BLOEMFONTEIN
'Look, father, the sky is English,' said a little girl as they drove
home to Bloemfontein in the glowing sunset.
'English, my dear,' said her father, 'what do you mean?'
'Why,' replied the little one, 'it is all red, white, and blue.'
And in truth, red, white, and blue was everywhere. The inhabitants of
Bloemfontein must have exhausted the stock of every shop. They must have
ransacked old stores, and patched together material never intended for
bunting. Wherever you looked, there were the English colours. No wonder
to the imagination of the little one even the sun was greeting the
victorious English, and painting the western sky red, white, and blue.
We cannot, of course, suppose that all these people who greeted the
victorious British army enthusiastically were really so enthusiastic as
they appeared. But 'nothing succeeds like success,' and those who had
cursed us yesterday, blessed us to-day.
=The Advantages of Bloemfontein.=
It is a matter for thankfulness that the town was spared the horrors of
a bombardment. It was far too beautiful to destroy. Of late years, as
money had poured into the treasury, much had been expended upon public
buildings. The Parliament Hall, for instance, had been erected at a cost
of £80,000. The Grey College was a building of which any city might be
proud. The Post Office was quite up to the average of some large
provincial town in this country, and several other imposing buildings
proved that the capital of the Orange Free State, though small, was 'no
mean city.'
It was literally a town on the veldt. The veldt was around it
everywhere. It showed up now and then in the town where it was least
expected, as though to assert its independence and remind the dwellers
in the city that their fathers were its children.
Wonderfully healthy is this little city. Situated high above sea level,
with a climate so bracing and life-giving that the phthisis bacillus can
hardly live in it, it seemed to our soldiers, after their long march
across the veldt, a veritable City of Refuge. Alas! how soon it was to
be turned into a charnel house!
=The March to Bloemfontein.=
It was to this oasis in the South African desert that Lord Roberts
marched his troops after the surrender of Cronje. It had been a terrible
march from the Modder River, and its severity was maintained to the
end. The difficulty of transport was great, and sickness was beginning
to tell upon the troops. The river water, rendered poisonous by the
bodies of men and cattle from Cronje's camp, and the horrible filth of
his laager, were responsible for what followed. The men for the most
part kept up until the march was over. They had determined to reach
Bloemfontein at all costs, and many of them in all probability lost
their lives through that determination. They ought to have given up long
before they did, but struggled on until, rendered weak by their
prolonged exertions, they had no strength to fight the disease which had
fastened upon them.
The last march of the Guards was one which the Brigade may well remember
with pride, as one of the most famous in its annals. They actually
marched over forty miles in twenty-two consecutive hours, over ground
full of holes of all sorts and sizes, and with barbed wire cut and lying
on the ground in all directions. They marched hour after hour in steady
silence, broken only by the 'Glory! Hallelujah!' chorus of the
Canadians, marched with soleless boots, or with no boots at all, but
with putties wrapped round the bare feet. An hour and a half's rest, and
then on again! On, ever on! They are so tired, they feel they can march
no further, and yet on they go, steadily marching straight forward, a
silent, dogged, determined army out there upon the veldt. Lord Roberts
had promised the Guards that they should follow him into Bloemfontein,
and they intended to be there to do it.
=The Work at Bloemfontein.=
Bloemfontein reached, Christian work began in real earnest. Every one
became 'hard at it' at once. The Rev. E.P. Lowry opened a Soldiers' Home
in the schoolroom of the Wesleyan Church, and day by day provided the
cheapest tea in the town at three-pence per head, of which many hundreds
of the men availed themselves. Here, too, he had meetings night by
night. The Rev. James Robertson was also incessantly at work. The large
tent of the Soldiers' Christian Association was erected in the camp of
the Highland Brigade, and became as usual a centre of splendid Christian
effort. Mr. Black tells us that Lord Roberts gave permission for him to
accompany him to Bloemfontein, and gave every possible encouragement to
the work.
