1 Wednesday night
2 May 8th.
3
4 My own sister!
5
6 Its near morning, my poor charge has just fallen in to a quiet sleep &
7I am sitting in the next room waiting for the arrival of the Dr. who
8promised to call in about this time, to day was the 21st day of the
9fever, & as she has past it safely we hope all may now go well. She is
10still very ill but better than she was last night when we all thought
11her to be dying but I feel very hopeful tonight & look forward to
12seeing her well in a few weeks time.
13
14 I’ve not been in or even on bed for the last 3 weeks, what sleep I
15have had I have taken in an armchair at her bed side so you may fancy
16how weak I feel, if I can only keep up till she is out of danger I
17don’t care how I break down then, Papa will have told you how many
18persons in Dordrecht have this fever & the best of it is our ?bright
19Drs ?Jules & ?Bird don’t know what to make of it or what to call it. A
20happy thought struck Jules the other day that Mr Gau’s well was
21poisoned & was the cause of all the evil, great nonsense I think but
22we’ve sent some of the water down to unreadable from to be analysed &
23shall hear the result by tomorrows post.
24
25 Friday morn. Miss Gau is worse again. Mr Gau has just sent out into
26the country to try & get a Dutch girl to come in & stay with me as we
27can get no one in town for love or money.
28
29 I am expecting the down country post to arrive every moment but after
30the letter that post brought me I seem to dread rather than look
31forward to its coming What I tell you now dear old girl is for your
32self & no one else don’t say a word to Papa about it what ever you do,
33but I got such a cold little note from Mamma last week in answer to my
34letter telling her that I was
35
36[page/s missing]
37
38
39

1 My own sister!
2
3 I am sitting in my little room at Hertzog, at home at last. I arrived
4here yes the day before yesterday with Mr Gau. I left Dordrecht on
5Sunday (that is Sunday week) & stayed with Miss Gau at Willow ?Hark
6till Wednesday afternoon when I started for L. S. with Mr Gau. Wild
7rain & snow, it grew so bad that we were obliged to spend the night at
8?Asenberg’s hotel & only got to Queens Town the next after noon. I
9stayed at Stubbs & had a delightful little cottage all to my self at
10the bottom of the garden I did not have my photo taken as the
11photographer had gone to the Bay We left Queens Town on Saturday & got
12here about three on Sunday afternoon Papa & Mama were not in & we had
13to wait some time before they could be called Mr Gau left at once as
14he wished to reach Beaufort the same night I was so glad to see dear
15Mamma & found her looking very well & also found the little cottage
16much more snug than I expected.
17
18 Mamma seemed glad to see me but I would be infinitely more happy if I
19could have some thing to do. It’s no use wishing for that however I
20must make up my mind to stay quietly with Mamma for some months as Mr
21Gau to whom I am engaged could never bear the idea that his wife had
22had to work for her living. I’ve never told you of my engagement
23Darling as there are circumstances which make it most desirable that
24no one should know any thing of it just now, still I know I can trust
25my old sis not to say one word about it to any one except Theo. & if
26you are quite sure he will will not mention it, to dear old Will also;
27had it not been for this reason (my engagement) I would have been so
28glad to have gone to Mrs ?Mills but that is all past & gone now.
29
30 I’ve been engaged not quite two months I can’t say as yet when we
31shall be married as we both feel in a very delicate position with
32regard to Miss Gau, who will think as soon as we speak of getting
33married take it as a hint that she must leave for Germany I dare say
34however we shall be married before the end of the summer as she will
35wish to get home in time for the European summer Mr Gau will have his
36photo take in the Bay & when he returns I will send you one.
37
38[break in the letter]
39
40 You say that you have never received any letters from me for some time
41– how that is I can’t make out as I have written again & again to you.
42Has Alex ever got the letter I sent him?
43
44 I have been so much interested at the account Papa has been giving me
45of your life at the Fields; you know his funny way of telling things,
46I quite seem to know Mr Howard &c &c. do tell me all about your selves
47when you write dear Ett.
48
49 I must close now darling write soon & ask Theo & Will to write to your
50old sister Olive
51
52 Mamma sends love – Happy happy returns of your birthday Darling
53
54
55

1 My dear old Sis
2
3 It is Sunday morning & all the folks have gone to church except Katie
4& Georgie so I shall have a nice quiet time for writing.
5
6 I was not a little disappointed at not receiving a line from you by
7last post, but knew you & the old Baas were both well as your hand
8writings were on the box of fruit; for which so many thanks. It made
9me more glad to think you had remembered how I like them than it would
10have been if I had got the finest presents in the world. They seem
11almost too pretty to eat.
12
13 I am feeling so well & am at work from morning till night, but you
14know in your own house how light all work seems, & I feel just as if
15house children & all were my own. I don’t know which of the children
16I’m fondest of but I don’t like Katie quite as well as the boys
17though even she is a dear good child.
18
19 Mrs Weekly expects to be ill in about five weeks time. I suppose you
20know Mrs ?Bayswood has a little one at last.
21
22 The other day when I was down at the shop I met ?Lendorf who was on
23his way down to Grahams Town where he thinks of settling he will be
24back again in two months time when he has promised to call. By the way
25before I forget it, if you or the Miss Howards ?or Miss Davey should
26want any thing I could get it for you here as Mrs Weakley says there
27are shops here where you could buy things quite as cheaply as in
28Grahams Town. How is the old Baas finding? How is Howard getting on?
29Do you still think of the Gold Fields.
30
31 Remember me to dear old John & tell him he must soon write or he’ll
32be forgetting me. Give my best love to the dear old Baas & remember me
33very kindly to Howard, & good bye till next week
34
35 Your little sister
36 Olive
37
38
39

