bag. When he came back, he had to confess that he had had to give 35s. for a bag, and it never turned up at the station, and he had no receipt, and did not know the name of the shop!
We are constantly having to make little exchanges of food, &c., but it is necessary to keep a very sharp eye on our supplies.
Our nice little imp, Dick—otherwise Imdenbe, son of Cholem, Chief of Imsugelum, Umtenta—got home-sick, and wanted to go home to his mother, so now we have another boy for the mess-room. I dare sayDick will come slinking back when he has spent his money.
John, the big house-boy, is still here, and is an excellent servant. When we first came, Mr. —— let him take care of his horse (of course paying him extra), but then, when other medical officers also got horses, the Major said that one boy must look after them all—as there were difficulties about fodder, &c.—but when Mr. —— told John, he said, "No, sir, me never give up Tommy; Tommy he clean, he fat, he happy, and John love him; John cry very much if boss give Tommy one new boy." But poor John had to give him up; and I believe hedidcry. In my room I have the luxury of a big wardrobe with glass doors, and John takes great pride in this piece of furniture; I believe he loves to see himself in the mirror. One day I found he had turned my dresses out to dust inside—I expected him to proceed to tidy the drawers next, but I drew the line there! He keeps our rooms beautifully clean, and is absolutely honest. The other day he knocked at one of the sister's doors when she was having a bath, and when she told him he could not come in, he said "It's only me, old John," and was quite hurt that she would not unlock the door.
I think I told you about his going home after payday and stopping too long: the same thing happened again the other day, and when he came slinking round with his broom and pail again (looking as though he expected me to hit him), I said, "Oh, John, I just going to toctmaster for another boy," and he said, "No, missus, me never leave the sisters, but my wife very sick, and it rain very much, and—Kaffir beer very good at my kraal," so I had to forgive him, as he was honest about it!
We have had a good many changes amongst the sisters lately, but at present they seem a happy lot, and they work well; they have been much more contented since they took their few days up-country, as it has made them realise that in most ways they are better off here.
As the summer comes on, the creeping and crawling beasts are getting very objectionable; amongst others that come into my room are grasshoppers, locusts, flying beetles (huge brutes), and mosquitoes. When they get very numerous, I have to turn my light off and wait till I hear them all make for the electric light outside.
There are six cats about the place, and two of them insist on sleeping in my room (of course my door and window are always open); one always sleeps on my chest of drawers, and the other on the clothes basket, so I feel safe that snakes won't come in, as a cat always lets you know when one is about.
One night the small tabby brought the most extraordinary creature into my room: it was like a small crab, and it ran round and round in a circle, and squeaked like one of those clock-work mice.
The other day it began to rain, and then we were afflicted by a perfect scourge of flying ants, which I had never seen before in such numbers.
They covered the walls of our rooms, and some of the sisters could eat no dinner, as they were so thick on the mess-room table. The men in the wards swept them up in bucketfuls; then, in a couple of hours, they all took themselves off again, without any apparent method in their madness.
We have all sorts of vegetables and flowers coming on in the garden, the rainy weather suiting themwell, but the wet days are rather dull for the men, and there seems to be more sickness starting again up-country.
I had a letter from J. the other day from Kroonstad, saying that he was fit and well, but heartily sick of trekking about the Free State. Reallyallthe men seem so tired of the war just now; it is all very well to put up with hardships, and short rations, for a few months, but when it runs on to a year, every one has had enough.
The other day we had a wire to ask for a doctor to go to an officer who had been taken ill when on leave about an hour up the line from here. Dr. —— went to see him and found him rather bad, so the next day a stretcher-party went up and brought him here. We have several rather bad cases in just now, but we have plenty of people to look after them, and there is none of the anxiety we had at first, when we were overwhelmed with enteric cases, and the orderlies were so helpless.
We hear that Lord Roberts is coming down this way soon, but there are so many rumours that we hardly know what to believe.
Pinetown, Natal,November 1900.
Of course you will have heard that poor Prince Christian Victor died at Pretoria of enteric. He was buried in the military cemetery there, and there was a service in the cathedral; I heard it was very impressive—about 1000 troops attended.
I should like to have been in Pretoria when the Proclamation declaring the annexation of the Transvaal was read. I heard it was very fine. Lord Roberts arrived with a big escort (including some fine Indians), and massed bands played "God Save the Queen," and then the Royal Standard was run up, and then again "God Save the Queen." After that there were no less than six Victoria Crosses for Lord Roberts to pin on—he stood on the steps of the old Dutch church—and then there was a march past of 10,000 troops. I believe the march past took two hours, though the infantry left the Square at the "double."
It is very difficult to judge, but many people here seem to think the war is by no means over yet; however, if Lord Roberts does go home, we shall have K. of K. to finish the business.
The chief thing of interest here early in the month was some difficulty about the three civil surgeons who were still here (of those who came out with us). There has been some muddle since the Governmenttook over the hospital, as to whether they were to have the pay of medical officers engaged at home or of those engaged out here; after some correspondence they were dissatisfied with the terms, and thought they were being hardly treated; and then a wire came that they were to prepare to proceed to England, as their services were no longer required. I expect they will get the matter settled all right when they get home.
It was quite a business getting them all packed up in a hurry, and they had to arrange about selling their horses, &c.
