Chapter 5
It was Mr. Becker's turn, but he was hindered from coming; rather glad, for wanted to be there myself to-day; "En palmtakken waren in hunne handen" (And palms were in their hands).
Mrs. Steyn found the lost kinderharp (hymn book) I had given Lena few days ago; found under her pillow in morgue tent this afternoon. When I gave it to her she said, "Maar, minheer, moet tog nie vergeet om mij naam in te schrijve" (Sir, you must be sure to write my name in it). So I must remember to do it still. Poor Mrs. Steyn, how resignedly she bears her cross! Sang "Voor eeuwig met den Heere" at grave.
Visits to-day on other side--269, 268, 487, 379, 178, 171, 262.
Called at 329, and found it was same tent where I heard such groans last night; imbecile woman, 53 years; very sick; great suffering; spoke to her, and she actually called me by my name; glad I found tent again; old father of 86; always so keen and hearty at wood-chopping.
Weeping woman came to me after funeral; "Minheer, zal minheer nie zoo goed wees nie om vir Mrs. Engelbrecht in die hospitaal te vertel dat haar kindje dood is, zij word nou begrave?" (Sir, will you be good enough to tell Mrs. Engelbrecht in the hospital that her child has died; she is to be buried now). So another painful task is in store for me.
Received short note from Assistant Superintendent requesting me to discontinue briefies for foodstuffs, "I have now three medical officers who are well able to attend to the sick and needy." And this man (Superintendent) himself requested and authorised me to issue such notes but four days ago. Comment on whole matter superfluous. O for a little more logic and consistency with some people! However, I suppose I can interpret these things in my own way.
Held woman's prayer meeting this afternoon; good audience; "Viel aan de voeten van Jezus en vertelde Him al de waarheid" (Fell at the feet, of Jesus and told Him all the truth); six prayers; but O! such long and wearying ones; thought men could drag it out, but let me be silent about the women.
House 3 feet high; doorway up; grandish.
* * * * *
Sunday, September 29.--No diary yesterday; too tired and listless; eager for bed.
What a grand thing to rest after work! Sleep, glorious, blessed sleep; feel like writing an ode to extol its virtues. Yesterday scorcher of a day.
Spent morning in old quarter; work most wearisome.
So many who call me in and pour out all their sorrows, and it is so terribly hard always to be ready and willing to listen and sympathise. One actually grows "dof" (dull) from sheer weakness. O the monotony of sorrows and troubles!
Called in to see woman who had just received news that husband had fallen in battle. Such sorrow is too great to realise; one can only stand afar off to behold--and weep.
At 3 p.m. suddenly told that no one to take women's prayer meeting; so had hurriedly to go without so much as minute's preparation; quite large crowd.
Mr. Becker played me trick; he took funerals; four I believe, so I had time to make short visit hospital.
Doctor stopped me two days ago, and said the man B---- in hospital wished to be left alone; so left him alone; but this evening he has gone to meet his God. Could never make him out. Was it ignorance or obstinacy or indifference? May God have mercy on his soul.
Old Mr. Norval also died this afternoon; thank God; too terrible to see him struggling with Death; unconscious the last three days; glad read Psalm and prayed with him a few days ago.
And so our fellow-men around us are carried off by Death; and now they are solving the great mystery of the Hereafter. Stupendous thought!
These same men, women and children with whom I prayed, to whom I spoke about eternal things--they know now what we are burning to know. Is there Life after Death? Is there a Heaven? Is there a Hell? What do the departed do just now? Is there perhaps a purgatory where souls are purified? Is there a Throne above, around which a crowd that cannot be numbered stand clothed in long white robes? What about the palm branches? And a thousand more questions.
"The just shall live by his FAITH."
Last night children's service in lower church; great crowd; "En tot zich zelven gekomen zijnde" (And when he came to himself).
This evening similar service in upper church; very bright and hearty; Miss Dussel sang hymn and solo part of "Mannen breeders" (Hold the Fort); nice change in programme; accompanied her on autoharp.
This morning went over to village and exchanged pulpits with Mr. Becker; felt quite lost in big, empty church.
Old sermon had to "bite off spit"[60]; goodness knows where I would have found time to prepare one.
Had nice chat with Macdonald's father.
