Pinetown, Natal,
November 1900.

Of course you will have heard that poor Prince Christian Victor died at Pretoria of enteric. He was buried in the military cemetery there, and there was a service in the cathedral; I heard it was very impressive—about 1000 troops attended.

I should like to have been in Pretoria when the Proclamation declaring the annexation of the Transvaal was read. I heard it was very fine. Lord Roberts arrived with a big escort (including some fine Indians), and massed bands played "God Save the Queen," and then the Royal Standard was run up, and then again "God Save the Queen." After that there were no less than six Victoria Crosses for Lord Roberts to pin on—he stood on the steps of the old Dutch church—and then there was a march past of 10,000 troops. I believe the march past took two hours, though the infantry left the Square at the "double."

It is very difficult to judge, but many people here seem to think the war is by no means over yet; however, if Lord Roberts does go home, we shall have K. of K. to finish the business.

The chief thing of interest here early in the month was some difficulty about the three civil surgeons who were still here (of those who came out with us). There has been some muddle since the Government took over the hospital, as to whether they were to have the pay of medical officers engaged at home or of those engaged out here; after some correspondence they were dissatisfied with the terms, and thought they were being hardly treated; and then a wire came that they were to prepare to proceed to England, as their services were no longer required. I expect they will get the matter settled all right when they get home.

It was quite a business getting them all packed up in a hurry, and they had to arrange about selling their horses, &c.

They gave a farewell dinner-party, which we all attended.

The Army Medical Department is a bit unsettling; of course you have to do exactly what you are told, and you are told to do things so suddenly: just a wire comes, and very often next day you move.

Colonel Galway (the P.M.O.) has gone home, and we miss him very much; he has been so particularly nice every time he has been here.

We have had a very quiet time lately. They are closing some beds up at Maritzburg, and sent us down a very good wardmaster and fifteen R.A.M.C. orderlies—some of them men with six or seven years' service.

At first the sisters could hardly realise that these men were really good nurses, as they have been so used to having to do most of the nursing themselves until they had shown each particular orderly how to do things; so they think now that the army sisters, in time of peace, must have a very easy life!

One night we had some people to dinner, and then they gave the men such a good concert. Some of the orderlies helped—one of them plays the violin beautifully, and the little Australian boy "bugled."

Another day a clergyman, who has a boys' school up the line, brought all his boys down to pay us a visit, and they played a cricket match against the medical officers and orderlies.

One other form of amusement has been very popular with the men, though rather an unusual one for hospital patients; we have a Lieutenant of the R.A.M.C. on duty here now, and when he went to the remount depot to secure a horse, he was rather surprised that a very nice-looking beast was willingly handed over to him when he said he would like it; but when they got it up here it promptly chucked all the stableboys in turn, and proved to be a bad Australian buckjumper!

Then the men, patients and orderlies, wanted to try their hand with him, and some of the Australian Bushmen are splendid at sticking on. Now he is getting quite tame, and only bucks a little when they first mount. The daily riding of the buckjumper has amused the whole camp; and I should simply have loved to try my hand at sticking on, but my damaged side won't allow me to ride anything for some time yet, though I am getting about my work all right, going slow.

They have had a very "mixed" lot of horses out here, and many people seem to think the war might have been over now if they had had a better supply of horses at first.

The English chargers have worked awfully well, but the food of the country has not been suitable for them, and the little Boer ponies are much better suited for the rough ground and the poor food.

They are so used to picking their way on the veldt that they hardly ever put a foot into a hole; and then at night they will peck about and nibble odds and ends at which an English horse turns up his nose.

At first the men did not think the Boer ponies were big enough to carry the necessary weight, but now they find they are, and that they wear better, because they are not always hungry, as seems to be the case with the unfortunate big horses. Still, the good old London 'bus horses have done very useful work with the guns.

They have had many horses from New Zealand, Australia, and the Argentine—these last often very bad-tempered beasts.

As the men all seem so well satisfied with these Boer ponies, it might be a good plan after the war to start a big Government breeding station out here, in some bit of healthy grass country. A man told me they could ship horses to England for about £20 for the voyage, and that if it was undertaken in a proper way, it ought not to cost more than about £5 to rear a horse, or perhaps £7 to put a four-year-old on board ship, so they could have one of the best landed in England for under £30, where there is so much trouble about getting the right kind of horses in sufficient numbers. They would be suitable for work in almost any climate, as they have to put up with such rapid changes of temperature here.

We have lately had a R.A.M.C. Major here, partly as a patient and partly as a visitor. He was in Ladysmith through the siege, and had very hard work (so many doctors ill); then he was sent down to a hospital ship as a patient, and very soon the C.O. was called away, and he was put in charge while still ill. He has been three trips in her, and seems to have had a lot of work and worry, and now he is ordered to go up and take charge of a 500-bed hospital, and is not in the least fit for it. They won't spare any R.A.M.C. men to be invalided home just now, as they seem to want to weed out all the civil surgeons first. This man wants the most careful feeding to get him right; at first I was always running after him with egg flips or some little feed, but now he is beginning to enjoy ordinary food better.

I have heard a good deal about the siege from him: he tells me it was awful being responsible for sick men and not being able to get things for them. At one time he had 400 very sick under his charge, and all he could get for them was five, or sometimes six, small tins of condensed milk a day, when they all needed milk. He says that the men had no time to convalesce: it was three days up and out of bed, and then straight to the trenches; the poor fellows were so awfully weak that they used to have to send a mule waggon to cart them down. They put a rifle in their hands, and carted them back again at night.

For a short time, too, we had another Major for a "rest and feed up"; he is an M.P. when he is at home, but was out here with the Yeomanry. He is also on the mend now.

I have had the very sweetest puppy given to me—a little black spaniel. He has been christened "Bobs," and he follows me about everywhere.

I must tell you a little joke about some officers who were here. There is a big Convalescent Depot at Howick, and no one seems to like going there, but at one time we were so full up with officers (and more wanting to come), that the Major chose out three or four who were practically well, but not quite fit to rough it at the front yet, and sent them up to Howick. We gave them some sandwiches and fruit to console them on the way, and at Maritzburg they bought a bottle of champagne, and were having a great lunch in the train. There was one little man in plain clothes in the carriage besides our party, so they invited him to lunch, but he refused. While they were lunching they were all talking about what a good time they had had here, and what hard luck it was that the C.O. had pitched on them to go up to the "Home for Lost Dogs" (as Howick is called)—every one said it was a horrid hole, and of course they exaggerated all the bad things they had heard about it. When they got to Howick the little man in plain clothes got out, and an orderly came up and saluted and took his bag, and he proved to be the Colonel in charge at Howick!

We sent off sixty men on the 21st, and, a few days later had seventy men down from Standerton, all supposed to be convalescents, but two of them have developed definite enteric, and as they have been at Standerton for some time ill with something else, they must have become infected up there. I am afraid enteric is getting rather bad again farther up, but of course there always is more at this season, and they are better prepared to tackle it now.

The big hospital at Estcourt has been moved up to Pretoria, and I believe the beds at Maritzburg have been reduced from 1600 to 200; and now we hear that they are having rather a scare lest they should be short of beds on this side.

The other day a man from the Ordnance Department came up to see about putting new sinks in the theatre and otherwise improving the buildings, so that does not look as though we were to close just yet; but I think if the place is kept going into the New Year they are bound to send an Army Superintendent in my place, as it would be too "irregular" to leave me here now that there are so many army sisters about (with some hospitals already closed), and not by any means all of them acting as superintendents.