1 Colesburg
2 July 12th 1874
3
4 My dear old Sis!
5
6 Yesterday afternoon at half past four a very nice little boy put in
7his appearance. He & Mrs Weakley are both doing very well. I am so
8glad it is all over.
9
10 The dear children are all very good ^&^ I have just sent them all out
11for a walk.
12
13 I was glad to hear darling Sis that you were better. I felt so anxious
14about you all the week & was so relieved when I saw your hand writing.
15I have no time to write to John this post but please thank him for his
16letter & tell him I shall be looking out for a beautiful likeness by
17next post.
18
19 Give my love to old Leo, also When. I was sitting by the fire last
20evening I was thinking so much of the old Cradock days & how we all
21used to sit round the fire, - a band of brothers & sisters.
22
23 I was so sorry to hear from John that poor ?Santell was so ill. Is he
24staying with you now? What is he doing?
25
26 I am not feeling at all well my chest or heart or whatever it is
27troubles me a great deal: but I am happy & always with true love
28
29 Your old sister
30 Olive
31
32

1 Colesberg
2 1874
3
4 My dear old Sissie!
5
6 I have no time to do more than write & thank you for the very
7beautiful photo as Georgie & Joseph are both ill & we don’t seem to
8know which thing to do first.
9
10 Poor dear little George is really very bad but I am glad to say that
11Joseph seems quite bright this morning.
12
13 I like the photos much yours is by far the best that has even been
14taken of you & as for dear old Theo he is as near my beau ideal of
15what a man should look as any one I have ever seen, now he has shaved.
16
17 I will send the things that came for you in my box by the next post
18Cobb & ?fos. You must not pay the carriage. The slippers looked just
19as old & torn when I got them as they do now I think they are a pair
20that Mrs Kruger made for Alice but which she found too small. I had
21the parcel ready to send down by the last coach but had no one to send
22down town with it.
23
24 I am as vexed as you can be at the article in the journal. Mr Weakley
25thinks it was not written with the intention of making fun of you but
26I think it was
27
28 I was so grieved to think of your being so ill perhaps if you manage
29to save enough to pay for your taking your diamond home to Europe your
30selves, the sea voyage may do you good.
31
32 Mrs Weakley sends love & thanks for the likeness &c.
33
34 Good bye darling sister
35 Your loving old
36 Olive
37
38
39

1 Lily Kloof
2 July 29 / 80
3
4 My dear darling old Sister!
5
6 This evening Robert’s letter reached me. I cannot believe that its
7news is really true, that my darling boy is really gone, & your little
8Willie. My little Leo, with his sweet brown eyes, & beautiful curls,
9that loved me so much! I cannot think that he is really gone, that not
10any where in the world would I find that darling face now. Oh, my old
11sister, I don’t know what you must feel. Every time I I think of it it
12comes on me with a fresh blow, & your poor old heart, with your empty
13lonely house!
14
15 I think especially of the last night in Cape Town when he lay in his
16little bed & said "Oh my dear Auntie, put your face quite close to
17mine, on my cheek." I don’t know why that night keeps coming back to
18me now.
19
20 I am so anxious because Robert said that he feared that you might be
21getting the hooping-cough also. Do write to me soon, & tell me how or
22you are, or ask Robert to write; & oh, when you can, do write & tell
23me something more. My poor, poor old sister I do not think I ever felt
24so sorry before for anyone. Please send me two little curls. I hope
25you had your own likeness taken in Cape Town. I feel so very anxious
26about you. Do let me hear from you soon, darling old sister.
27
28 Poor old Robert tells me that baby Ethelwyn had cough too, but seemed
29getting better. I want so to hear whether Wynne has got it. I wish I
30could be with you this evening. They are all dancing here, & it seems
31so strange that anyone can wish to dance.
32
33 Give my love to dear old Robert, & know that I think of you, my dear
34old Alice. I never knew that I loved you so much.
35
36 I will write again soon
37 Olive
38
39

1 81 Guildford St
2 Russell Sq.
3 London. WC
4
5 April 9th 1882
6
7 My dear Alice,
8
9 I was glad once more to hear from you & should have been better
10pleased still had the news about your own health been better.
11
12 About Wynnie’s boots. I went at once to the best medical shoemaker
13in the Strand, took your letter & told him what kind of thing I wanted.
14 He said he could easily make them if he had a cast of the foot. I
15told him he could not have that because the person was in Africa & it
16would take too long. He said "Well without a cast or an exact measure
17I will not make them." I said no one would blame him if the shoes
18boots didn’t fit, but it was no use he wouldn’t do it, & they say
19I won’t find any one who will without the exact measure. You had
20better send me the measure taken very exactly by a shoe-maker & I will
21send the boots out with young Bertram when he returns to the Cape. It
22is a great disappointment to me not to have been able to get them done
23at once. I am going as a last hope to the hospital for complaints of
24the foot, to see if one as one of the doctors there can’t order it
25for me. I think you would rather have them fitting not quite so well,
26than to wait. I hope the dear little woman’s foot will soon grow
27strong. I send you part of Emma’s last letter that you may see what
28she says about the boots. Fred says that if a boot of the kind we want
29was made, it would hurt the foot & weaken it more than strengthen it
30if it didn’t fit very exactly.
31
32 I have not seen the John Hemmings since their return from Paris. I
33fancy they leave soon. I do not know their new address, but shall try
34to learn it at their last lodgings.
35
36 I don’t know if I have written since I was in London. I have been
37here a month now. Will has apartments in the same house. He is leaving
38next week for Cambridge or Eastbourne, he has not quite made up his
39mind which, & will likely remain there till he returns to the old
40Country. I haven’t much to tell of myself. I don’t know a soul in
41London so as you may guess I lead a very quiet life – study &
42scribble all day long. I am hoping in the holidays to have Wilfred
43here for a week & we shall have glorious times together. Often when I
44am with him I think of my old day dreams abut "our boy" & the friends
45I used to think he & I would be if we met after he was grown older.
46Wilfred is very dear to me, but my old Leo has a place no other child
47will ever take.
48
49 Good-bye dear old sister. Let me hear from you soon about the boots. It
50is a great disappointment not to have been able to get them yet, but
51with an exact measure it will be all right
52
53^A kiss for all the little ones from ^
54 Your loving sister
55 Olive
56
57

