were given up to the men, who drilled and did physical exercises to keep
them fit. At the request of Colonel H., we sisters held some classes on
"first aid." About thirty officers put down their names as wishing to
learn, and attended for half an hour every morning, and we taught them
simple bandaging, how to stop hæmorrhage, and how to apply improvised
splints, &c.
At Madeira we could not get much in the way of news from the front, so
we supposed that nothing very exciting had happened yet; we had a few
hours ashore to stretch our legs, and paid a visit to the fruit market.
There was an American man-of-war anchored close to us, and when we left
she manned her yards, and the men cheered tremendously, and her band
played "Rule Britannia."
There were three deaths on board during the voyage, all reservists, and
all from pneumonia; it seemed so awfully sad that they should have given
up their homes and everything to come out, and then have got knocked
over before they had even seen the enemy or fired a shot. I heard that
these men were ill before they came on board, but would not report
themselves in case they should be left behind, and they came on board
straight from their beds in bitter cold.
I have never been to sea in such a crowded ship before; there were four
in my cabin, and in a week or two at sea you get to know the good and
bad points of your cabin mate's character better than in several months
ashore.
At our table there was a Captain ---- in charge of a company of
"Gentlemen Yeomanry," who were going out, paying all their own expenses:
it was rather strange for him having his troopers travelling in the
first saloon. He had been in the army, but had given it up because he
could not get five months free for hunting, besides some shooting and
fishing!
There was another captain also at our table who had been A.D.C. to
General Kitchener in the Soudan campaign, and was going out to join him
again; he had seen a lot of service, and was very interesting.
Amongst the soldiers in the third-class there are two District Messenger
boys going out as trumpeters for the Cape Mounted Rifles.
Most of the officers and some of the soldiers were inoculated against
typhoid during the voyage. But for a scarcity of lymph we also should
have been inoculated, to avoid waste of time after our landing, but we
gave it up, as it was more important for the men who would probably be
sent straight up country.
Sunday on board was kept very quietly; it was good to see a large
attendance at the Holy Communion service in the early morning, and the
parade service was a very hearty one; we had the well-known hymns,
"Lead, Kindly Light," and "Onward, Christian Soldiers," and then one
that I did not know so well, beginning "O Lord, be with us when we
sail," and containing the two following verses, which seemed especially
appropriate:
"If duty calls from threaten'd strife
To guard our native shore,
And shot and shell are answering fast
The booming cannon's roar,
Be Thou the main-guard of our host,
Till war and danger cease;
Defend the right, put up the sword,
And through the world make peace."
The last night on board we had a farewell dinner-party, not sitting at
our usual places, but making little parties of our friends. Whenever I
go for a voyage, I think there is something a little sad when it comes
to an end, and we all part and go our different ways, but there was
something especially sad in saying good-bye to all these bright young
fellows, who had to go off to "face the shot and shell."
We landed at Cape Town on 20th March, and found that the troopship, with
our medical officers on board, had arrived only that morning, though
they sailed some days before we did; they had had a good deal of illness
on board, and had to send nearly fifty men into hospital at Cape Town,
and they had had two deaths during the voyage.
Soon after we got into dock I received orders to take our sisters and
their baggage up to a boarding-house in Roeland Street. This we
accomplished with the help of the agents, who rejoice in the name of
Divine, Gates & Co.; but we had not been established there very long
when I received further orders that we should rejoin our ship in a day
or two, as our beds were more urgently required round in Natal than in
Cape Colony.
Cape Town was in a great state of excitement; martial law was in force,
and armed patrols were riding about, and there were constant rumours
that the Boers were close to the Cape.
The docks were crowded with men, horses, and stores, all being
disembarked, and sent up country as rapidly as possible.
I found my brother, who had been on circuit when the war began, and
could not get back to his home at Kimberley. He had been for some time
at the Cape, and was shortly going to England.
I met a good many friends in Cape Town; some from Kimberley who had come
down to recruit after the siege. All the civilians whom I met from there
were loud in their appreciation of Mr. Cecil Rhodes and the way he had
worked for them and cheered them through the siege--his especial
thoughtfulness for the women and children.
