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 2.30 P.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 right through, 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 the Daily 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 6 A.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 9 A.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 our small guide up the Thaba Inyama, one peak of which is "Spion Kop."

We had with us a January number of the Natal Mercury giving a full account of the day, 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; and then to 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 1 P.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 shy me calling at an unknown officers' mess!) instead of going to tea with "those estimable females," as they would have shown me more of 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.