They gave a farewell dinner-party, which we all attended.
The Army Medical Department is a bit unsettling; of course you have to do exactly what you are told, and you are told to do things so suddenly: just a wire comes, and very often next day you move.
Colonel Galway (the P.M.O.) has gone home, and we miss him very much; he has been so particularly nice every time he has been here.
We have had a very quiet time lately. They are closing some beds up at Maritzburg, and sent us down a very good wardmaster and fifteen R.A.M.C. orderlies—some of them men with six or seven years' service.
At first the sisters could hardly realise that these men were really good nurses, as they have been so used to having to do most of the nursing themselves until they had shown each particular orderly how to do things; so they think now that the army sisters, in time of peace, must have a very easy life!
One night we had some people to dinner, and then they gave the men such a good concert. Some of theorderlies helped—one of them plays the violin beautifully, and the little Australian boy "bugled."
Another day a clergyman, who has a boys' school up the line, brought all his boys down to pay us a visit, and they played a cricket match against the medical officers and orderlies.
One other form of amusement has been very popular with the men, though rather an unusual one for hospital patients; we have a Lieutenant of the R.A.M.C. on duty here now, and when he went to the remount depot to secure a horse, he was rather surprised that a very nice-looking beast was willingly handed over to him when he said he would like it; but when they got it up here it promptly chucked all the stableboys in turn, and proved to be a bad Australian buckjumper!
Then the men, patients and orderlies, wanted to try their hand with him, and some of the Australian Bushmen are splendid at sticking on. Now he is getting quite tame, and only bucks a little when they first mount. The daily riding of the buckjumper has amused the whole camp; and I should simply have loved to try my hand at sticking on, but my damaged side won't allow me to ride anything for some time yet, though I am getting about my work all right, going slow.
They have had a very "mixed" lot of horses out here, and many people seem to think the war might have been over now if they had had a better supply of horses at first.
The English chargers have worked awfully well, but the food of the country has not been suitable for them, and the little Boer ponies are much better suited for the rough ground and the poor food.
They are so used to picking their way on the veldt that they hardly ever put a foot into a hole; and then at night they will peck about and nibble odds and ends at which an English horse turns up his nose.
At first the men did not think the Boer ponies were big enough to carry the necessary weight, but now they find they are, and that they wear better, because they are not always hungry, as seems to be the case with the unfortunate big horses. Still, the good old London 'bus horses have done very useful work with the guns.
They have had many horses from New Zealand, Australia, and the Argentine—these last often very bad-tempered beasts.
As the men all seem so well satisfied with these Boer ponies, it might be a good plan after the war to start a big Government breeding station out here, in some bit of healthy grass country. A man told me they could ship horses to England for about £20 for the voyage, and that if it was undertaken in a proper way, it ought not to cost more than about £5 to rear a horse, or perhaps £7 to put a four-year-old on board ship, so they could have one of the best landed in England for under £30, where there is so much trouble about getting the right kind of horses in sufficient numbers. They would be suitable for work in almost any climate, as they have to put up with such rapid changes of temperature here.
We have lately had a R.A.M.C. Major here, partly as a patient and partly as a visitor. He was in Ladysmith through the siege, and had very hard work (so many doctors ill); then he was sent down to a hospital ship as a patient, and very soon the C.O. was called away, and he was put in charge while stillill. He has been three trips in her, and seems to have had a lot of work and worry, and now he is ordered to go up and take charge of a 500-bed hospital, and is not in the least fit for it. They won't spare any R.A.M.C. men to be invalided home just now, as they seem to want to weed out all the civil surgeons first. This man wants the most careful feeding to get him right; at first I was always running after him with egg flips or some little feed, but now he is beginning to enjoy ordinary food better.
I have heard a good deal about the siege from him: he tells me it was awful being responsible for sick men and not being able to get things for them. At one time he had 400 very sick under his charge, and all he could get for them was five, or sometimes six, small tins of condensed milk a day, when they all needed milk. He says that the men had no time to convalesce: it was three days up and out of bed, and then straight to the trenches; the poor fellows were so awfully weak that they used to have to send a mule waggon to cart them down. They put a rifle in their hands, and carted them back again at night.
For a short time, too, we had another Major for a "rest and feed up"; he is an M.P. when he is at home, but was out here with the Yeomanry. He is also on the mend now.
I have had the very sweetest puppy given to me—a little black spaniel. He has been christened "Bobs," and he follows me about everywhere.
I must tell you a little joke about some officers who were here. There is a big Convalescent Depot at Howick, and no one seems to like going there, but at one time we were so full up with officers (and more wanting to come), that the Major chose out three orfour who were practically well, but not quite fit to rough it at the front yet, and sent them up to Howick. We gave them some sandwiches and fruit to console them on the way, and at Maritzburg they bought a bottle of champagne, and were having a great lunch in the train. There was one little man in plain clothes in the carriage besides our party, so they invited him to lunch, but he refused. While they were lunching they were all talking about what a good time they had had here, and what hard luck it was that the C.O. had pitched on them to go up to the "Home for Lost Dogs" (as Howick is called)—every one said it was a horrid hole, and of course they exaggerated all the bad things they had heard about it. When they got to Howick the little man in plain clothes got out, and an orderly came up and saluted and took his bag, and he proved to be the Colonel in charge at Howick!