1 Rose Cottage
2 Bexhill-on-Sea
3 Sussex
4 Oct ^Nov^ 3 / 83
5
6 My dear Alice
7
8 Many thanks for your letter. I am very sorry to hear your health
9remains so bad. As soon as Robert & you can in anyway manage it I
10think your ought to try a change to [pagetorn] Eastern Prov [pagetorn]
11a few weeks [pagetorn] the railways [pagetorn] is not qu [pagetorn]
12difficult matter as it used to be at our old Cape.
13
14 If Wynne cannot walk much don’t you think you ought to try & let her
15get more horse exercise regularly. If she is growing so fast she needs
16something to strengthen her. I am glad & yet sorry to hear the last
17bit [pagetorn] you give me. [pagetorn] you are hardly [pagetorn]
18enough to hear [pagetorn] to your [pagetorn], but [pagetorn] be a
19welcoming greeting sent to the little stranger from over the water
20when it arrives.
21
22 About my book, dear, I did not send you a copy because my horrid old
23publisher made me pay the full price for each copy that I had, & I did
24not like to send to one without sending to all lest they should be
25pained, & I couldn’t send to all. To Mama & Will & a friend at the
26diamond Fields I had promised copies so I had to send them. Now the
27first edition at a guinea is sold out, & there is a cheap 6/- edition
28& I am going to get copies for you all.
29
30 I am now camped for the winter at Bexhill. I live in a little solitary
31cottage near the sea. This is a country place six miles from the
32nearest town, & as I don’t know a soul here my life will be very quiet.
33 There is only myself & the old servant in the house I have hired a
34little bedroom & sitting room & she cooks for me. I mean to do a great
35deal of work this winter if only my chest will let me.
36
37 I had a delightful little visit to Desborough, Mrs Walters had read my
38book & liked it so much that she wrote & invited me to visit them. Her
39husband is a large mine owner. They are so good & kind to me. Then I
40had a pleasant little time in London, every one was so good to me. So
41I mustn’t grumble at the dreary winter, must I. It is dreary to me
42because my chest keeps me indoors. I get a great many kind
43
44[page/s missing]
45

1 My dear old Ettie
2
3 I leave £1. 11/6 is for the rest of the rent & t there is the 5/- I
4got from you the other day I hope it has rested that dear tired heart
5to be with Miss Ellis & Mrs Milhall.
6
7 I didn’t mean to be cross dear this morning, but I’m so tired.
8Would you like me to write to Stead the editor of the P.M.G. & ask him
9to see you. He’s one of my greatest friends in England, & you & he
10will I think sympathise very much on religious matters. I’ve waited
11here till 10.30 but I think you won’t come till the 12 train so
12I’m going back. My darling I want so much to make your stay here
13happy. I came back from Italy this year just because I thought you
14would perhaps be lonely here, & I couldn’t bear you to know the
15agony of loneliness I have felt in England. We can’t do much for
16each other in this world after all.
17
18 Love from a long way off Olive
19
20
21

1 My darling old Sister
2
3 I had a letter from Stead this morning saying he would certainly come
4& see you this morning if at all possible & if he couldn’t get away
5he would write to you & appoint a time
6
7 Can’t you come over here about four, there will be a good many
8people coming sometimes there are twenty or more sometimes only one or
9two - & it might be interesting to you to see them though they might
10not be people you would like in the way I am sure you would like Stead.
11
12 My own darling old Ettie, you know how I feel to you don’t you. I am
13always so much under pressure in my solitary like that I cannot relax
14much otherwise I should not have be strong enough.
15
16 Your little Olive
17
18
19

1 Sunday afternoon
2
3 My darling old Ettie.
4
5 I am so glad to think you are going to see Mrs Brown. You must write &
6tell me just how you are situated. Has the Dadda asked any of you to
7Eastbourne. If not when you have rested a little at Burnley, you must
8come here. I am not allowed to have children here & my rooms are so
9tiny they would not be comfortable. My idea is to take a large bedroom
10& sitting close by, & for for you to be always in my dear quiet little
11rooms resting I do believe that a little time here will be rest. We
12will go together every evening after dark for a ride on the top of an
13omnibus; it is so restful. I go alone every night now.
14
15 An American publisher sent me £30 for quite unexpectedly & I’ve
16used £20 in making my little rooms liveable in, & I’ve always been
17thinking it was for you to come. I hope the voyage has not tired you
18quite so much as the last. Don’t trouble to write but just a word
19about plans. You will love them all at Burnley & they you.
20
21 Is the dear old Baas any better. Something is very wrong with him
22I’m sure. That ?contraction about his eyes I don’t like.
23
24 Give my love to Winny & the boys & to our dear friends at Burnley. It
25will be so beautiful if you can get to care abut them something as I
26do. They have been the truest friends I have ever had.
27
28 Good bye. Rest my darling, & feel how much I am loving you.
29 Olive
30
31 I enclose a letter from Bertie Everett’s mother. I am looking
32forward much to your seeing him when you go back.
33
34 Please return Mrs Everetts letter.
35
36
37

1 My dear old Ettie
2
3 Please be sure & let me know whether you have been able to get the
4rooms at Vis-chhoek.
5
6 I am able to leave England because I think I am going there to rest. I
7am very anxious to hear how you stood the voyage but it cannot be for
8some weeks yet. Theo & Katie, I think, leave next Tuesday for the
9continent. I’ve not any news to give Give my love to Guy & Elberty
10& dear old Nanny. I long to see your face
11
12 Your little sister
13 Olive
14

1 My beautiful old sister,
2
3 I have taken my passage in the Norham castle which sails on the 11th
4of October. Please take the rooms in Vis-chhoek at once if it be
5necessary so to secure them. I am unreadable
6
7 I am thinking of you everyday on that long terrible voyage. I could
8not have borne it to say good bye to you if I had not seen Vis-chhoek
9before me.
10
11 Good bye my wonderful beautiful old sister.
12
13 Olive
14
15
16

1 Darling, the likeness is beautiful my-old-little-girl-Ettie-sister of
2Witterberg it looks like.
3
4 I am going to come out one day this week or next week & if you &
5Robert & the children would meet me at Somerset West, we might go to
6Vander Stells old garden & then I might come home the same night.
7I’ve had my likeness taken by Barnard. He took me for nothing but I
8will send you two.
9
10 Olive
11
12 ^Have you decided about Worcester.^
13
14 ^I think you may like to see dear old Lillie’s letter. Return it.^
15
16
17