I took the sisters to see his beautiful house, Groot Schuur, and to tea
with some old friends of mine at Kenilworth.
I was anxious to see all I could of the military hospitals and how they
were managed, as I had had no experience of work for the army; but my
first visit to a large Military General Hospital was not encouraging, as
I thought the wards looked dirty and untidy to a degree; the men had
portions of food left on their lockers from previous meals, and this
food was covered with flies. Knowing how much enteric there was in the
camp, this, I thought, a great source of danger. The men were cheery, as
usual, but complained that sleep was difficult to obtain owing to the
live-stock in the beds; in some of the wards the legs of the beds were
placed in condensed milk tins (containing some disinfectant), but even
this was not always successful.
Another day I visited the Portland Hospital, and found everything very
trim and the men very comfortable; the sisters had very nice quarters;
they seemed rather horrified to hear that we had not brought any English
maids with us, as they said they could never get on without theirs in
this savage land (four miles from Cape Town!); but I have had to do
with servants out here before, and prefer to manage with natives.
I subsequently visited another large general hospital, and found it much
better kept than the first one, and the patients more comfortable; so I
conclude it depends on the head a good deal, and not so much on the
system.
A party of wounded men came in while I was there, most of them
convalescents, but a few looked rather bad, and it seemed to be a very
long time before they were put to bed.
I also visited the Red Cross Depot, and saw a good many ladies at work
packing bags for the ambulance trains--a suit of pyjamas, a sponge, a
handkerchief, a little writing-paper and a pencil, &c., in each bag,
which must be a most welcome present for a soldier straight from the
veldt.
We re-embarked on the same ship on 24th March, and had a very rough trip
up the coast, calling at Port Elizabeth and East London. At the latter
place the weather was very hot with a cloudy sky, and all the officers
were in their white suits, when we were suddenly _struck_ by a
tremendous rain-storm with thunder and lightning, and the wind howling
in the rigging; they had no time to change out of their white clothes,
and in a few minutes looked like drowned rats.
The steam was up and everything made fast in case we should have to put
out to sea, but the storm soon passed over.
We reached Durban on 31st March, and now there is much speculation as to
where we are to pitch our camp.
XXVII
PINETOWN, NATAL,
_April 1900_.
When we arrived at Durban the town was very full, and the sisters had to
stay on board until rooms could be found for them in a boarding-house.
Late in the afternoon a tug came out with a message that we were to
disembark and go to a house called "Sea Breeze" in Smith Street. It was
rather rough at the anchorage, and we had to get into a basket and were
slung over the ship's side into the tug, then the tug had to go round
and pick up a lot of lighters that had been supplying other ships with
coal, &c., and by the time we got into harbour it was getting dusk, and
the Customs House, supposing that all the passengers had landed earlier,
was closed.
I had meant to leave our heavy baggage in the Customs House till we knew
where we were going; but it was impossible to leave it loose on the
jetty, and there were no cabs or trolleys about, but a mob of riksha
boys, dressed up in feathers and horns and beads (and very little else),
who were all clamouring to be allowed to transport us up town.
Eventually we piled our baggage on these rikshas, and, distributing the
sisters amongst it, we gave the boys the address, and, with much
shouting, our cavalcade started off at a trot; we soon reached Smith
Street, but then our troubles began, no one knowing Sea Breeze; we
searched up and down the street, and one old gentleman told me he had
lived all his life in Smith Street, but had never seen a Sea Breeze
there!
I tried all the places where I thought our officers might be--the
R.A.M.C. Depot, hotels, &c.--but could not find them, the sisters all
very tired and hungry, and some of them rather nervous; then, by good
luck, we met our Major, who had come out to see if we were comfortable
in our quarters, and discovered that we had been given the name of the
wrong street!
About 9 P.M. we found the house; but the landlady had given us up, and,
thinking we should not land till the morning, had gone out; but some
other lodgers (refugees from Johannesburg) raided the larder for our
benefit, and we thoroughly enjoyed our supper.