Grand dinner; roast mutton and actually a dish full of gravy! Could scarce believe my eyes; real gravy; how glorious; and rice too. Think of it! Let me be silent about the dish of stewed peaches--I might fill pages--a dish fit for the gods. Wonder what the look and smell of a vegetable is? Have just faint recollection of such names as potatoes, onions, beans, cauliflower, pumpkin, but I get a bit blurred when try to discriminate; long absence has stunted my memory. Believe there is a vegetable called beetroot too, and wonder if the name cabbage is correct. By the way, what do we call that stuff one sometimes puts on bread for breakfast and tea? I believe, too, having heard and partaken of a preparation called jam in days gone by. And what, now what, do they always put in tea and coffee in other places? Fancy it has whitish colour; have an idea it can be drunk pure too.
Authority (Assistant Superintendent): "En wanneer eet julle Boere dan breakfast?" (And when do you Boers eat your breakfast?)
"O, ik het laatste in Brandfort breakfast ge'eet; hier het ik schars genoeg vir dinner" (O, I had breakfast last at Brandfort; here I get scarce enough for dinner).
Had nice nap on sofa after dinner; what a noble thing a house is; how spacious, how high, how cool! How unnecessarily large people do build houses nowadays.
At 2.45 had to race back for afternoon service; young people; great crowd (700 about); prepared sermon during the fifteen minutes' walk. Record service; forty-five minutes.
Went through two wards hospital.
Mrs. De Wet dying; poor old mother! But she said all along she wouldn't get well again; several very sick there.
Now for glorious bed.
P.S.--Not yet; there came wail from hospital; so I went up; as I surmised, Mrs. De Wet "gone home"; and shall I soon forget that little band of women in black returning to their tents while the pale sad moon cast its shadows of sympathy!
"Ach, minheer, het ik nie gezondigd dat ik nie wou zien en geloof dat zij gaat sterve?" (O, sir, did I not sin, in that I would not see and believe that she would die?)
"Neen. Dank God liever voor die Liefde in u die u verblind heeft. Dank God dat gij hebt liefgehad" (No. Thank God rather for the Love within which blinded your eyes. Thank God that you have loved).
Another solving the great problem of the Unknown!
* * * * *
Monday, September 30.--End of month; cannot help remembering that this was our finest, loveliest month in the Boland (Western Province); and here we have been grovelling in the dust.
Another frightful day of wind and dust; two evils; open the tent to ventilate, and anon everything covered with layer fine dust; close tent and one gets suffocated. And one's clothes! Let me rather change topic.
After burdens of yesterday felt more inclined for good quiet rest, but tent too unbearably hot; so decided to do the hospital; there knew I would find things cool.
First to men's ward; then through three women's wards, and finally to convalescent ward; nice and cool in wards, but grew horribly tired. What with a word of cheer all round and a straight talk to boot, and after a Psalm, short address, and finally (and hardest of all) a prayer--great weariness becomes master, and one feels regularly "pap."
Hospital grown so large lately; takes few hours to "do" it thoroughly.
Best of all, one has assurance and conviction such visits are indeed source of comfort and blessing; mindful now of that sick mother in No. 3; so despondent, and how she thanked me after visit; "Ik voel nou weer blij in mij hart" (I feel glad at heart again). Psalm 115; "Vertrouw op den Heere; Hij is mijn hulp en mijn schild" (Trust in the Lord; He is our help and our shield); "De Heere is onzer gedachtig geweest" (The Lord has been mindful of us); beautiful.
To my utter surprise found Mrs. Fourie in hospital; ailing lately; sure this is much best for her. (The Van As's and Mr. and Mrs. F. form one family circle here.)
Anyhow, this afternoon simply "dead off"; lay on bed till 3 p.m.; and yet one always feels uncomfortable to be idle one hour; it feels like neglect of duty. What one longs for is possibility to have one day or afternoon off regularly; something to look forward to; some time when one can sit still.
Funerals four (Mr. N., Mr. B., Mrs. De W., and girlie); "Dood, waar is uw prikkel?" (Death, where is thy sting?).
Felt unhappy and uneasy all through address, for B. had requested me to leave him alone. Well, anyway my address was directly for the living and not about the dead.