1 Robert from his sister
2 Olive Schreiner
3
4
5

1 Cape Town
2 Thursday
3
4 Darling Et,
5
6 I know you will be glad to know I am quite well here. Of course weak,
7but all right.
8
9 Splendid news from Mother which Roberton will have sent you. It was
10not the convent folk who telegraphed to Fan at all, but John Hemming
11who found out by chance how ill Mother was. They seem to have been
12very kind to her.
13
14 I hope you are having a good time of work in the Paarl; one is only
15happy when one is doing ones lifes work whatever that may be. Mrs
16?Jubert & Miss Drummond are staying with Fan now. Fan is very kind &
17sweet as always. Dear old Robert has been so gentle & kind to me all
18this time. I fear I have been a great trouble to him.
19
20 I will come out with him to Vis-choek Tuesday but my sudden
21instantaneous getting well here shows me that it is a matter of air; &
22I fear Wednesday will see me flying back. ?Fanny has gone Just got
23enclosed from Annie Hemming.
24
25 Am so glad they have been so good to Mother. Am writing to them.
26
27 Ah Ettie it is so beautiful to be able to breathe.
28
29 All this time would have been so beautiful if I could have breathed &
30seen anything. I think in the Spring ^Autumn^ when some of my work is
31done you & I will will have a good time together & perhaps go to
32Kimberly & Johannesburg together.
33
34 My darling old Ettie.
35 Olive
36
37
38

1 Ceres
2 Monday afternoon
3
4 I send you a letter from Alice as there is a message from for you. I
5have not yet an answer from Dr Great head to my telegram of this
6morning. I have written to him.
7
8 You know how I love you though I never speak. I am obliged entirely to
9suppress myself or I should break down.
10
11 It will be a bitter disappointment to me if I have to spend the next
12six months here & you at Vishhoek, but one must take everything
13exactly as it comes.
14
15 Good bye.
16 Olive
17
18 I am getting quite well.
19
20
21

1 Sunday afternoon
2
3 My old Ettie,
4
5 I enclose mother’s last telegram to me: that settles the question.
6Please return it. Thank you for your letter. Yes, I always understand
7you perfectly. Better I think than any one else in the world does.
8
9 I am better I have not been out of my room yet, but I feel sure I
10shall like this place, only not nearly so well as Vis-choek. I
11couldn’t settle down here without giving Vischoek one more try, but
12I must stay here a week or two before I undertake the journey. I am
13like a child with a fester that doesn’t throb as long as it holds it
14quite still. Perhaps if I came to Vishhoek after you have been living
15there some weeks the air of the house will be different. I have never
16liked a place anywhere so much. Wire whether Robert is to meet you at
17Ceres Rd or if you are coming here. I want you but I would feel so
18reproached if my being here led to fresh meeting & fresh work. There
19is a terrible look that comes over your face sometimes that makes me
20very anxious. Its quickness of going & coming makes me dislike it more
21than anything else. It came over your face once at Montague & once in
22the train. More or less of rest is now an absolute necessity to you.
23It will be such an awful thing when you give in, as you will do sooner
24or later. If we can spend some months at Vis-choek together I believe
25we shall get quite strong; & you require to give a certain time not
26only to writing but to reading, you mind needs rest as much as your
27body. Wire if you are coming on Tuesday morning, that we can see that
28a cart is at the station for you. I want to see you; I feel lost when
29you are away, a curious sense of miss; but I do not wish you to come
30here just for my sake. I am all right. I am afraid Robert has had a
31dull time here by himself. He has been very kind to me
32
33 Give my love to the boys & to dear Wynnie & Effie. Tell them how sorry
34I was not to see them, & give my love to dear old Anna. I was in such
35unreadable ^a state^ I hardly seemed to see any thing.
36
37 Olive
38
39
40

1 Grahamstown
2 Wednesday
3
4 My Ettie.
5
6 How strangely unlike anything we had planned all is turning out. Here
7I am at Lillies. We got here at five on Monday having travelled with
8out stopping since Friday evening I don’t think I would have got
9here without Robert. His goodness to me has been wonderful. What
10distresses me is the expense of the journey for him. I found the
11little mother looking better than I had expected. What I do not like
12is the horrible dead white colour that comes over her face. She will
13not die now. At the same time, I feel it cannot be for long. It is the
14beginning of the end. I wish so much I could move her to larger
15brighter rooms. I am going to see if I can’t get her moved out for a
16few weeks & have her rooms well done up. I know Fred would like to
17have it done at his cost. I was not able to see mother yesterday, but
18Lilly Auntie & Emma went. Lilly has been more kind to me than any
19words can describe. She made me come here from the hotel & sat up with
20me the greater part of ^whole^ of the first night & the greater part of
21last. Nothing distresses me so much as the helpless burden I am to
22other people. The doctor injected morphine into my arm, & I am taking
23advantage of the few hours freedom from pain to write. I do not know
24yet what my plans are. I can’t give up my Vis-choek without another
25trial. As soon as mother is at all so that I can leave her, I shall
26start but you had better write here as it may not be till next week. I
27shall break the terrible journey by a two or three days stay in
28Cradock. I feel I have been such a bitter disappointed to you my old
29Ettie, but it is your being in Africa that makes it possible for me to
30stay here so far from all my friends in England. Whenever I think of
31you I don’t feel lonely.
32
33 Address here when you write, & please write at once. Please dear look
34about my room & in the little box & my bath & see whether there is a
35little roll of my allegories most of them printed, some in M.S.
36fastened together by a little metal fastener. Will you please if you
37find them keep them very safe. I am feeling so anxious thinking they
38are lost. I thought they were in the little black box, but they
39aren’t.
40
41 Please write me a line. Give my love to all the children, Wynne &
42Effie when you write
43 Olive
44
45
46

1 Mount Vernon
2 Cape Town
3
4 Dec 27th 1889.
5
6 Dear Ettie,
7
8 I send you mother’s letter to me as there are messages to you. I had
9also a note from Lilly who says mother doing splendidly, quite herself
10again. I had letter from dear old [wordspace] . He wrote so tenderly of
11you. He says he feels he can never express to you how much tenderness
12he feels towards you.
13
14 I spent my Xmas day here alone but was quite happy. I went out
15yesterday to spend the day with you Fanny at Kalk Bay. I couldn’t
16stay the night I was afraid of asthma. I feel such longing to see you.
17
18 My old Winnie has gone away. Mrs Gee sends me my breakfast & dinner, I
19paying, & I get my tea myself.
20
21 Good night my sister. Give my love especially to Wynnie & Effie, tell
22them I am coming some day on purpose to see them.
23
24 Good night.
25
26 Olive
27
28 I am using my little stand. The work box will be very useful as I have
29nothing of the kind.
30
31

