With Methuens Column on an Ambulance Train

With Methuen's Column on an Ambulance Train

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Title: With Methuen's Column on an Ambulance Train
Author: Ernest N. Bennett
Release Date: April 1, 2005 [EBook #15520]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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The Author's share of the profits arising from the sale of this book will be given to Lady Lansdowne's Fund for the Widows and Families of Officers.

WITH METHUEN'S COLUMN ON AN AMBULANCE TRAIN
by
ERNEST N. BENNETT FELLOW OF HERTFORD COLLEGE, OXFORD
LONDON SWAN SONNENSCHEIN & CO., LIM. PATERNOSTER SQUARE 1900

PREFACE.
When I returned from South Africa I had no intention of adding to the war literature which was certain to be evoked by the present campaign. But I now publish this simple narrative because it was suggested to me by a friend that the sale of such a book might perhaps serve to augment in some measure the Fund established by the patriotism and energy of Lady Lansdowne and her Committee. Lady Lansdowne has cordially approved of the suggestion; so I trust that the profits derived from this little volume may be enough to justify its existence.
ERNEST N. BENNETT.

WITH METHUEN'S COLUMN ON AN AMBULANCE TRAIN.
The first view of Capetown from the sea is not easily forgotten. We sailed into the bay just as the sun was rising in splendour behind the cliffs of Table Mountain. The houses of the town which fill the space between the hills and the sea were still more or less in shadow, picked out here and there by twinkling lights. On the summit rested a fleecy cloud which concealed the pointed crags and hung from the edges of the precipice like a border of fine drapery. On the right, groups of buildings stretched onwards to Sea Point, where the surf was breaking on the rocks within a few feet of the road; on the left were the more picturesque suburbs of Rosebank, Newlands and Claremont nestling amid their woods and orchards; and still further on lay Wynberg, with its vast hospital, already become a household word in English homes. The dreary flats of Simon's Bay, where British war-ships lay at anchor, shut in the view.
Pleasing as the picture is when seen from the deck of a Castle Liner, disappointment generally overtakes the voyager who has landed. Capetown itself has little to boast of in the way of architecture. Except Adderley Street, which is adorned by the massive buildings of the Post Office and Standard Bank, the thoroughfares of the town offer scarcely any attractions. The Dutch are not an artistic race, and the fact that natives here live not in "locations" but anywhere they choose has covered some portions of the town's area with ugly and squalid houses. Nor, as a matter of fact, does the general tone of thought and feeling in Cape Colony naturally lend itself to aesthetic considerations. Even the churches fail to escape the influence of a spirit which subordinates everything else to practical and utilitarian considerations. Can two uglier buildings of their kind be found in the civilised world than the English and Dutch cathedrals at Capetown?
Another unpleasant feature of life in Capetown is the misfortune, not the fault, of the inhabitants in being frequently exposed to the full fury of the south-east wind. Sometimes for whole days together the Cape is swept by tremendous blasts, which tear up the sea into white foam and raise clouds of blinding dust along the streets of the town.
Nevertheless the kindness and generosity of the people are not in any way lessened by these unpleasant features in their surroundings. The warmth of colonial hospitality is acknowledged by all travellers, and may be partly due to that love of the mother country which survives in the hearts of Englishmen who have never left South Africa, and yet recognise in the visitor a kind of tie, as it were, between themselves and old England. Such hospitality blesses him that gives as well as him that takes, and the host listens with deepest interest to his guest's chatter about London, or perhaps the country town or village where he or his forefathers lived in days gone by. Any one who is accustomed in England to the conventional "Saturday to Monday" or the "shooting week" in a country house opens his eyes with wonder when he receives a warm invitation from a colonial to spend a month with him at his house on