The next day we found the idea had been to send us up to Mooi River, but
it was thought that, with the winter coming on, that would be a cold
place for sick troops, so we had better be nearer the coast; and then a
Durban gentleman came forward, and most kindly offered the use of his
estate of 150 acres at Pinetown; it is only about seventeen miles from
Durban, but much higher up and more healthy; so the offer was gratefully
accepted, and the building was at once begun.
Then followed a time when we all had to forget that we had come out to
"nurse the sick and wounded," and turn to work at other jobs.
Before they were ready for us to go up to Pinetown we were all
inoculated against typhoid. It was not a pleasant experience: my
temperature went up to 102°, and I had intense abdominal pain and
headache; it seemed like a very concentrated touch of typhoid, but it
kept us in bed only two or three days, and the following five or six
days we felt as weak as though we had been ill for a month.
As soon as possible I went up to see where our hospital was to be built,
and found them busy levelling the ground for the tin pavilions.
There were three permanent buildings already up on the land; one, we
thought, would make a good ward for officers (eight beds); another had a
large room we thought would do for our staff mess-room, and some small
rooms suitable for medical officers' bedrooms; and the third was a row
of rooms that was apportioned for sisters' rooms, and various offices,
stores, &c.
The orderlies were established in tents a little way off; they were all
St. John's Ambulance men, and camping out was a new experience for them,
so of course they did not know how to make themselves as comfortable as
regular soldiers would have done in a new camp. They had joined
expecting to have the excitement of stretcher work at the front, and
when they were told off to level the ground for the buildings, or to
carry up the planks and the heavy boxes from the railway trucks, and to
help the builders put up the pavilions, there was a good deal of
grumbling.
At first the Major in command would not hear of our going up to stay
until they had got some more of the stores up--beds, sheets, &c.; but
when he found how slowly they got on, and how discontented the men were
at having to rough it, he gave leave for me to go up with one other
sister, as we thought we might help a bit, and, at any rate, could show
the men we were willing to take our share.
The hospital we had brought out was for one hundred beds, but there was
urgent need for more beds, so the P.M.O. had given orders that more huts
were to be sent to us, and that we were to open as a two hundred bed
hospital.
The railway was so hard worked that we had the greatest difficulty to
get trucks to bring the building materials up from Durban, and the docks
at Durban were so crowded with stores that it was most difficult to get
the things through.
Some of our medical officers worked nobly at the docks, getting the
things packed on to trucks, while the others superintended the unloading
at Pinetown.
Every engine seemed to be needed for taking men, horses, stores, water,
&c., up to the front, and the only wonder was that so few accidents
occurred on the much over-worked single line of rails.
We had landed on the last day of March, and on the evening of 12th April
Sister ---- and I went up to Pinetown by rail, taking all the sisters'
heavy baggage; and the other sisters went to give some temporary help on
one of the hospital ships at Durban, until we could fix up some rooms
for them. Some of the officers met us at the station, and a fatigue
party had brought a truck for our baggage. A tramp of about ten minutes
through thick sand brought us to our new abode.
Our first meal, a kind of supper, was somewhat quaint; a bare deal table
in a room dimly lighted by two candles stuck into bottles; plates,
knives, and forks had to be used with great economy, as there were not
enough to go round; some good salt beef and biscuits and some fruit--and
we were waited upon by an orderly in his shirt sleeves, who was an
engine-driver when at home in England, and knew more about greasing
engines than about cleaning the grease off plates!
The weather was very hot, and the officers all looked dead tired, so we
soon decided to turn in, and were escorted to our room (in the other
building) by the light of a guttering candle, as there were said to be
many snakes about.
They had found us two beds, and actually some sheets, but absolutely
nothing else in our room. However, I hunted up the cook, and he lent me
a bucket with some water in, so that we might start fair with a wash in
the morning.
The next morning we were up before six, and started work in earnest,
unpacking cases, sorting stores, and putting them away in different
store-rooms, and trying to find the things we were most in need of for
household use.
