BLOEMFONTEIN
Drawing by Donald E. M’Cracken

It will be necessary now to examine more in detail the special characteristics of the several regions of South Africa and their relative fitness for receiving patients and visitors. Besides the question of climate many other factors must be considered, such as the accommodation for invalids, the possibility of obtaining comfort and suitable food, and the social conditions which form, from a psychological standpoint, an important element in the treatment. To take the last point first, I would earnestly deprecate the focal accumulation of a large number of invalids, especially of tubercular invalids, in one centre; not so much because of the infectivity of such an accumulation, but because of the deplorable mental depression which results from the constant contemplation of other sufferers from this disease. Any one who has had experience of large hospitals or sanatoria for phthisis must have been struck with the undesirability, from this point of view, of the aggregation of patients. Mind and body are so inextricably mingled that the intelligent physician will attach not less importance to factors concerning the first than to those affecting the second. Let the sick man, therefore, avoid his sick fellows, when this is possible, and mix by preference with the healthy and robust. Health, like ill-health, is contagious. But when the patient’s forces are too far shattered to allow of this, sanatoria become necessary. I contend still that these should be small and disseminated, rather than central and on a colossal scale. This subject will be discussed in greater detail later.

Accommodation and the obtaining of creature comforts for invalids are, of course, more practicable in the towns than in the sparsely-populated country districts, but, unhappily, the towns are mostly confined to the coast-belt, which is not the healthiest part of South Africa. The variations of climate within this coast-belt are great, and are influenced, as has been said, by the prevalence of winds and rains, and sea-currents. The eastern and south-eastern parts of the seaboard have heavy summer rains; the southern and south-western parts have in the first a rainfall somewhat evenly distributed through the year, with winter rains as one approaches the west. The imaginary approximate line between the summer and winter rains would divide the southern coast in the longitude of Grahamstown. West of this line the rainfall may be said to vary between ten and twenty-five inches; east of this line it is uniformly above the latter figure. The mean humidity of the coast-line is about 75 per cent. It may be said at once that for this reason none of the coast districts, as regards climate, is an advantageous resort for all-the-year-round residence for phthisical patients, but that the seaboard having winter rains is ipso facto less suitable than that in which the rainfall is chiefly in the summer months. It is unfortunate that hitherto many circumstances have conspired to make the English visitor in search of health reluctant to live out of the towns, though these are often by no means the most suitable places for him. Political dissension between the two great occupying races has been the bane of South Africa and especially of the Cape Colony. It has come about that the progressive English have settled in the towns, while the unprogressive Dutch have kept tenaciously to the country. As a corollary from this, it is still the reproach of South Africa that, outside of a few towns, it is impossible to obtain good accommodation for the traveller, and still less for the invalid. It is earnestly to be hoped that the wider knowledge of the country, consequent upon the attention which has been concentrated upon it during the war, will lead to a large immigration of settlers who, eschewing the goldfields, will be content with the securer, if less considerable, competence to be obtained from agriculture, and will thus develop the country. It was a very wise and far-seeing plan of the late Mr. Rhodes to settle energetic English farmers in the midst of a stagnant Dutch district, and it is desirable in every way to break up the hard-and-fast racial division which has made so permanent an impress on the land. But this must be a matter of time, and for many years it must remain true that in the precious search for health the English invalid must be content to live in the midst of an alien majority, sometimes bitterly antipathetic to all things English. An even more important reason for keeping to the towns is that owing to the devastation of cattle caused by rinderpest and red-water, food, especially fresh meat, milk, and butter, has become dear and difficult to procure. To sum up, it may therefore be said that to the seriously ill, who are incapable of roughing it in any sense, the coast lands, though as regards climate not so satisfactory as the upper plateaux, are the only possible resource; but the sick man who is not yet so sick as to be laid up, is urged to quit the coast as soon as possible, and to take up his abode in the higher plains.