1 Matjesfontein
2 May 6 / 90
3
4 My darling old Sister
5
6 Do drop me a line to say you are in Worcester & how you are. My
7beautiful old sister, you don’t know who good to me is the thought
8of you always I hope you will feel better now you have got to
9Worcester Nothing ever happens here of which I can tell you, I live on
10here quietly alone.
11
12 Good bye.
13 Love to all the little ones & Winnie
14 Olive
15 Your own little sister
16
17

1 57 Grove Street
2 July 16 / 91
3
4 My darling sister
5
6 I was so glad to get your letter this morning. Your joy makes me very
7happy. I believe the two years rest will entirely restore you. Try &
8read; it rests one so. Get Ruskins Modern Painters. The small two vol
9new edition, which is practically re-written & much improved.
10
11 I am so happy when all I think of your happiness dear. It seems one of
12the few quite beautiful things, I have to think of just now.
13
14 Seymour Fort has gone for good to Mashona-land. He quarrelled with the
15Lochs about Sir Henry niece with whom her was in love. She is a very
16sweet girl, & very fond of him She has gone to England now. Sh I loved
17her very much.
18
19 Will & all his are very well & flourishing. Dot grows beautiful, & so
20does Baby.
21
22 Maggie is still with them. (Private) She seems very unhappy &
23depressed, & she seems a great tie on Fan too who is very sweet &
24unselfish to her. They haven’t asked her to stay there, but she stays
25on & on. I can see it adds great pressure to Will’s life. I can’t say
26any thing to her, but couldn’t you suggest to her how well it would be
27if she got a situation at some Dutch farm, did something to make
28herself independent. She can’t stay with Emma, she doesn’t get on with
29Earp. I think something you said would be more likely to rouse her. If
30she does marry, she ought to marry at once, or break it off.
31
32 I have seen the dear old Baas & Katie once. I feel much nearer them
33than I used to be. You will They are so much broader.
34
35 I am well physically have had no asthma since I came down. I am have
36been two months in these lodgings & shall perhaps stay two more. I
37can’t tell you much about myself dear. I feel torpid & not able to do
38much. I will send you a little story I have written the Buddhist
39Priests Wife, & an article & another little story. I have not spoken
40to Mr Rhodes for two months except once for an instant. He is I had to
41oppose him on the native flogging bill, but I think that is not really
42the reason. What ever it may be I feel able to take it quietly Nothing
43is ever really taken away from one that one really has a right to;
44however much it may seem so.
45
46 Seymour Fort will be up in Mashona-land for some years. I am anxious
47for him.
48
49^My darling you will understand this letter & not think it cold & hard.
50I have plenty of power to think of & love other people & help them if
51I can, none to express anything. I send you a beautiful letter I got
52from old Lilly this morning.
53
54 Good bye dear. Love to the children. Do you ever go to Ventnor. I
55spent a long terrible winter there. That is why I thought you would
56not like it, I suppose.
57
58 Your little sister
59 Olive^
60

1 Matjesfontein
2 April 23 / 92
3
4 My own old sister
5
6 It’s so long since I had any news from you. How are you? Where are
7you? I do hope the air & beauty of my beloved old Italy will give you
8the help & strength it more than once gave to me. I hope you will go
9to Florence if you go to any of the large town. That is the city I
10love best. Give my love to my dear old brother Stakesby. I don’t
11know what I should feel about you if I didn’t know he was with you
12taking care of you. For me, my life goes on in the old groove. I went
13down to Cape Town three weeks ago with my dear friends Captain & Mrs
14Marriott & wanted to stay with her till her baby was born but my
15asthma got so bad I had to come back here. I may be going down again
16in a months time to see them. Fan’s little one is expected about the
1721st of May. I long so to have you back in this country, dear. I had
18hope to leave in next April for Europe, but don’t know if I can get
19my work done. It would be a joy to me greater than almost any thing if
20you had a little child.
21
22^I hope it may yet be. Good bye my own old Ettie^
23
24Your
25Olive
26
27 ^Love to Stakesby & the boys. Do the seem strong & well?^
28
29

1 Matjesfontein
2 April 28 / 92
3
4 My old Ettie
5
6 It does seem so long since I heard news of you. But if you were ill I
7should hear. I do hope so Italy is really resting you. It takes a long
8time before one can begin to rest when one has been so very tired &
9worn out as you my darling. Before you go to Florence you must get
10?Vasarie’s Lives of the Painters" It makes Florence such a different
11place to one & the work lives for one when one knows the men. The boys
12would be interested in some parts. I am I am hoping when I see thee
13again dear one to see thy youth renewed as an eagles. Give my love to
14thy dear husband. I wish I could see him & know him.
15
16 All goes well with me, I have quite got over the asthma & am working
17again. Write & tell me what you think of my Italy.
18
19 Your own little sis;
20 Olive
21
22 I’m very happy, you know those times when one is so happy &
23contented simply to live & do ones work, & when there is ?even no
24struggle as there is at certain times to lose sight of ones personal
25life & distress.
26
27 This African sky & nature is such a comfort to me even Eng Italy is
28not quite the Karroo to me
29
30 Olive
31