Some of the hospital fittings had been put ashore at Cape Town and not
yet sent on, and more of the necessaries were still down at Durban, so
that it was very difficult to push on the building work; and all the
time we knew the Field Hospitals were crowded up, and needing to send
men down to us to give them a chance of recovery; and we heard that the
generals said they could not fight any more till they could clear the
Field Hospitals.
All the cases of stores were numbered, so that when we wanted any
particular thing, we had to look up in the list the number of its case,
and then hunt about till we found that number; all day long it was "Have
you seen 4507?"--"No, I want 5470." Sometimes we found a lot of jugs,
and then could not find the basins; sometimes a lot of saucers, and no
cups; and it seemed as though we never should get order out of the
chaos.
At first we had no house-boys, and the orderlies were all busy carrying
the building materials up, so Sister and I kept the bedrooms tidy, and
the medical officers (in return) carried the water for the baths! As
soon as I could, I annexed a fine old Kaffir as a house-boy, and "John"
is a great stand-by now.
We tried first of all to fit up rooms with the bare necessary furniture
for the rest of the officers and sisters, so that they could all come up
and help us.
If you saw the jetty at Durban you would wonder that any stores ever got
sent up to their right destination; literally hundreds of tons of boxes
stacked up in hopeless confusion. Durban is a bit overdone by military
requirements, and quite run out of some stores.
On April 3rd we were made very anxious by a strong rumour that Mafeking
had fallen. They say that _all_ the little children have died there.
Yesterday we heard of the loss of a British convoy and five guns, and
also that the Boers were going into laager again quite near to where
Cronje was taken.
Durban is full of refugees, and of Ladysmith people recruiting after the
siege. I went over one of the hospital ships, the _Lismore Castle_,
before I came up here, and it was melancholy to see the _skeletons_ from
Ladysmith; one quite young fellow told me he had come here from India,
got typhoid soon after the siege began, then, as soon as he began to
convalesce, the only food they could give him was mealy meal and a
little horse-flesh, so he got dysentery. He is now mending, but it is
slow work with them all.
Before we came, our rooms had been occupied by refugees, and fleas
abound; I catch about six _ter die_ and once in the night. Luckily we
are fairly free from mosquitoes. It is awfully hot, and the medical
officers go about in trousers and vests only: we wish we could wear as
little!
This is a very scrappy letter; we work from 6 A.M. to dusk, and then I
have been scribbling a little before turning in, but I am weary to a
degree, and must fill up the gaps in my next.
XXVIII
PINETOWN, NATAL,
_April 1900_.
You must not expect me to tell you anything about the progress of the
war; the papers here give us very little news; of course we are
constantly hearing many startling rumours, but they are frequently
contradicted the next day, and probably you have more reliable news of
the doings of our troops in your papers at home than we have.
So I will just jot down things about our daily work here.
We are getting into order by degrees, but at present life is rather a
struggle against difficulties.
You see we are not quite a Civil Hospital, nor are we quite a Military
Hospital; for the 100 beds we brought out we were well equipped, and had
many more comforts than a Military Hospital would have been provided
with, but now we are to have 200 beds, and our resources are somewhat
strained.
I found that the mess waiter was in his shirt sleeves because the poor
man had been nursing a case of scarlet fever on board ship, and all his
kit had to be burnt, so I fitted him up in some pyjama coats to wait at
table, until I could get time to go in to Durban and buy him some white
drill jackets.
After a few days' work at unpacking, we got quite civilised in our room
fittings, and sent for the other sisters to come up and help.
If there had not been such need for hurry in getting the place ready,
it would really have been very amusing; much of the furniture had been a
good deal damaged on the way, and we all tried our hands at mending--to
see our senior surgeon (who is on the staff of a large hospital in
England) sitting on the ground trying to fit a leg on to a washstand, or
to make a drawer run into a chest of drawers, is a fine sight; I have
taken a few snaps with my kodak of the staff in unprofessional garb, and
doing unprofessional jobs. I hope they will come out all right, but I
don't see much prospect of having time to develop them.
The theatre is fitted up, but has not been used yet, and Mr. ---- is
working hard getting the X-Ray room into order, and his apparatus fixed
up.