=Lord Roberts Visits the Tent.=
Mr. Glover writes:--
'The tent of which I now have charge--surrounded by thousands of
men of the Highland Brigade, and pitched yesterday on a high
plateau about one and a half miles from town--is, I believe, in
answer to prayer, on the spot where God would have it be,
especially if the numbers attending the first Gospel meeting may be
any criterion.
'In the early morning I had plenty of willing helpers. By about
nine the tent was completed, by ten I had literature, games, etc.,
unpacked and arranged, and before eleven--after inspection of
Naval Brigade--Lord Roberts honoured me with a visit. This was more
than we might have expected, and having shown a keen interest in
inspection--Sankey's hymn-books included--he gave me a hearty
handshake, saying he was pleased to see it, and it would be a great
boon to the men. This visit was a very prompt one. Mr. Black just
handed up a request after Naval inspection. Lord Roberts replied,
"Certainly," and galloped over with his other officers before our
workers could get across.'
'There has been a very heavy demand on writing material by the many
men, who have had scarcely any opportunity to write for two or
three weeks. I hardly know what I shall do for paper, as I have
only one packet left, and could not get a line through by wire
yesterday; I hope, however, you received my wire to-day. There is
room here for a dozen--or even twenty--tents now. We had over
40,000 men before yesterday, when the whole of the Seventh Division
arrived.
'Our first three meetings have been marked by a very hallowed
influence. To-night the tent was packed to overflowing, and our joy
at the close was beyond expression, when twenty dear fellows took a
stand for Christ. The weather is very wet to-night, the men have no
tents, and I gave them the opportunity to remain under the shelter
of our tent. As I write (10.30 p.m.), I suppose there are 120 to
150 here.'[11]
Later on our old friend, Mr. Stewart, took charge of the tent, and Mr.
Hinde assisted him. Mr. Percy Huskisson also spoke at some of the
meetings, and they had glorious times. The Rev. R. Deane Oliver, a
devoted Church of England chaplain from Aldershot, took the meeting on
one occasion, and no fewer than eighteen stood up for prayer.
[Footnote 11: _News from the Front_, May, 1900.]
=Sunday Services in Bloemfontein.=
The Sabbath services held in the camps and town were full of blessing.
In the Wesleyan Church khaki was everywhere, crowding not only every
available seat, but the Communion and the pulpit stairs, and even the
pulpit itself.
Mr. Lowry writes:--
'There must have been not less than 700 soldiers actually with us
that morning. In the afternoon a delightful Bible-class and
testimony meeting was held, at which about forty were present, and
at its close, thanks to the kindness of Mr. and Mrs. Franklin, a
capital tea, though not a fruit tea of the Aldershot type, was
provided for all. The evening service, conducted by Mr. Franklin,
was well attended by the military, and as the clock struck nine,
those that remained to the after-meeting bethought us of
Sergt.-Major Moss and his men, and made ourselves one with them by
singing at the self-same moment their unfailing song, "God be with
you till we meet again."'[12]
The Rev. Stuart and Mrs. Franklin, to whom Mr. Lowry refers, were the
resident Wesleyan minister and his wife. They rendered conspicuous
service to our soldiers, and in fact thought no sacrifice too great to
make on their behalf.
But not long was there a pause in the battle. The troops had to be moved
further and further out. The chaplains went with them. The onward march
to Pretoria commenced, and only an army of occupation was left behind in
Bloemfontein.
[Footnote 12: _Methodist Times_, May 3, 1900.]
=Glimpses of Good Work from Soldiers' Letters.=
We, however, stay with them in Bloemfontein for a short time, that we
may read a few of the Christian soldiers' letters received from that
town, and get some further glimpses of the good work carried on there.
Corporal Lundy writes:--
'Through all the trying marches and battles in which I have been
engaged I have found time to read a portion of God's Word. I have
found my Heavenly Father a personal Friend in this campaign. We
have been on short rations for about a month: just enough to keep
one together.