1 Matjesfontein
2
3 My darling sister
4
5 I so prize even a word from you. I am glad you have found a place that
6suits you better, & am very grateful that the winter will soon be over
7with you. Give my love to Stakesby & tell him I don’t mind having my
8address given to any one, because I’ve got wiser, & if I don’t see
9any need for answering the letters people send me I don’t answer
10them.
11
12 I wish I see you both. I am sure I should love your husband for his
13own sake as well as because of all he is to you There is no news to
14give you dear. I am back at Matjesfontein, writing a thing about men &
15women & sex that I think you will like, but very few people will
16understand.
17
18 I shall I think be returning to Europe in the March of next year. Not
19before I can’t get my work done.
20
21 Of the old Will I saw next to nothing even when I was in Town. He’s
22had bad influenza but is at work again. He is a L.C. now which will
23help him in his work. The little mother I seldom hear from. She
24doesn’t write so often as she grows older.
25
26 We all having glorious weather but everybody has been ill. Apart from
27my work I seem to have no personal life left, nor any plans nearer
28than the going to England in the next year, if my work is done.
29
30 Mr Newberry passed here the other day: I saw him for a few moments.
31What a fine fellow he is.
32
33 Goodbye my dear old Ettie
34 Your little sister
35 Olive
36
37
38

1 Middelburg.
2 Feb 4 / 93.
3
4 Dear old Ellie,
5
6 My own darling. How I long to see you. I hope it is beautiful for you
7to be out here again. I hope it’s all beautiful about you & that a
8new time of strength & health is coming.
9
10 I had such great hopes of the physical effect of marriage for you my
11dear one. When we went to Healdtown I remembered so that day,
12Willie’s birthday, when we climbed the hill behind station & sat on
13the flat rock on the very top, & picked some red flowers, & you & I
14talked of all sorts of things. We were so young then. I slept in Mr
15?Fish’s room, & when I lay in bed there came back the nights before
16Ellie was born when you & ^I^ used to sit up in the window.
17
18 I think I shall like to go back to England & see all my friends, but I
19don’t mind much one way or another. All seems almost alike to me.
20One strives so all ones life that the feeling of "self" with it’s
21desires & needs may die out, & when the time comes when it seems dead,
22one looks back upon the old struggle as something almost beautiful;
23but one wouldn’t have it back.
24
25 I have a little room here ^in a cottage^ to myself, & its quieter than a
26farm.
27
28 Good bye, my old sister
29 Your little old
30 Olive
31
32 Don’t write yourself dear, let someone else write.
33
34
35

1 Krantz Plaatz
2 Feb. 27. 1894
3
4 My own little Mother. I’ve not had time before to tell you about our
5quiet little wedding. On Friday morning dear old Theo came to
6Middelburg, but Cron only came the same night about 11 o’clock. On
7Saturday morning many letters & wires came for us at breakfast. We had
8over fifty telegrams during the day & a cable from the old Dadda came
9yesterday.
10
11 After breakfast I & dear old Theo walked up to the Magistrates private
12house together, Cron, & his friend Mr Webber, & old Mr Nixon the
13Inspector of Schools & Mr Jacob an old Jewish money ender who lives in
14Middelburg & Miss Gowie who had asked me if she might come, having
15gone on before another way. These were all who were in the room except
16the Magistrate & his wife. Cron & I sat at a little square table in
17the centre of the room & signed the forms & repeated something after
18the Magistrate & then we were married & Theo & Cron & I got into a
19Cape cart we had ordered & went for a little drive. When we got back
20to the village about 11.30 I went to see young Mr Gowie who is very
21ill & Theo & Cron & Mr Webber went about together & sent off wires & I
22went back to the hotel by myself, & finished my packing all the
23morning. At one o’clock I went down to lunch & directly after the
24waggonette with four horses was ready, & I came down stairs. Half
25Middelburg had gathered at the Hotel door to see us off, & Dr & Mrs
26Saunders among the rest. They threw showers of rice at us, & fastened
27at the back of the wagon an immense shoe, & threw another into the
28wagon after us. Theo & Mrs Webber went with us to the station & saw us
29off at 3.30 in the train for the farm. I wore the blue black dress &
30black hat I wear every day & Cron wore his ordinary clothes. I was so
31glad dear old Theo was there it was such a comfort to me.
32
33 We got to Halesowen Siding Station about 8 oclock. The stars were
34shining. Cron’s cart & a native boy were waiting for us, & we packed
35as many of the things we could into the cart & came on here. The drive
36took almost half an hour & when we drew up before the dark long
37farmhouse, Cron’s two dogs Daphne & Maggie ran out to meet us,
38barking & rejoicing. In the "fore huis" we found the table laid, & a
39nice fowl on the table that Cron’s ?Mother had sent up for us.
40
41 The house is all as it was in Cron’s bachelor days, except that he
42has had the floors plastered to keep the dust away from my chest. In
43our dining room – there is now a plastered floor, two little wooden
44cupboards that belonged to Cron’s father, a little table with some
45oil cloth on at which we have our meals, four wooden chairs & an iron
46couch, & in the corner on a little stand an old fashioned clock that
47used to be Cron’s mother’s.
48
49 But all the room & the whole house is so beautifully clean & neat as
50every thing is with which Cron has any thing to do. In the bedroom is
51a large double bedstead I contributed to the housekeeping & Cron’s
52old desk he has used since a boy; & his little book shelf in the
53corner & a chest of drawers, & a little washing stand, that is all.
54
55 We are going to have the dining room & some of the other rooms papered
56& got into good order, & without any expense we shall make our little
57house quite nice in time. We are going to put up shelves & make
58curtains & do all sorts of things. In was very hot on Sunday & we
59rested through the heat of the day, but in the afternoon Cron & I went
60down to the river & bathed at the mimosa trees growing there. It is
61such a pity the original owners put the house here, because there are
62such beautiful spots on the farm. When we came back from our walk it
63was getting dark & we went to the kraals to count the goats in. I went
64with Cron & counted two flocks quite right!
65
66 Yesterday morning Cron & I started after breakfast & went to an out
67kraal right away in the Hoek, a beautiful valley on the farm, among
68the mountains, where his out kraals are. There is hardly any kind of
69road & we had to go through some wonderful krantzes sluits. At the top
70of the valley there is a dam in which some of the cows & bulls were
71drinking, & the old Kaffir herd there hailed the herd on the mountain
72by shouting, with his hand before his mouth. The herd on the mt heard
73& came down with his flock of angora goats for Cron to count them. I
74sat under a mimosa tree while Cron counted them into the kraal. There
75is the herd’s hut close to the kraal, & his wife had a beautiful
76little cat the mother of which was a tame cat but the father a large
77wild cat on the mountain; she gave it me, I promising her a dress. It
78was very pretty to see the cats lying with their paws across a little
79kid that had lost its mother. I never saw a cat & a goat caress each
80other before.
81
82 When we got back here it was two oclock & very hot. We had dinner &
83laid down for our afternoon sleep & in the evening Cron & I went to
84the kraals to count the goats in again. I was very sleepy & went to
85bed early but Cron sat pretty late at his desk answering letters.
86
87 This morning he got up very early to count the goats out. I was going
88to rise with him to the Camp where they are today plucking the
89ostriches but Cron thought I had better stay & pack my things right.
90So Cron went off at 9 oclock alone & I’ve been unpacking my boxes &
91have now come to Cron’s desk to write.
92
93 Before he went out he showed me how to use the loaded revolver that he
94always keeps hanging at the foot of the bed in a case. He will often
95be away, & I here alone with no one for miles & miles but the native
96servants but I shall never feel nervous. I never can fancy that any
97one could attack me. The house is very nice & quiet now; there is not
98a sound but the old clock ticking in the dining room, & Rose our
99Hottentot maid & only house servant moving about in the kitchen. Cron
100would like me to have another but I think it is better to have only
101one. He manages his servants ideally – One of his men has been with
102him seven years, none less than three! The talk about the
103impossibility of getting servants on a farm is all nonsense. Cron has
104always more than he needs, & he is a stern & firm master; but always
105just & generous. I think his strong sense of justice is one of the
106most marked traits in his character: & that which makes one feel
107reliance in him.
108
109 My little wild cat has just come in & I have given it some water. It
110must be very hot for Cron out in the sun plucking the birds; he will
111be in at half past one & we shall have dinner & then a long rest & lie
112down. At four we make some tea ourselves as the girl has gone home &
113we get up & get to our business the servant comes back at six & gets
114our supper ready. Its a very quiet & to many would seem a very prosaic
115way of spending a honeymoon but its what we both like.
116
117 Good bye my own little mother
118 Your Olive
119
120 My mother, I meant to write a number of letters, to Dadda & my other
121friends in England, telling them my news; but I shan’t have time
122this week. Will you send it on in the enclosed cover to Dadda & ask
123him to send it to Mrs Brown 68 Bank Parade, Burnley, Lancashire; & she
124must send it to Alice Corthorn & Alice must send it to Havelock Ellis.
125
126