Girl at door this afternoon; "Minheer, het min nie vir mij een Wonderboek?" (Sir, havn't you got a Wonderbook for me?) "Hoe'n soort boek?" (What kind of book?) "Een Wonderboek" (A Wonderbook). "Een Wonderboek!" (head scratchings) "Nee, dit het ik tog glad nie. Maar hoe'n soort boek is dit?" (A Wonderbook! No, I havn't that at all; but what kind of book is it?) "Minheer, daar is tekste in om te leer" (Sir, there are verses in it to learn). "Maar is dit dan nie een Bijbel wat jij wil he?" (But isn't it a Bible you want?) "Ja, minheer, dit is een Bijbel wat ik wil he" (Yes, sir, it is a Bible). New name for Bible--Wonderboek. Not bad!
After tea called to visit very sick old man; long talk; no assurance of forgiveness of sins. Spoke earnestly on Reconciliation with God as first step; am afraid old man disappointed in me; fear he wanted me to recite beautiful Psalms and so forth.
Now for line re house; walls nearly done; two windows; to-morrow roof; edifice stands "met 'n oprechte boog' '(with great show); talk of day; Pastorie.
Just returned from hospital; fear Mrs. Engelbrecht won't last through night.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 27: Condensed milk.]
[Footnote 28: I had in my innocence written to Mr. Robertson to enlist his sympathy on behalf of some people who wished to be removed to other Camps where their families were. In this letter I casually mentioned the meat affair. In the second letter, to my mother (who was collecting to send me a fresh small supply of invalid food), I stated that she was on no account to send such things unless it could be guaranteed that I should have the sole right to distribute. I adopted this precaution because I found that the authorities reserved for themselves the right of distributing all goods (foodstuffs) sent by private Relief Committees, doing with such as they chose. Needless to say, both letters were destroyed.]
[Footnote 29: This can be altogether misconstrued. The "reasonable" was only in comparison with the stormy interview of the day before, when the Superintendent attacked me most fiercely. When I began the second interview by saying I wished to resign, he changed front altogether. It had been purely a game of bluff on his part.
It would perhaps be well to state here my attitude towards the authorities in Camp.
It did not take me very many days to see exactly how things stood, and I determined to have absolutely nothing to do with these men: to ask no favours, and to be under no obligation to them for anything. Of course, there came days when I was forced, under stress of circumstances, to eat these resolutions.]
[Footnote 30: Martie Snyman.]
[Footnote 31: My great zeal in this matter led me to be rather severe and inconsistent; just the same as a teacher who will stand no excuses from his pupils.]
[Footnote 32: Betty Lotz.]
[Footnote 33: This child of four years gnashed all her teeth to pieces before she died. She obstinately refused all nourishment, and told her mother she did not want to live longer. She was indeed a marvel. I gave the mother beef tea, which was all this child lived on for two weeks. The mother used deceitfully (!) to give it beef tea when it called for water.]
[Footnote 34: On the ground.]
[Footnote 35: Aunt; she was really the grandmother, though. Reference is made later to this same case.]
[Footnote 36: For cocoa.]
[Footnote 37: These ladies never approached me, and yet they might have known that I would naturally know more about the state of the Camp than anyone else. The Superintendent led them about--where he chose, I suppose. They were regarded with universal contempt by the people. Their report I have not yet seen, but I know this: that the Superintendent was not immediately dismissed as he should have been. (This was only done in December.) Perhaps the subsequent extension of the hospital and removal to a better site were due to these ladies' suggestions. I remember, though, that we had quite decent meat (beef) during the few days that they visited the camp.]
[Footnote 38: I had brought with me six tins syrup, a few tins jam, 1 lb. of tea, and a little oatmeal.]
[Footnote 39: The Rev. J. Steytler, who had also gone to labour in a camp. He was sent away for political reasons.]
[Footnote 40: This was my daily dilemma: Speak out and protest, and be removed or imprisoned--hold silence and [Transcriber's note: illegible word] the coward, and remain in the work. And I chose the latter.]
[Footnote 41: The rule was that a card, with the number of any tent where medical attendance was desired, should be pinned to the Chemist's Tent before a certain hour in the morning. Many chose to have no attendance, so great was their fear and dread for two of the doctors. Many, too, in spite of their cards, were never visited.]
[Footnote 42: Dutch idiom, literally translated, "pull through."]
[Footnote 43: This calamity, fortunately, only cast its shadow--it never fell. The Rev. Mr. Becker used to come over every afternoon, and continued this labour of love until the end of November, when he was prohibited from visiting the camp any more. How faithful he was! How well I remember the little figure in black flitting hither and thither among the tents. We seldom met in camp, but many a time I smuggled into a tent where I had seen him enter, just to learn from him to pray.]
