TOPIC:

A response to a photograph of the Princess Christian Hospital Train suggested that a thread devoted to this subject was in order. Apologies if this has been dealt with elsewhere.



The invaluable "Report of the Central Red Cross Committee on Volunteer Organisations in Aid of the Sick and Wounded during the South African War" includes a chapter on the above train (pp. 32-34 & 134-144). It is interesting to note that the vast majority of the funding for the train came from the Royal Borough of Windsor and not from Princess Christian (£6,100 opposed to £650).



In long journeys over single lines of railway, with numerous stoppages and shuntings, such as trains conveying invalids must unavoidably be subjected to during military operations, independent self-supporting rolling hospitals are indispensable, and, on the initiative of H.R.H. Princess Christian, the Central British Red Cross Committee agreed to supplement the Army Medical Service in this direction.

After several unsuccessful attempts to purchase and adapt carriages which were already in course of construction, The Committee voted a sum of money for the building and equipping of a complete hospital train of seven bogie carriages.

On the 18th October, 1899, the Contract was signed by Sir John Furley on behalf of the Committee and by Mr W. J. Fieldhouse for the Military Equipment Company, Limited, who were bound to complete the train by the 13th January following.

Thanks to the Birmingham Railway Carriage and Wagon Company, Limited, and the hearty manner in which Mr Edward Fowler, the Managing Director, and his staff down to the humblest mechanic, threw themselves into the work in recognition of the purpose for which it was intended, this train was completed in 10 weeks, or more than two weeks within the period allowed by the contract.

Time being of the utmost importance, the fittings of the train had to be designed and executed whilst the wagons were being constructed, and throughout the whole of the work, Sir John Furley, who was responsible for the general design and internal arrangements, had the practical advice and energetic assistance of Mr Fieldhouse, and it is only due to this gentleman to acknowledge that without his aid the train could not have been so well and so rapidly completed.

The Borough of Windsor having contributed a sum of £6,100, to which Princess Christian added £650, the balance of a fund which had been invested in Her Royal Highness's name at the conclusion of the Soudan Campaign in 1885, and several other donations having been made for the same object, including one of £50 from Canada and £200 from the Worcester Committee, it was only natural that the wish expressed by the Royal Borough that these sums should be spent on a train to be called "The Princess Christian Hospital Train" should be carried out, more especially as Her Royal Highness had so thoroughly identified herself with hospital work in general, and was then taking so keen an interest in this new scheme for the comfort of the sick and wounded, an interest which never slackened throughout the whole duration of the war.

On the 16th December, 1899, Princess Christian, accompanied by a private party, travelled to Birmingham and spent an hour and a half in a minute inspection of the train and specimens of the stores, which included gifts from H.M. Queen Victoria, the Princess herself, and all the members of her family.

The train consists of seven bogie "corridor" carriages, each about 36 feet in length and 8 feet in width, the passage through the centre being continuous.

No. 1 is divided into three compartments for linen and other stores, for two nurses and for two invalid officers respectively. The second carriage is also divided into three compartments, namely, for two medical officers, a dining room and a dispensary. Nos. 3, 4, 5 and 6 are each constructed to carry 18 invalids and four hospital orderlies. It is here that the greatest difficulty was experienced, owing to the line being of narrow gauge and the space being consequently so very limited. The beds have been necessarily placed in three tiers, and any person accustomed to the lifting and moving of invalids can understand how difficult it is to place a helpless patient sideways on a bed closed on all sides but one, from a gangway 2 feet 6 inches in width, in which there is only room for one bearer at the head of the stretcher and one at the foot.



This difficulty has been overcome by an arrangement of pulleys in the roof which enable each bed with a patient on it to be raised to the proper level by one man, whilst the hands of the two bearers are thus left free to guide and fix it in position. Each carriage is provided with a stove, a lavatory and a closet. No. 7 contains the kitchen and pantry, including berths for two cooks and a compartment between for the guard.