Our food supplies (always called "skoff" here--the Kaffirs' name for
food) were very erratic at first. Sometimes no meat would turn up, and
then we made shift with bully-beef, which is really quite good, or
sardines; sometimes no bread, then we used the barrel of biscuits that
lived in the mess-room--you have no idea how difficult it is to eat
enough of those biscuits to satisfy you (they are nearly as hard as dog
biscuits!), and in about half-an-hour you feel starving again; sometimes
there is no butter--then marmalade. Now things are coming up more
regularly, and I hope they will continue to do so, as it is easy for us
to joke about short commons for ourselves, but it is no joke when you
have sick men needing careful feeding up.
One thing is very nice, and that is that the fruit is nearly ripe, and
we shall soon have plenty of pineapples and oranges.
Our cook seems to try to make the best of things; he is only quite a
lad, but he is managing to cook for us all (including the men), with
only wood under a sort of gridiron, in the open air.
There was much joy the other day when we came across a case of "Mother's
Crushed Oats"! and nearly all seem to enjoy porridge for breakfast. As
it is still very hot, the food supplies are difficult to manage, the
meat hardly keeping from one meal to another, even when cooked; and with
very limited store-rooms I find it very difficult to see that everything
is kept covered up and fly-proof.
So far we have had no fresh milk, but now two cows have arrived, and I
am having to watch the boys milk them, as we pay for the milk by the
number of bottles supplied!
We have just heard that the poor old _Mexican_ has gone down on her
voyage out: no lives lost, but we fear our letters have gone to the
bottom with her.
One thing I am worried about is that a big tank I had especially asked
to have, in which we might boil all the typhoid linen, has been broken
on the way, and I don't think I shall be able to get another. We are
establishing a place for the washerwomen behind the hospital, on a slope
where their water will run away from our direction; I should like to
have had a separate place for the staff's washing, but cannot manage it,
so must be contented with keeping special women and special tubs, &c.,
for it.
The men are really working very well now, and it is hard work they have
to do; they required a good deal of persuasion to work on Saturday
afternoon; but we hear the Field Hospitals are crowded up with 2000
sick, on this side alone, so we must push on the building.
We are getting everything into order in the big store-room, so that as
soon as any of the big pavilions are finished we shall have all the
fittings quite ready to issue.
I have been down to see the P.M.O. in Durban. He seems very nice, and
willing to give us all the help he can; he seems glad that we are going
to have the extra beds, and promises to send us more doctors, sisters,
and orderlies; we rather hope that some of the orderlies will be
R.A.M.C. men, and that they will put a little backbone into our crew,
who, I daresay, will be better when we get into order, but many of them
are now rather inclined to say "We didn't pass our exams, and come out
here, to do navvies' work."
Of course I shall be glad to have the larger place, as I know it is so
badly needed, but the prospect of seeing 100 sick men properly looked
after by these untrained men was alarming, and now the prospect of 200
sick men with more (possibly) untrained orderlies, plus some unknown
sisters, is more alarming still; but I suppose we shall shake along
somehow.
I shall be so glad when the men can get time to cut the long grass round
the camp, as there are a good many snakes about (two have been killed
quite near my room). We all wear canvas gaiters, as a sort of
protection; but there are other weird creatures about, and one night a
wire came from the next station to say that a leopard, or some such
creature, had carried off a Kaffir baby, and we were to look out for the
beast; so the men were much excited, but they have not seen anything of
him.
Last Sunday was Easter Sunday, and the men had a much needed day of
rest, but the sisters and officers went on most of the day unpacking and
sorting the things most urgently needed. We knocked off in the evening,
and went to service at the Pinetown church.
The next day (April 16th) we had started work as usual, when the
Sergeant-major's whistle summoned all hands: a wire had come to say that
a troop train had been thrown off the line about three miles from here.
The Major went off with the medical officers and orderlies, with
stretchers. I provided them with brandy, water, a mug, a corkscrew, &c.,
and then hunted up some lint and bandages, and a few splints, and sent
them after them.