[Footnote 44: Mr. Otto, the Schoolmaster of Dewetsdorp, a God-fearing man, with a large heart and a great soul--a blessing to many.]
[Footnote 45: The last day for the Boers to lay down arms, according to Kitchener's great proclamation.]
[Footnote 46: Whereon I used to hang out my bedding.]
[Footnote 47: Never was there crueller irony of fate than in this doctor's case. He was altogether unpopular with the authorities, and was at last dismissed for incompetence. When the news of his dismissal became known, a petition was drawn up in his lines, praying that he might remain. This was granted. The day I left hospital he was carried in, stricken with enteric--and he died.]
[Footnote 48: Biltong is dried beef. These people were new arrivals. Mr. Van As and I often remarked to each other that one could readily distinguish the new arrivals from the rest--the former always appearing ruddy and in good health.]
[Footnote 49: Baby Van As.]
[Footnote 50: Which I practically stole.]
[Footnote 51: Members of the Afgescheidene Kerk (Doppers) sing only Psalms, never Hymns.]
[Footnote 52: This was Mrs. Van der Berg--Lenie's mother.]
[Footnote 53: Lenie van der Berg.]
[Footnote 54: My brother packed a box of groceries for me, and my mother bought a fresh supply of invalid food.]
[Footnote 55: Merchant at Bloemfontein, to whom I had written for groceries.]
[Footnote 56: The two shops in Camp contained precious little, and no foodstuffs.]
[Footnote 57: Mr. Van As and Mr. Fourie were the contractors.]
[Footnote 58: How well I remember this incident; how we hopefully approached the Superintendent's tent; how he gave two little boxes; and how he said, "That's the way you spoil them," as I myself unpacked the bottle straw for the old man. (The bottle straw had to be saved for his horse's bedding.)]
[Footnote 59: I got permission first.]
[Footnote 60: Literally from Dutch "spit afbijten"--bear the brunt.]
CHAP. III.
Tuesday, October 1.--Village whole morning; barber (at last); came back wiser and sadder man; can safely stow away comb and brush for a month; two packets of candles by piece of luck. Grand dinner; roast mutton, rice, mealies, and canned quinces. May I never forget that dish of gravy!
Found goods from Champion had arrived; life again; pickles, jam, "domel simmel" (golden syrup), cheese, and few pounds butter.
Supper sumptuous; good spirits.
Went through hospital wards.
Young Joubert (20) dying; visited him twice; quite ready; waiting to be taken; found mother at bedside.
Old Mr. Plessis pleurisy; great agony; restless; fretful; fearful; fear the worst; wonder if prepared to die?
Straight to convalescent tent; reproaches; "Ach, minheer, het min dan ver ons vergeet?" (O, sir, have you then forgotten us?); Psalm 103.
Mrs. V.d.W. very, very bad; greatly comforted; beseeched me to come again.
In old ward also; some very sick; Mrs. Griesel, Mrs. De W., Mrs. Steyn, Engelbrecht--all very low.
Feel more and more to neglect hospital would be criminal.
Then still two other women's wards, where had to read and pray and speak word all round; and finally the children's ward; girlie very bad.
After rounds (seven wards) felt like king; happy; weary, yet withal happy.
And our camp? Total neglect. But will I ever here roll me snugly in my blankets with the satisfaction that all the sick and suffering have been visited?
There have died up to September in our camp over 500. Appalling!
Only one buried this afternoon (Mr. Becker); died in hospital.
* * * * *
Thursday, October 3.--No diary yesterday; listless to-day also; hot; oppressive days; one just longs for day to end. Towards evening (sunset) usually nice and cool, and wind goes down.
What shall I write about? Diary becoming monotonous; too great a sameness. Hospitals; visits; sick; dying; funerals; morose topic; oppressive.
Boer khaki in camp to-day. Result of visit, about a dozen have joined forces of the English. Wonder if a worm wouldn't have more self-respect! Such characters make themselves despicable and contemptible in eyes of the English themselves. To us it brings deep-down humiliation. Can a man sink so low? Enough.
Two night ago some women and children cleared off--"for," said they, "lest we starve here."