There are perfect hygienic appliances for cooking, several large cisterns for cold water storage, two large filters, two refrigerators (one at each end of the train), and in fact everything necessary for 97 persons, even if they have to live on the train for two or three weeks. Every square inch has been utilised, and besides the fitted cupboards and drawers for linen, clothing, surgical and medical stores, cutlery, glass, crockery, provisions, &c., there are two lockers in the roof of each carriage for linen, &c. The whole train is light and airy, and the enamelled white ironwork and fittings and the bright draperies produce a very cheerful effect. To permit the train to be loaded with its human freight in places remote from buildings and exposed to sun, rain and dust, an awning is provided, suspended to hooks over the carriage doors and supported by telescopic iron posts. Under this shelter invalids can be transferred from stretchers to their beds in the train.

In the centre panel on each side of every carriage is a conspicuous Red Cross on a white ground, encircled with the words "Princess Christian Hospital Train" in royal blue and gold. In sockets at the head of the train are two flags, the Union Jack and the Red Cross, in accordance with Article VII of the Convention of Geneva.

On the 6th January, 1900, Sir John Furley left England for Cape Town, in order to comply with the request of the Central Committee that he would act as Special Commissioner in connection with this train.

The authorities at home had intended that the train should be put together and started from Cape Town, but on its arrival early in February, Lord Roberts decided that it should be sent on to Durban, as it had been already promised to General Sir Redvers Buller. The change caused some delay, but this was minimised as much as possible by the energetic assistance given by Mr (Sir David) Hunter, the General Manager of the Natal Railways, who, with the whole of his staff, rendered the most active co-operation. A trial trip to Pinetown took place on 17th March, and on the night of the 18th the train commenced the work for which it was intended by a journey to Ladysmith. Colonel Forrester, Royal Horse Guards, was in medical charge of the train, assisted by Mr Percy Lowe, F.R.C.S., and the staff was completed by Sisters Creighton and Jones of the Army Nursing Service Reserve; orderlies, of whom several were members of the St. John Ambulance Brigade, and a cook. Sir John Furley also travelled in the train, and General Clery and his A.D.C. and Sir William Stokes were taken as passengers from Mooi River. One incident connected with this journey was of an especially interesting character. Mr David Hunter had promised that the "Princess Christian" train should inaugurate the trestle bridge which had been temporarily placed over the Tugela at Colenso. On arriving at the bridge, it was found that half an hour would be required to complete it, and, as soon as the last bolt had been driven in, the train ran on into Ladysmith, being the first to arrive since the siege. On the following morning 10 invalid officers were placed in the train at Ladysmith and 52 non-commissioned officers and men were removed from the camp at Intombi, and the train immediately left for Durban, where, after 19 hours' travelling, all were taken on board the "German" which soon afterwards left for England.

A summary of the work done by the "Princess Christian" train is given in Appendix No. VI..

It may be added that the train was put into dock for repairs on two or three occasions, and for purposes of identification and in order that there might be no excuse for firing on it, it was painted white, externally, from end to end, in the month of September, 1900.

In the month of June, 1901, the train was formally presented by the Central Red Cross Committee to the Secretary of State for War on the understanding that it should retain the name of the "Princess Christian Hospital Train," and remain as a complete hospital train unit for the use of the Military Forces in South Africa.

















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Durban,
October 23rd, 1900.

We left Pretoria in the· "Princess Christian" Hospital Train about 9.30 a.m. on Wednesday October 10th, rather a later hour than the usual time of starting, as the train had only come in late the night before and fresh stores had to be taken on board. We made our first halt at No. 2 General Hospital about a mile outside the town and picked up two young civil surgeons who had orders to proceed by the train to Machadodorp. Getting off again we ran on slowly all day with frequent stoppages from crossing trains and at dusk had only reached Pan beyond Middelburg. All the Boer rolling stock accumulated on the Portuguese frontier was being sent up to Pretoria as fast as engines could be found to drag it, and consequently we were pulled up at frequent intervals all the way down the line in order to let trains pass.

After passing out of the cup-like depression of Pretoria which is surrounded by high hills, the rail way runs across an undulating plain interspersed with low kopjes. The veldt was green and pleasant to see. Here and there were scattered mimosas and patches of lobelias, masses of lavender blue, caught the eye. We passed Bronckhorst Spruit, the scene of the Boer ambush so disastrous to the 94th Regiment in 1881, and the Rhenoster and Olifant Rivers.