'The prisoners we have in the fort are always singing psalms and
hymns, but they do not seem to be quite right; there is something
lacking.'
Corporal Simpson says:--
'I am still enjoying the best of health bodily, and so happy in
soul that I could not express myself. Storm clouds gather and
trials come, but still it's Jesus. When bullets are flying around
my head and hunger is pricking me sorely, I can lift up my head
with praise. 'When I saw the little English children at
Bloemfontein running about so gay, many of them so like my own
lambs, my heart seemed as if it would break.'
Another soldier writes:--
'I want to tell you of the great Christian work that is going on in
this great camp. There are four or five very large tents, which are
full every night, and hundreds are turned away. There are men there
who would laugh at the Soldiers' Home in England and scorn to be
seen in the company of Christians. Many such men have been brought
to know Christ through this great and awful war. Mr. Lowry often
speaks to us. He is a grand worker, and we love him. We have been
under the Saviour's care and keeping all the time. We are very
anxious to get back home, and shall welcome peace with one great
shout of joy.'
Another gives us a further glimpse of Christian work:--
'Going along I saw three marquees, on one of which there was
written "Soldiers' Home." I peeped in and saw Pearce, of the
Gloucesters. I marched up to him and told him who I was. Four of
them knew me, and we had a good old talk of the home land. They had
just finished a good old Bible reading, and tea came in. I sat down
for tea with them. At about 6 p.m. we were in the large marquee
putting things ready, and about 6.30 it was full of soldiers,
perhaps about 600. Then we had the dear old Sankey hymns.'
Another grows quite eloquent as he writes:--
'At home I hear there has been much rejoicing, and the reverses
have given place to victories. But the victories have been bought
by the sacrifice of human souls. The altar has been saturated with
the blood of fathers and sons. The bitterness of sorrow has wrung
human hearts in the dear old homeland. In the mansion, in the
cottage, in city and in village, tidings of death have found a
place. But Christ, the Prince of Peace, has given peace to many
lads on the battlefield. Words which were apparently sown in the
darkness have bloomed in the light. Life eternal has been accepted,
and the life of sin has become the life of joy. Behind the veil the
Master stands and sees the awful strife. The Divine plan is hidden
from view, but our faith can see in the distant years the continent
of Africa revealed as a continent of God's people.
'Men have been, and still are, seeking for fame and glory. The
things of heaven, the Christ who died, have been forgotten in the
struggle for things of the world. Thank God for the many souls who
have found Jesus out here. We feel a mighty power within, and we
know it is in answer to the prayers of loved ones in the dear old
land. A wall of prayer surrounds us and we are safe. I feel that I
have let many golden opportunities slip. The harvest is passing and
labourers are few.
'The hearts of our Christian lads have been kept true, and God has
been glorified.'
So testify these Christian men to the power of our holy religion to save
and keep. We thank God that they in their own way have 'kept the flag
flying.'
=The Enteric Epidemic.=
But now began another battle--a battle fiercer and more disastrous to
our men than any other in this Boer campaign. Enteric fever had been
dogging the steps of our army all the way from Cronje's camp, and it
overtook it in full force in Bloemfontein. Very soon the hospitals were
full--crowded--overcrowded. A state of things obtained which, whether it
be a scandal or not, will be a lasting source of regret to every
Englishman, and a dark stain upon the war.
So rapidly did the men fall that accommodation could not possibly be
found for them. They lay about anywhere. The space between the bed-cots
was full of groaning, struggling, dying humanity. In inches of mud and
slush they lay, breathing their lives out all unattended. The supply of
doctors, nurses, and orderlies was altogether inadequate. Tents and
medicines could not be got to the front, for the railway was required
for food supplies, and the army must be fed. It is too early to pass
judgment on the arrangements. We record a few facts, vouched for not
only by the papers from which we quote, but by scores of men who have
come from Bloemfontein, and with whom we have talked.