Can a man (let alone a woman--breathe not of a child) remain healthy and strong on bread, meat (miserable half-pound), coffee, and condensed milk? And so, when a sickness comes there is nothing to fall back upon--no resistance. And with a wasted constitution who can battle against fever, pneumonia, and other things?
And for those that grimly struggle through, there is nothing wherewith to nourish and strengthen; no real milk; no eggs; wine; no delicacies such as convalescents should be tempted with. About as saddening sight as one can dream of is a peep into the children's ward--poor wasted, withered little innocents!
Mr. Otto buried eight this afternoon.
* * * * *
Friday, October 4.--Let me have a clean blank page for to-night in honour of my new home! Here I sit in glorious solitude, actually in a room! Four walls, four naked walls, but walls withal--stare down upon me with their muddy countenances, and I have an idea that they smile upon me in affection--four muddy brown smiles!
And so my ideal has been realised; and I am proud possessor of a house. Really word "house"[61] seems too inadequate, too insignificant wherewith to name it.
(Later)--Short joy; rudely awakened to sorrows of life; mother just gone by weeping bitterly; went out and took her home to her tent; daughter dying in hospital; Ferreira (admitted yesterday, fever). This morning still conscious when I spoke to her, and when we read and prayed together. And now?
Have just returned hospital; father there; girl evidently dying; fever 105; quite unconscious; strong, strapping girl of nineteen; knelt by bed and prayed; nothing impossible with God; while there is life there is hope.
Will postpone description of house till another occasion; under this cloud one's ink gets cloggy and one's pen listless.
Spent morning in hospital, and after--little visiting.
Funerals, five children; "Laat de kinderen" (Suffer the little children). Mother fainted at grave; great consternation.
Large laager troops close by.
* * * * *
Sunday, October 6.--No diary yesterday; spent morning at river[62]; hour's walk; small party, seven; persuaded Mr. Fourie to join; wife betterish.
Forgot for the while there was such a thing as a camp, and in the beauties, rugged and rude, of Nature able to enjoy life once more and banish thoughts of sickness, hospitals, deaths, funerals, etc. The grand old river!
Returned early with Mr. F. and did few hours' visiting.
To-day most busy and tiring day, as all Sundays are.
Service at ten and again at three.
Funerals at 5 p.m., four; after, prayer meeting.
Luckily (!) weather threatening, so announced there would be no meeting to-night; thankful in my soul.
And now the gentle drops making music on my roof; really it is too grand; one feels like living again to be in room where you can stand upright all over.
Miss Ferreira died last night; buried this afternoon; "Zalig zijn de dooden die in den Heere sterven" (Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord); large crowd at cemetery.
But to think that so young and so strong a person should so suddenly be called away; "Levende gaan zij de eeuwigheid binnen" (literally, Living they enter eternity).
Miss Van Tonder very, very low in hospital; cannot bear thought of her perhaps dying; it will be too, too sad; so young, so good, so patient. God only knows!
Yesterday eight buried; mostly children.
Let me rather fill pipe; get into bed, and listen to soothing rain without.
* * * * *
Tuesday, October 8.--Getting lazy with diary; effects of comforts of house, no doubt. Just copied Dr. M.'s list of patients; total 150; mostly in new camp; wonder how on earth am to find time to visit these tents; and this is but one of the three doctors' lists! So one's time is just made up with visits to sick, and for other work there is no opportunity. One gets "daarom" (literally, therefore) a bit hopeless with the amount of work. O for a few more to help!
Hospital runs away with whole morning; and positively cannot neglect that work, and then come the funerals every other day.
Buried four children this afternoon; one girlie I often visited; "En zij brachten kinderkens tot Jezus" (And they brought children to Jesus).
One cannot help smiling sometimes in midst of death; the comic element will crop up everywhere and the sublime verges on the ridiculous. Old Mrs. Griesel, delirious, "Ach, minheer, en moet ik nou sterve en dit zonder eers een glas karren melk to kry?" (O, sir, and must I die now, and that without one glass of buttermilk?); wonder, wonder how many will get well in that fatal ward. Give Miss Van Tonder up, also Mrs. Steyn and Mrs. Griesel--but!
Four children struggling with Death just now; among these a tiny little girl three years--the dearest, sweetest, little cherub imaginable. It knocks one over completely to see mother kneeling silently by bedside. There is pathetic element in the utter helplessness of human love. How hard to witness suffering with a breaking heart and to be--helpless!