At Middelburg and Pan everyone was full of the accident to the Coldstream Guards. The train was derailed and the Boers from their cover fired on the engine and soldiers as they scrambled from the trucks, killing five and wounding 13. There were Boer prisoners on the train, but not a shot was fired at the trucks which contained them. We stayed at Pan for the night and did not go on our way until some time after daybreak next morning. At Belfast, a very windy place on an open plain, with a few houses and trees in a hollow about a mile from the station, we made another long halt of which I took advantage to have a long talk with the Medical Officer of the little hospital. He had no patients.

Here another train caught us up. It was carrying Brigadier-General Barker, G.O.C. of the line of communications from Pretoria to Komati Poort. The General came on board and called on us. After Belfast the line begins to descend and the country becomes more broken and hilly.

At Machadodorp we dropped our two surgeons, and Lowe had an interview with the S.M.O. and heard that there was a convoy of sick coming in from Lydenburg whom we were to pick up on our return. French's cavalry were mostly at Machadodorp so that there was a big camp there, lines of tents and horses everywhere, and orderlies riding about in all directions.

In the afternoon we reached Waterval Boven which from the distance, with its low houses and red roofs lying in a nook of the hills, is not unlike a Swiss village. Here begins an abrupt descent, going down through a deep cutting and tunnel several hundred feet to Waterval Onder in the rocky valley of the Crocodile River. Cog engines are used for this part of the line, the gradient in places being as much as 1 in 20. At Waterval Onder there is a nice little hospital in charge of Lieutenant Wingate, R.A.M.C., who appeared to be very popular with his patients. There were two or three Boer prisoners from Bergendal here, one of the injured from the railway accident at Kaap Muiden and several cases of fever dysentery. There were four Hollander nurses working in the hospital, capable enough nurses, but two of them so partisan and vindictive that they could not be trusted to look after the patients properly. Two men complained to me of these nurses. One was a Free Stater, the other an Englishman. A German officer named von Dalwig, badly wounded at Bergendal, gained their resentment by talking to the British officers who often came to see him, and was much neglected in consequence.

I was glad to hear that these ladies were to be replaced by English sisters. Two English sisters had already arrived. Lowe's orders were to return from Waterval Onder, but on the arrival of the train at that place he received an urgent message requesting him to go on to Kaap Muiden, the junction for Barberton, where there had been a bad railway accident at the temporary bridge over the Crocodile River. Five men were killed and 17 more or less badly injured. Forty horses and mules were killed, or so much injured that they had to be shot. A senior R.A.M.C. officer who had just arrived from the scene of the accident insisted on the importance of our proceeding there at once. Lowe was naturally most unwilling to take the responsibility of exceeding his orders, but finally decided to take the train on.

We went on down the valley next morning. The river gorge became deeper as we descended and the scenery more romantic. Enormous granite boulders lie scattered everywhere on the hillsides and in the riverbed. The valley was green with acacia, mimosa, wattle, and other bigger and more umbrageous trees which I did not know. Here and there were high cactuses, and the steep slopes were covered with aloes and scrub. Flowers were not yet very numerous, but bright scarlet honeysuckle, great crimson burrs, and a very handsome red star-like flower shone out amidst the green. Below, now breaking into sounding torrents, now stayed in pleasant pools, the Crocodile River, a fine mountain torrent, twists swiftly in and out amongst the rocks and boulders. We passed Nooitgedacht, a little station in a corner of the valley, apparently a pleasant spot enough, but no doubt unhealthy.

The heat grew more and more intense until at Crocodile Poort, where on either side the steep cliffs closely approach the river, the thermometers in all the wards all showed 105° F.

After another long wait we continued our journey, and towards evening ran down the deviation to the temporary bridge which crosses the river at Kaap Muiden. In spite of the recent accident our driver brought the train along at a reckless pace, which would have probably resulted in a catastrophe had he not been stopped by the signals of a sapper officer, who happened to be in charge of a working party on the spot.

The driver's object no doubt was to gain impetus enough to take the train up the steep ascent the other side of the river. In the event we were obliged to send for a second engine to haul us up into Kaap Muiden.