It is in the remembrance of all that Mr. Burdett-Coutts wrote an article
in the _Times_, and afterwards delivered a speech in the House of
Commons, in both of which he told of the terrible sufferings of our men,
and severely criticised the hospital arrangements. The men returning
from the front, while they one and all declare that everything was done
by the hospital authorities which it was possible for those on the spot
to do, yet mournfully admit that the terrible accounts are not
exaggerated.
=Dr. Conan Doyle's Testimony.=
The _Daily Telegraph_ published the number of deaths from disease at
Bloemfontein during the months of April, May, and the first part of
June. They reach the awful total of 949. Dr. Conan Doyle, in a recent
letter published in the _British Medical Journal_, says:--
'I know of no instance of such an epidemic in modern warfare. I
have not had access to any official figures, but I believe that in
one month there were from 10,000 to 12,000 men down with this, the
most debilitating of all diseases. I know that in one month 600 men
were laid in the Bloemfontein cemetery. A single day in this one
town saw 40 deaths.'
He speaks in the highest terms of the conduct of the sick soldiers.
'They are uniformly patient, docile, and cheerful, with an
inextinguishable hope of "getting to Pretoria." There is a
gallantry even about their delirium, for their delusion continually
is that they have won the Victoria Cross. One patient whom I found
the other day rummaging under his pillow informed me that he was
looking for "his two Victoria Crosses." Very touching also is their
care of each other. The bond which unites two soldier pals is one
of the most sacred kind. One man shot in three places was being
carried into Mr. Gibbs' ward. I lent an arm to his friend, shot
through the leg, who limped behind him. "I want to be next Jim,
'cos I'm looking after him," said he. That he needed looking after
himself never seemed to have occurred to him.'
=The Hospital Orderlies.=
Dr. Conan Doyle, however, reserves his highest praise for the hospital
orderly. We venture to quote at length, because of all workers during
this campaign none deserve higher praise, and none will receive less
reward than the men who have so nobly, so uncomplainingly done the
horrible work of nursing--'the sordid and obscene work,' as Dr. Doyle
calls it--through this frightful epidemic.
'In some of the general hospitals, orderlies were on duty for
thirty-six hours in forty-eight, and what their duties were--how
sordid and obscene--let those who have been through such an
epidemic tell.
'He is not a picturesque figure, the orderly, as we know him. We
have not the trim, well-nourished army man, but we have recruited
from the St. John Ambulance men, who are drawn, in this particular
instance, from the mill hands of a northern town. They were not
very strong to start with, and the poor fellows are ghastly now.
There is none of the dash and glory of war about the sallow, tired
men in the dingy khaki suits--which, for the sake of the public
health, we will hope may never see England again. And yet they are
patriots, these men; for many of them have accepted a smaller wage
in order to take on these arduous duties, and they are facing
danger for twelve hours of the twenty-four, just as real and much
more repulsive than the scout who rides up to the strange kopje, or
the gunner, who stands to his gun with a pom-pom quacking at him
from the hill.
'Let our statistics speak for themselves; and we make no claim to
be more long-suffering than our neighbours. We have three on the
staff (Mr. Gibbs, Mr. Scharlieb, and myself). Four started, but one
left us early in the proceedings. We have had six nurses, five
dressers, one wardmaster, one washerman, and eighteen orderlies, or
thirty-two in all, who actually came in contact with the sick. Out
of the six nurses, one has died and three others have had enteric.
Of the five dressers, two have had severe enteric. The wardmaster
has spent a fortnight in bed with veldt sores. The washerman has
enteric. Of the eighteen orderlies, one is dead, and eight others
are down with enteric. So that out of a total of thirty-four we
have had seventeen severe casualties--fifty per cent.--in nine
weeks. Two are dead, and the rest incapacitated for the campaign,
since a man whose heart has been cooked by a temperature over 103
degrees is not likely to do hard work for another three months. If
the war lasts nine more weeks, it will be interesting to see how
many are left of the original personnel. When the scouts and the
Lancers and the other picturesque people ride in procession through
London, have a thought for the sallow orderly, who has also given
of his best for his country. He is not a fancy man--you do not find
them in enteric wards--but for solid work and quiet courage you
will not beat him in all that gallant army.'
