Durban, Natal,
April 1, 1900.

That was a strange voyage out on the Tantallon Castle. For one thing, instead of the usual mixed lot of passengers, the boat was nearly full of soldiers; there were very few ladies on board besides one Army Superintendent Sister with a batch of sisters and my little party of six, also a few wives of the senior officers; there were practically no old people or children on board.

As one would expect, with so many young men on board (many of them mere boys), there was a great deal of fun and joking, and yet beneath it all there was an under-current of solemnity.

I think we all felt that it was not possible that we should all return (before we left we heard how many were dying of enteric and dysentery), and we hoped, if we were to be left behind, we should have a chance of doing a bit before we got knocked over. Very few of the officers had ever been under fire, and they felt it was going to be a very new experience, and some of them talked of it with awe. I don't mean that they were the least bit "funky," but they wondered whether they would be certain to remember how to manage their men and lead them on as steadily as if they were on parade; some of them thought they would be sure to duck their heads when the bullets were flying, and it would "look so jolly bad."

We played the usual games on board, but in the morning the upper decks 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:

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.

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