The sufferers from the accident proved to be in better case than we expected. The worst were Captain Hawkes of the 66th Battery R.F.A., who had his left leg broken, a compound fracture; another man, a soldier of the same battery, with a broken ankle; and two poor Kaffirs, one with a broken leg and the other a broken jaw. The rest of the cases were chiefly severe cuts and bruises. All were very much shaken and suffering a good deal from the shock. When we crossed the river again on our return journey several of the men stood by the doors ready to jump off.

The 66th Battery has seen a great deal of fighting and has suffered severely; it was one of Colonel Long's unfortunate batteries at Colenso, and it is very bad luck that at the end of the campaign the battery should meet with such an accident. Sergeant Nurse, V.C., was amongst the injured, but was not seriously hurt. Lieutenant Hord Hutchinson, the assistant R.S.O., said that the accident was a dreadful sight: trucks, men, and horses all heaped on each other in fearful confusion.

The patients were brought round and lifted into the train under Lowe's directions. We stayed the night in the station. It was still very hot, over 90°. The two sisters felt the heat very much and I believe hardly slept at all. Lowe and I had a fairly good night.

A bout 7 o'clock next morning, Saturday October 13th, we started on our homeward journey, taking an extra van for the two poor Kaffirs. At Alkmaar we took on two men who had been badly wounded in a skirmish whilst patrolling. One of them had his arm completely shattered by an expanding bullet. The arm had been amputated but the wound was so painful that it had to be dressed under an anaesthetic. The surgeon in charge came on to the train to help and the dressing was successfully done whilst the train was in motion.

We reached Waterval Onder in the midst of a tremendous thunderstorm, and here took on board 12 more invalids. The R.S.O. brought us the interesting news that there had been an engagement that morning at Geluk, near Dalmanutha, in which Mahon's column had several casualties, and that although it was already dusk we were to go on with all speed to Dalmanutha to take over the wounded. At Waterval Boven there was a further consultation between Lowe and the R.S.O. of that station. In the meantime under the mess room windows, for it was just after dinner, a small crowd of railway men on the platform was discussing our chances of being derailed or sniped at.

Our engine driver evidently thought that due caution consisted in making the best use possible of the early hours of evening, for he took us at a great pace through the darkness, lightning, and rain into Machadodorp. A short halt was made to get the orders of the G.O.C. L. of C. On we went again, and reached Dalmanutha about 11 o'clock at night.

It was very dark, but the rain had almost cleared off. A tired-out surgeon boarded the train with a lantern in his hand, and after a few words with Lowe, led the way to a large room at the back of the station. As we came up to the door a poor crumpled-up form was carried out on a stretcher. A man had just died of his wounds. We stood for a moment and looked in.

The Medical Officer's lantern dimly lit up the bare walls and bare floors, leaving dark shadows untouched by its rays, but gradually I made out that the room was packed with wounded, bandaged men. They lay close together, a few on stretchers, most on the floor, very quiet and patient.

Lowe did not waste any time. The beds were brought out from the train, and all except three or four slight cases were got on board at once.

Almost the whole night long Lowe and his staff were at work. After two or three hours' sleep they had to begin again, for with morning six more wounded were brought in by the ambulance wagons. Some of the cases were very serious, a poor young subaltern, a mere boy, shot through the back of the head and neck, another man wounded in the head, two men with abdominal wounds, one shot through the lungs, one wounded in the chest, another shot through the knee. In one case Lowe operated successfully, and extracted the bullet.

We took up one more case after leaving Dalmanutha, making our numbers eight officers and 64 men, and then ran straight through, with only short stops at the stations, to No. 2 General Hospital outside Pretoria, again arriving at our destination in darkness.

Our 12 worst cases were transferred to the Langman Hospital the same night.

The Imperial Yeomanry and the Welsh Hospitals took the rest of the officers next morning, and the remaining cases were taken on by the train to Johannesburg.

I quitted the train at Pretoria in the morning, leaving Lowe and the two sisters in a very limp condition. Sister Creighton and Sister Jones had both worked splendidly.

Our journey had taken five days.

I must just add that in my opinion, owing to the nature of the railway and difficulties of traffic, no other Hospital train could at the present moment successfully work the Pretoria and Komati Poort line.