HEALTH RESORTS IN THE COAST-BELT

Cape Town, the capital of the Cape Colony, is the usual terminus of the voyage from England. It lies at the foot of Table Mountain, on the shores of Table Bay. Though an ugly town, it has natural surroundings of great beauty, and its suburbs are picturesque in the extreme. It has an excellent water-supply derived from Table Mountain, but its drainage is bad and the death-rate excessively high for a position of such natural advantage. Living is dear and at the present time exorbitant, owing to the large influx of persons wishing to go up to the goldfields, and unable to proceed on their way by reason of the congestion of the railway and the impossibility of finding house-room at their ultimate destination. The hotels are for the most part expensive, and leave much to be desired as regards cleanliness and comfort to the traveller fresh from Europe. There are numerous boarding-houses which are often comfortable and well managed, and in which the charges are about £12 per month for each person. The city itself, however, is not a pleasant place to live in, and most of the business community have houses in the suburbs, retaining only offices and shops in the town. The pleasantest residential district within the metropolis itself is the part called “the Gardens,” at the top of Government Avenue, a fine shady walk not open to wheeled traffic, with a double row of oak trees on each side, some of them planted by Governor Van der Stell, between 1679 and 1699. The magnificent Parliament buildings, Government House (the residence of the High Commissioner), many of the Government offices, the Public Library and Museum, the South African College, are all in close proximity to this part of the town. The library contains the most notable collection of books to be found in any of our colonies, including, as it does, the great Grey collection and the Dessinian bequest. It is particularly rich in literature dealing with South African history.

There is a large native quarter where the Malays congregate. It is overcrowded and insanitary to a degree, and contributes conspicuously to the high death-rate.

The residential suburbs, which are very healthy, stretch east and west of the town, and are connected with it by rail and electric car. The former are the more fashionable, and have become familiar to English readers during the past three years. Rondebosch, in which is Mr. Rhodes’s house, Groot Schuur (bequeathed to the High Commissioner), is five miles out. Claremont, a couple of miles eastward, has a large and excellent sanatorium which was of great value to the military. Wynberg, a mile further east, has a military hospital, and is a particularly healthy and pleasant district. It has an excellent independent water-supply. The Government wine-farm, Constantia, which gives the name to the well-known Cape liqueur, is situated in the neighbourhood. The suburban railway is continued to the east, passing by Muizenberg and Kalk Bay, favourite seaside resorts for holiday-makers, and terminating at Simonstown, the headquarters of the Cape and West Coast Imperial naval squadrons. To the west of the bay lie the suburbs of Green and Sea Point, separated from the town by a large expanse of flat open land adjoining the sea, and called “the Common,” upon which a large military camp was located during the war. The fresh Atlantic breezes blow directly across the Point, and this is one of the healthiest spots on the coast-belt. A magnificent new road, the Victoria Road, has been made along the sides of the precipitous slope forming the western edge of the Cape peninsula, as far as Houts Bay. From this there is an inland carriage-drive to Wynberg. The Victoria road a little resembles, but is far more magnificent than, the celebrated Corniche road in the French Riviera. The late Lord Carnarvon, when he visited South Africa in 1887, called this “the finest drive in the world.” January, February, and March are the hottest months of the year in Cape Town. The mean maximum temperature for these three months is 80°. June, July, and August are the coldest, with a mean maximum of 62°, and a mean minimum of 49°. Clothing as for the English summer and winter respectively is recommended, but it must be remembered that even in summer the nights are cool, a drop of over 20° between midday and evening temperatures being common. The mean humidity is 79.

Fruit in the Cape peninsula is plentiful and good—grapes, oranges, tangerines, peaches, apricots, nectarines, strawberries, plums, apples, quinces, melons, pears, pomegranates, grenadillas, loquats, figs, guavas, tomatoes, are all procurable in season. The flora of the Cape peninsula is one of the most interesting in the world. Over 10,000 varieties of heath have been described as occurring in this small area. Mr. Chamberlain should be interested in the Disa grandiflora, the celebrated orchid to be found only on the summit of Table Mountain.