Dr. Conan Doyle has told the story of the hospital orderly, but who
shall tell the story of the doctor and the hospital nurse. In many cases
they have laid down their lives for the men, and all have worked with a
devotion that has seemed well-nigh super-human. But a medical staff
sufficient for two army corps was altogether insufficient to supply the
needs of an army of 200,000 and fight an epidemic of terrible severity.
They did their best. Some person the country will blame, but to these
who so nobly worked and endured the country will say, 'Well done!'
=Terrible Incidents during the Epidemic.=
Tales of horror crowd upon one; stories of men in delirium, wandering
about the camp at night; stories of living men in the agonies of
disease, with dead men lying on either side; stories of men themselves
hardly able to crawl about, turning out of bed to nurse their comrades
because there was no one else to do it.
'Why do you let 'em die?' asked a young soldier by way of a grim joke,
pointing to two dead soldiers close to him, while he himself was
suffering from enteric. 'Why don't you look after 'em better?'
'What can I do? I know nothing about nursing!' was the sad reply.
Just so! That was the difficulty--there was no one to prevent them
dying. How many might have been saved if such had been the case!
It is too early to tell yet in detail the story of Christian work in
connection with this epidemic. Many of the chaplains had left for the
front before it broke out in its intensity, and we have as yet only
fragmentary evidence as to the work done by those left upon the spot. We
have not the slightest doubt that one and all did their work with the
devotion we should expect from such men. We hear of Christian soldiers
who bore splendid witness for Christ in the hospitals, and who were the
means of leading their comrades to the Saviour in the midst of their
sickness, and for such stories we thank God.
=Christian Work in the Fever Hospitals.=
We close this chapter with an extract from a letter from the Rev. Robert
McClelland, Presbyterian Chaplain 1st battalion Cameron Highlanders,
published in _St. Andrew_, and sent us by the courtesy of the Rev. Dr.
Theodore Marshall. It is an eloquent testimony to the value of hospital
work, and gives us a glimpse of what was done at Bloemfontein:--
'When we reached Bloemfontein we found a dozen large hospitals all as
full as they could hold, and at the cemetery gate it was solemn and
painful to see many funerals outside the gate waiting entrance to the
house of the dead. I was told that an Episcopal clergyman was told off
at the cemetery for the sad but necessary work of Christian interment.
You will ask, why this great sickness and mortality? The water, on the
whole, is bad (sometimes absolutely vile), and our masses of soldiers
are not so careful about what they eat and drink as they should be in a
trying climate, scorching sun by day and white frost by night. Dysentery
and enteric fever are the worst. Here is the minister's noblest
vocation, and we could take a dozen Father Damiens for this grand work.
When the fever runs high, or the strength gets wasted and the heart goes
down, a pleasant smile, a kind word, a verse of Scripture, a brief
prayer, goes a long way to revive the drooping spirits. I record my
solemn conviction that hospital work, rightly done, is by far and away
the most needful and the most acceptable of the chaplain's work. But, of
course, like the doctors at the base, we are all wanting to the front to
see the "pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war," while the brave
fellows battling with fever, sickness, and wounds in the hospital are
fighting the stiffest fight of all. And yet there is work for us on the
march and at the front, too. To make yourself a friend and brother, to
seek out and comfort the exhausted and ailing, to speak a word in season
to the weary, to preach "the glorious Gospel of the blessed God" as
opportunity offers--this is a task worthy of the highest powers and
greatest gifts. After being nearly four months on the field, I do not
regret the great sacrifices made in going there.'