October 10th – Hardly had we arrived at Pretoria last night from our to journey to Barberton when we received orders to be ready for another journey eastward early this morning. This was short notice with a vengeance, as we had taken nine days over the trip to Barberton and back (the first train to get through since French took the place), and consequently were short of stores and rations, which had to be laid in before we could get away. Our orders were to proceed to Waterval Onder and bring away wounded and sick, picking up others we might find at various places on our way back. Bonham Carter, who was going to make the trip with us, joined the train betimes, and by eight o'clock we went steaming out of the station, and soon running down the incline through Sunnyside, the fashionable suburb of Pretoria. Two civilian surgeons (Crawford and Owen), who were under orders to proceed to Machadodorp, were awaiting our arrival at Howitzer Camp, a mile or so outside the town, and were soon on board with their kit. From here the train grunts and puffs up a stiffish incline, but having once gained the top, makes up for lost time, and is soon rattling away down the opposite slope; past East Fort on its barren isolated kopje; past Kaedoes Poort, where we have a chain of outposts guarding the eastern approaches to Pretoria; past a charming little homestead lying just through it, green and bright, with its willows, and peach trees in full blossom; past Silverton, silent and deserted, and so out once more to the open smiling veldt, gay with spring flowers, and fresh with a new-born greenness, almost intoxicating after the brown monotony of its winter garb. As the train runs by, we watch the “Kaffir chiefs”, or widow birds, proud of their new-formed summer tails, but apparently finding them an additional responsibility to their already somewhat heavy domestic cares as they clumsily flit from tuft to tuft, accompanied by their scandalously large following of more dowdy hen birds. Bird life, in fact, is everywhere in evidence, and a general awakening to building operations and domestic concerns. Flowers and flowering bulbs pass in an endless procession, yellow tulips flower, marguerite, ground orchid, and a hundred others, and here and there we rush past a patch of lobelia, large as an English lawn, and dazzlingly blue – a sapphire in a surrounding of emerald. Far away in the distance stretch a line of kopjes, like the poor, always with us, but softened down this morning in a decent covering of misty blue haze, and over all, the African sun, bathing the veldt in a flood of light and warmth, and calling everything to life and growth. One longs to stop the train, forget all about wars and sick and wounded, and wander off free, careless, and irresponsible on such a sea of flowers and beauty.

At Erste Fabricken our progress is delayed while we pick up some hospital equipment to be taken on to the front, and then once more we get under way, and quickly pass through Pienaar’s Pont with its craggy rocks, frowning cliffs, and trim fruit orchards ablaze with blossom. Through the Pont we get fairly into the enemy's country, abundantly evident from the numerous little isolated posts, entrenched and be-wired, which are dotted at frequent intervals along the length of the line. Lonely posts they must be, too, and Tommy Atkins must be hard put to it at times to know how to get through the long drawn-out days. Beyond his ordinary routine of sentry-go and duty, there is little left for him but to wash his clothes and beautify his stronghold with all sorts of strange and curious devices figured in white stones on the red earth of the trenches, a thing which Tommy is much given to. As we go by, he comes out to waive a "how d'ye do," or may be scramble for cigarettes, matches, cake tobacco, magazines, or what not, thrown from the windows by the Sisters, who are ever on the look out for this good Samaritan-like task. No one but those who have seen it can realise the keen delight with which Tommy grabs up "a bit of some'at to read," far away from civilization, and mile upon mile from the luxury of daily literature.

We reached Pan, a mere dot in the veldt, between Middleburg and Belfast, at dusk, and there we remained for the night.

October 11th. -- All day long we slowly crawl eastwards constantly delayed by the stream of rolling stock corning up from Komati Poort. By the afternoon we have reached Waterval Boven, and now the country changes. One seems to have come to the very edge of the high veldt and to be able to look down upon a country of many hills and innumerable valleys jumbled up together in perplexing confusion, and stretching away seawards for mile upon mile until it is lost in the blue shimmering haze which ever broods over this malarious death-trap.

