I Am Puzzled What To Think Of The Climate Here For Invalids.
The
air is dry and clear beyond conception, and light, but the sun is
scorching; while the south-east wind blows an icy hurricane, and
the dust obscures the sky.
These winds last all the summer, till
February or March. I am told when they don't blow it is heavenly,
though still cold in the mornings and evenings. No one must be out
at, or after sunset, the chill is so sudden. Many of the people
here declare that it is death to weak lungs, and send their
poitrinaires to Madeira, or the south of France. They also swear
the climate is enervating, but their looks, and above all the
blowsy cheeks and hearty play of the English children, disprove
that; and those who come here consumptive get well in spite of the
doctors, who won't allow it possible. I believe it is a climate
which requires great care from invalids, but that, with care, it is
good, because it is bracing as well as warm and dry. It is not
nearly so warm as I expected; the southern icebergs are at no great
distance, and they ice the south-east wind for us. If it were not
so violent, it would be delicious; and there are no unhealthy
winds - nothing like our east wind. The people here grumble at the
north-wester, which sometimes brings rain, and call it damp, which,
as they don't know what damp is, is excusable; it feels like a DRY
south-wester in England. It is, however, quite a delusion to think
of living out of doors, here; the south-easters keep one in nearly,
if not quite, half one's time, and in summer they say the sun is
too hot to be out except morning and evening. But I doubt that,
for they make an outcry about heat as soon as it is not cold. The
transitions are so sudden, that, with the thermometer at 76
degrees, you must not go out without taking a thick warm cloak; you
may walk into a south-easter round the first spur of the mountain,
and be cut in two. In short, the air is cold and bracing, and the
sun blazing hot; those whom that suits, will do well. I should
like a softer air, but I may be wrong; when there is only a
moderate wind, it is delicious. You walk in the hot sun, which
makes you perspire a very little; but you dry as you go, the air is
so dry; and you come in untired. I speak of slow walking. There
are no hot-climate diseases; no dysentery, fever, &c.
Simon's Bay, 18th Nov. - I came on here in a cart, as I felt ill
from the return of the cold weather. While at Rathfelder we had a
superb day, and the J-s drove me over to Constantia, which deserves
all its reputation for beauty. What a divine spot! - such kloofs,
with silver rills running down them! It is useless to describe
scenery. It was a sort of glorified Scotland, with sunshine,
flowers, and orange-groves. We got home hungry and tired, but in
great spirits. Alas! next day came the south-easter - blacker,
colder, more cutting, than ever - and lasted a week.
The Walkers came over on horseback, and pressed me to go to them.
They are most kind and agreeable people. The drive to Simon's Bay
was lovely, along the coast and across five beaches of snow-white
sand, which look like winter landscapes; and the mountains and bay
are lovely.
Living is very dear, and washing, travelling, chemist's bills - all
enormous. Thirty shillings a cart and horse from Rathfelder here -
twelve miles; and then the young English host wanted me to hire
another cart for one box and one bath! But I would not, and my
obstinacy was stoutest. If I want cart or waggon again, I'll deal
with a Malay, only the fellows drive with forty Jehu-power up and
down the mountains.
A Madagascar woman offered to give me her orphan grandchild, a
sweet brown fairy, six years old, with long silky black hair, and
gorgeous eyes. The child hung about me incessantly all the time I
was at Rathfelder, and I had a great mind to her. She used to
laugh like baby, and was like her altogether, only prettier, and
very brown; and when I told her she was like my own little child,
she danced about, and laughed like mad at the idea that she could
look like 'pretty white Missy'. She was mighty proud of her
needlework and A B C performances.
It is such a luxury to sleep on a real mattrass - not stuffed with
dirty straw; to eat clean food, and live in a nice room. But my
cough is very bad, and the cruel wind blows on and on. I saw the
doctor of the Naval Hospital here to-day. If I don't mend, I will
try his advice, and go northward for warmth. If you can find an
old Mulready envelope, send it here to Miss Walker, who collects
stamps and has not got it, and write and thank dear good Lady
Walker for her kindness to me.
You will get this about the new year. God bless you all, and send
us better days in 1862.
LETTER IV - JOURNEY TO CALEDON
Caledon, Dec. 10th.
I did not feel at all well at Simon's Bay, which is a land of
hurricanes. We had a 'south-easter' for fourteen days, without an
hour's lull; even the flag-ship had no communication with the shore
for eight days. The good old naval surgeon there ordered me to
start off for this high 'up-country' district, and arranged my
departure for the first POSSIBLE day. He made a bargain for me
with a Dutchman, for a light Malay cart (a capital vehicle with two
wheels) and four horses, for 30s. a day - three days to Caledon from
Simon's Bay, about a hundred miles or so, and one day of back fare
to his home in Capetown.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 10 of 38
Words from 9085 to 10112
of 37925
