On Wednesday (the 23rd) we heard the sad news that our Queen was dead.
It came as quite a blow to us, and even now seems hardly credible; we
had only heard the previous day of her serious condition. All through
the Hospital everyone seems to be experiencing a personal bereavement. I
overheard a Tommy remark, in a subdued tone full of respect, when he was
told the news, "Well she done her jewty." And I am sure it summed up his
and our feelings very accurately. A man has also told me of the death of
Captain McLean, at Krugersdorp, which is very sad; he always looked so
fit. Mr. Cory is now captain of our squadron and the only Sussex
Yeomanry officer in South Africa.
"LONG LIVE THE KING!"
_January 30th, 1901._
You will soon begin to think that I am a permanent boarder at this
place; indeed, I almost feel so myself now; though as a matter of fact I
am expecting to be marked out any hour--the sooner the better, for the
enforced inactivity is by no means free from monotony, not to mention
headaches, toothaches, and sleepless nights, from which one seldom
suffers on the veldt. I have found out a dodge for obtaining a better
night's sleep than is one's usual lot, and that is a good pitched pillow
fight before turning in. Of course, it is advisable not to be caught by
the night sister.
Last night we had a terrific storm, and had to stand by the poles and
tent walls for a long time. The wind, hail and rain were tremendous, and
in spite of our tents all being on sloping ground, with trenches a foot
deep around them, we got a bit of moisture in as it was.
On Monday, His Majesty King Edward VII., was proclaimed in Pretoria, a
salute of guns fired from the Artillery barracks, and all flags
temporarily mast-headed, and back to you good folks at home we sent
echoing our loyal sentiment, "God save the King."
On Saturday, Whiteing waltzed gaily up and paid me a visit, having got
leave into Pretoria from Rietfontein, where he had been left with other
men, all minus noble quadrupeds, and on Sunday another old comrade, the
Great Boleno, darkened the door of our tent and brightened me with the
light of his presence. He had been one of Clements' orderlies for the
last two months, and had accompanied the general into Pretoria, and
succeeded in securing a good civil berth in the town.
[Illustration: "God save the King!" January 1901.]
From these I learnt the fortunes of the battalion up to date. Briefly,
after I left them they were some time at Rietfontein; then at
Buffalspoort, where they did delightful guards, pickets, and early
morning standing to horses; after which those possessed of horses went
on to Rustenburg, I believe, where they now are, the horseless ones
going back into Rietfontein.
So now the Seventh Battalion of Imperial Yeomanry, like many others, is
spread well over the face of the land.[8] Some of the fellows are home;
some on their way thither; some in this hospital, some in others; some
are in the police; some in civil employment; some with sick horses at
Rietfontein; some in a detail camp at Elandsfontein (near Johannesburg);
some with the battalion, at Rustenburg; and some, alas, are not.
[Footnote 8: The subsequent adventures of the battalion under
General Cunningham and later Dixon and Benson I am, of
course, unable to record.]
Whiteing gave me a vivid description of his journey into Pretoria on one
of the steam-sappers running between that town and Rietfontein; they are
known as the Pretoria-Rietfontein expresses. As he put it, they stop for
nothing, over rocks, through spruits and dongas, squelch over one of
French's milestones here and there, the ponderous iron horse snorted on
its wild career till its destination was reached.