From Waterval Boven to Waterval Onder is a short three miles. Between the two is a fall of roughly 1,000 feet. Waterval Boven is at the top and Waterval Onder at the bottom of a stairway leading from the healthy open uplands of the high veldt down to the low feverish valleys and swampy stretches which eventually lead to Komati Poort and Lorenco Marques. In order to get from one level to another, a veritable mountain railway has been called into requisition. This is provided with a cogged arrangement running down the centre of the permanent way similar to what one sees on the mountain railways of Switzerland. However, no cog-engine was available for us as the Boers have taken them down to Komati Poort, and so we reached Waterval Onder with the aid of two ordinary engines, one in front and one behind; steam brakes and hand-brakes were hard on, and at a snail's pace we crawled and backed down the steep inclines and round the corners hewn out of the solid rock high up on the face of the hills. Far below roared and chafed the Crocodile River, and we wondered if the brakes were absolutely reliable. Everyone took a long breath and felt considerably relieved when we at length got to the bottom.

On arriving at Onder, we hear that the train is urgently required at Kaap Muiden, where a serious railway accident has occurred, that is to say more serious than usual, for two or three happen every day just now on this line. My orders are to return from here and not proceed further, but the call for the train appears so pressing, that it seems reasonable to telegraph to Pretoria explaining the situation, and informing the powers that be that we are going on. I feel the more comforted in my resolution by having the advice of a senior officer of the R.A.M.C., who happens to be passing through on his way to Pretoria. Not being able to get any further today, we are to start early tomorrow morning.

October 12th. -- We got away early as arranged, and are soon winding and meandering down the valley. At every station we are delayed by troop, supply and construction trains, and our advance is not rendered any quicker by a more or less mutinous driver, who exercises his utmost ingenuity in inventing devices for wasting time and causing delays. As these drivers are for the most part mere amateurs and are working at high pressure for long spells, which would make the hair of an eight hours' a-day agitator turn grey, one feels a good deal of sympathy for them, but at the same time our business is to get to Kaap Muiden in the shortest possible time, so the good offices of a friendly R.S.O. are called into service and the driver frightened into a more reasonable frame of mind. So effectual indeed are the blandishments of this railway magnate that the driver rushes from one extreme to the other, and on nearing Kaap Muiden proceeds to charge the temporary trestle bridge over the river at a pace which fairly makes our blood run cold. We are just looking out for soft falling places, when fortunately for everyone concerned, he is checked in this ingenious attempt at revenge by an engineer officer, who happens to be nearly run down by the driver, and who strongly objects both to this and to having his bridge inevitably wrecked. We are brought up sharp with a sudden crunching application of the brakes, on the very edge of the sharp descent down to the river bed, and listen with a good deal of satisfaction to the words which flow from the officer, words more forcible than polite. We then proceed to slowly cross the bridge. This is the scene of the accident which has been the cause of our extended journey. The bridge is of the wooden trestle description supported on a foundation of sandbags. It has what one would call a kink in the middle and the railway runs down to it on each side with appalling abruptness. Evidently the driver of the train which was wrecked was taught in the same school as ours. Unfortunately no officer was present to convince him of his folly in time, and the train after dashing down through the temporary approach bounded on to the bridge and went over at the kink into the river bed, being smashed to atoms as one would have expected. This train was carrying part of the ill-fated battery of Colenso fame, and besides three men, 40 horses were killed outright. . . The same evening we took on board our load of injured. As was natural, they were suffering from all sorts of injuries, from broken limbs down to cases of concussion. Among the number was Corporal Nurse who so gallantly won his V.C. at Colenso.



October 13th. -- It is small wonder that none of the injured relished the crossing of the bridge again this morning, but this feat was performed without incident, and we went on our way rejoicing, picking up 11 men suffering from malaria at Neils Spruit, and t wo severely wounded at Alkmaar. . . . By dusk we had arrived at Waterval Onder where we found two sick officers and eight men awaiting our arrival (two Boers among the number), also a telegram ordering us to proceed to Dalmanutha to pick up wounded from a fight which General Mahon had been engaged in that day close to the spot. By the time we reached Boven it was quite dark, and orders being most explicit as to trains travelling at night, it became a question whether we were to be allowed to proceed that night; Boers might be anywhere between us and our destination, and they had lately been most enterprising in blowing up trains and permanent way. On the other hand there were the wounded waiting and unprovided for, and one felt inclined to risk a good deal as far as orders were concerned. However, after a somewhat long discussion, during which the R.S.O. naturally did not care to take too much responsibility on his own shoulders, the train was eventually allowed to proceed, and soon after 10 o'clock we arrived at Dalmanutha.