1 Darling Effie
2
3 This was a poem that someone made for Uncle Cron on his wedding day. I
4was so glad of your letter darling. Do write to me sometimes & tell me
5how all goes. My love to the boys & Hester & ?Nanny & Father & Mother.
6
7 Your little Auntie
8 Olive
9
10 Address Mrs Olive Schreiner, Krantz Plaats, P.O. Halesowen Cape Colony
11
12 I am very well & like the farm, wild & lonely as it is Uncle Cron
13sends much love to you all.
14
15
16

1 Darling Effie
2
3 Thanks do much for your letter. I should indeed love to see you all
4again. I saw Willie Kooper, Maggies boy, yesterday. He’s an
5interesting boy. Aunt Fan Dot & Ursula will go out to Africa the week
6after next. I like Olivers wife very much. My dear love to you all
7
8 Aunt Olive
9
10
11

1 Amalfi
2 March 18 / 97
3
4 My darling old sis
5
6 I’ve had asthma ever since I got to England, & its worse since we
7came on the continent. unreadable We went to Rome & I got worse there,
8& we had to leave after a few days & ?P when we had intended to stay a
9couple of months; then we went in to Naples & I got worse there, & we
10came here yesterday & am no better so we are going back to Alassio my
11old resort in the Riviera where I have never had asthma before if I
12don’t get better there we shall have to return to Kimberley at once;
13but I do hope it will not be necessary. I want Cron so to see a little
14more of my friend in London, & to see a little more of Europe because
15we shall likely never return again.
16
17 Good bye my sweet darling give my love to the children. I often wonder
18if Wyn is in love with any one. She looked so beautiful & bright, so
19full of life. When you write address
20
21 c/o Alice Corthorn
22 19 Russell Rd
23 Kensington
24 London.
25
26 She sends our letters on to us. I am sending two little broaches for
27Wyn & Effie (quite common just curiosities) I bought for them in Rome.
28
29 PPS
30
31 Give my love to dear of Theo, & Katie & Willie Stuart. There are so
32many little Italian boys here that remind us both of Willie Stuart.
33
34

1 The Homestead
2 Jan 16 / 98
3
4 My darling
5
6 It was such a joy to see you though just for a minute, but you looked
7so utterly tired & worn out. Perhaps the change may do you both good,
8but I cannot help feeling very anxious perhaps unreasonably so. It is
9just the fever season, & so many, so many, of of my friends have gone
10up there already to die. The last was a ^physically^ splendid young
11fellow from England, he stayed some time with us here, & left in such
12high spirits & delight, something told me as I watched him walk away
13from the back door he was going to his death & six weeks after he was
14lying in his grave at Bulawayo from fever & dysentery. Do take care to
15boil all water you take. Especially for people who don’t take tea &
16coffee this is all-important. If the Newberrys are suffering from
17malarial fever the fever, as they call it up there the sooner you get
18them down to the Colony the better. Its their one chance of getting f
19well.
20
21 You might bring them to the hospital here & then stay with us for a
22little time!! Do try & break the journey here as you come down.
23
24 unreadable I fear you had an awful time in the train last night if the
25carriage leaked at all for here it poured all night.
26
27 I was going to drive in early this morning to wire but Cron said that
28Stakesby said the last thing that her he was going to wire from one of
29the stations.
30
31 I thought none of the stations took passengers wires on Sunday, but
32Cron says they do & its no use my going in. I do hope you will get a
33comfortable room & have a real good sleep tonight.
34
35 The Lucases big house is to let, or for sale at only £550! I do wish
36you could buy it & come & live up here; I’m sure it would be better
37for your health & Stakesby’s
38
39 Good bye my own darling, I don’t know why I feel so sad about you.
40Perhaps it was seeing you go off in that heavy rain, perhaps the many
41sad partings I have had with people who went up there. Take care of
42both of yourselves, & please ask Stakesby to send me just a post card
43every few days.
44
45 Cron sends much love to you both.
46
47 Your little sis
48 Olive
49
50