Here we found the wounded lying on the floor of a building in the station. As we entered one man was being carried out – his fighting days were over and he was going to a soldier's grave on the open veldt. He had just died – shot through the neck – a small hand lamp was shedding its flickering and uncertain shadows over the bare and cold-looking walls, barely enough light by which to see what one was doing and merely making things more weird and creepy – a solemn silence only broken by the undertones of the stretcher-bearers as they carried their burden from a far corner of the room, and found it difficult to avoid treading on or stumbling over the dark forms lying thickly spread over the floor, seemed in strange sympathy with what was going on in the room and the still moonlit veldt outside, now and then a groan would come from one of the dark forms wrapped in a blanket or overcoat or a cry escape for water. As we stood for a moment and looked on while the Medical Officer in charge was quietly giving his directions one could not help wishing that the folk at home could see this other side to the picture of war – grim and real and shorn of all pomp and gay circumstance.

For Tommy Atkins never shows up better than in circumstances such as these. There he lay on the bare floor – tired out, hungry and cold , with clothes soaked and stiffened with blood that had oozed from wounds bound round roughly with puttees or whatever came to hand, and all that night, as soon as he could be moved, the sisters and the staff of the train worked, and, taking each in turn, strove to wash off the stains and dirt of the battlefield and get his wounds into something like a satisfactory state of surgical cleanliness – yet never a murmur, only patient waiting and a jest when his turn came, and some there were with a bullet through the abdomen and knew the peril of it, and some with shattered arms and legs, and some shot through the chest, and one without an eye and the bridge of his nose – one or two, indeed, there were who were not so patient, but these were delirious, hard to be kept in bed, and had bullets through their brains. It was a busy night and the cook was as busy as the rest with his hot soup and other equally welcome comforts.

October 14th. -- The next morning another batch of wounded arrived, among them Lieut. G____ of the Lancers, shot through the head. He was in sorry, almost hopeless, plight, but fortunately delirious, so that the constant dressing which his head wounds required could have given him no trouble. Directly after the arrival of this later batch we started off once more for Pretoria, and by this time the train was full to overflowing; yet there are few cases in which "just one more" cannot be squeezed in, and this process was gone through on six occasions before we reached No. 2 General Hospital at Pretoria.










"For purposes of identification and in order that there might be no excuse for firing on it, it was painted white, externally, from end to end, in the month of September, 1900".


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A fantastic set of posts, Neville. So much detail and excellent pictures.

Neville - thrice thank you!!!

Apparently not on the inventory: www.angloboerwar.com/forum/19-ephemera/2...al-train-feeding-cup

This link takes you to a downloadable 7 page article which appeared in the Lady's Realm magazine of 1902:

www.victorianvoices.net/ARTICLES/MISC/La...02-HospitalTrain.pdf

Please note that in the first illustration the carriages are standing in Smethwick. The Birmingham Carriage & Wagon Works Co Ltd factory where the carriages were built was located in Middlemore Road, Smethwick. They built a second set of Princess Christian Hospital carriages for use in the Great War along with aircraft and producing explosive shells. During WW2 they built tanks, tank transporters and the Hamilcar heavy transport glider. After WW2 they were the second biggest employer in Smethwick (Avery's were the largest) but sadly the factory closed in 1963.

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David,

Yes, I had noticed that the feeding cups do not appear on the inventory. I have seen a few of these over the years, but no examples of any of the pieces that are on the list. A theory I have is that the cups were donated by Thomas Goode & Co., despite not being on the committee's "wants" list, and were never taken out to South Africa. A similar situation to this occurred when Henry Potter & Co presented a set of eight side drums to the City Imperial Volunteers. The decision was made to take bugles only, so the drums were left behind, eventually finding a home with the scout movement.

Interestingly 36 "sick feeders" do appear on the inventory of the "Princess Christian" Hospital (Red Cross Committee Report, p. 155).




Invalid's cup, decorated with the Red Cross and the words "PRINCESS CHRISTIAN'S HOSPITAL TRAIN 1899". On the base: "PRESENTED BY T.GOODE & Co. LONDON. W.T.COPELAND & SONS STOKE-ON-TRENT ENGLAND".

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