1 My own old Ettie
2
3 You are always in my thoughts. I was so glad to get Etta Leuw’s
4reply address to my wire. I feel so anxious lest the long watching &
5terrible anxiety of that time might have prostrated you. One can’t
6bear as one gets older the agony or physical strain one could easily
7stand when young: the body gives in!
8
9 I do long so to see you my dear one, if I could only see you for ten
10minutes.
11
12 Cron’s mother has been staying with us a fortnight, & I have
13unreadable no servant, but the Hottentot boy who looks after the horse
14who helps me wash the pots &c.
15
16 Good bye my own darling.
17
18 Your old
19 Olive
20
21 Dear old Stakesby, it was always such pain to me that somany people
22fancied he was giving way to his illness, & I could always see that he
23was trying to bear up in a condition when most people would just have
24given in. I think I never saw a man bear up more nobly under what one
25might call a slow death! Isn’t it strange how some people can’t
26see what a human creature is going through unless they lie down &
27unreadable can’t eat. When people once get to that stage then the
28worst is over for them, & I almost comparatively, cease to be sorry
29for them.
30
31 Good bye my own darling
32 Your old sissie
33 Olive
34
35
36

1 My darling Ettie
2
3 Your letter & mine have crossed. Ah, yes, my dear one, I know that
4awful worry when one is gone, the thought of all we might have done
5for them. It is always so. And the truth is that often we have done
6all that lay in our power. But it never looks like that when they are
7gone.
8
9 I do hope you will try to take care of yourself my darling. If you get
10over the next few years in quiet & strength, there may be a glorious
11old age of work before you. I wish I could see you, my dear one. I
12don’t want you to come here, because there would be too many sad
13associations, but if Cron & I go to live, as is just possible in
14Bloemfontein or Johannesburg, come & stay with us a little. Oh I love
15you so my darling Ettie. I’m sure you want complete change of scene
16& life for a little while.
17
18 Good bye my dear one.
19 Olive
20
21 Cron is still up at Johannesburg. He will likely return next Saturday
22having been gone three weeks.
23
24 June 6th 1898
25

1 June 26th 1898
2
3 Darling
4
5 I am, in a way, glad you are going to Robertson for a little while. I
6know so well that longing to be near the grave of one you love, &
7people are quite mistaken in believing in intensifies ones ones pain,
8its often the only real comfort ones heart has. But I do wish when you
9have been at Robertson a little while you could get away to some
10complete change. It’s many years since you were at Balfour. I wish
11too I could go there & see the old father’s grave. I am pregnant
12again, but am still only in the second month, so don’t mention it to
13any one, the little mother should be so pained if she heard it from
14others first. I shall not be taken ill till the end of January or
15beginning of February.
16
17 I am feeling very well, but for the sickness in the morning. Money
18troubles weigh on me the most, the thought that if I die I shall not
19leave my baby one farthing, & Cron has his mother & sister to provide
20for who are of course his first consideration. That is the only
21thought that takes away my joy, but I may get well & strong after its
22birth, & be able to work on a few years longer. If I can once get
23£400 put by for it in case of my death I shall be quite happy.
24
25 Yes, dear I had a most curious tenderness for Stakesby. Its more than
26once as I lay awake at night that I wrote long letters to him telling
27him how much I sympathized with him & knew how bravely he was bearing
28up, but when the morning came I was always too tired. That was before
29you went up to Bulawayo. I knew the sign of death on him him that
30rainy day when you drove me up to the Highlands a
31
32 Good bye my own darling.
33 Your Olive
34
35 I am so well as far as asthma &c goes but the continual sickness on
36the stomach that one suffers from at such times makes it impossible
37for me to write much.
38

1 The Homestead
2 July 27 / 98
3
4 Darling Effie
5
6 I’m so glad mother is so satisfied. I knew she would be.
7
8 I was talking to Hudson yesterday & he says he’s quite sure you would
9be able to make a living in Johannesburg by your typewriting. He would
10advise you to practice hard for a couple of months first, however. Bt
11I can’t f help feeling anxious about you in Johannesburg, because I
12don’t think you would be very keen in seeing the difference between
13the people who are desirable & those who may not be so, if they are
14only friendly & kind. You know what I mean.
15
16 Give my love to my darling old sister when you write. Does Winnie say
17she seems better.
18
19 Your small Aunt, Olive
20
21 I will come in to see you as soon as I can, perhaps tomorrow.
22
23 Love to Mrs Lodge.
24
25
26

1 My darling old Sister
2
3 I am often with you in thought but write to no one any more. Give my
4love to dear old Theo if you see him. unreadable There’s no news to
5give you, dear, all goes on as it was. I am anxious to hear how Guy is
6doing with his studies
7
8 Your little sister Olive
9
10 Oh Ettie I sometimes long to see you so.
11
12
13

1 Dounan’s House
2 Hospital Hill
3 Nov – 16 / 98
4
5 Darling old Ettie
6
7 I hope very much some day you will come up here. I somehow think you
8would find the high air relieves you. Everything else but the air is
9very terrible to me here, but its very interesting & many people like
10it. Is dear old Wynnie coming up at Xmas to Mrs Reilly’s? It will be
11so delightful to see her.
12
13 Good bye dear one. I am starting out on ^Friday^ ^to^ Kimberley to pack
14the things. When once we have moved into our cottage & are settled
15then I will rest. Oh Ettie rest, rest, how beautiful it is! My ideal
16of heaven is a place like a big bed where you lie for month & month &
17
18^never move & look out of a window as you lie.^
19
20 Your little sis
21Olive

1 Lyndall
2 Newlands
3 Cape Town
4 Nov 22 / 99
5
6 Darling old Ettie
7
8 Do drop me a line to tell me how Mother’s heath is & when we are to
9expect you back.
10
11 Eliza & I are going up tomorrow afternoon to the Highlands to see your
12babies. I have been in I’ve been in bed three days with my heart,
13the asthma & angina which together makes one very weak. Yes, my
14belovèd one it seems hard that just when one has begun to learn &
15feels as if one might be of a little use to others one’s strength is
16gone. That half an hours reading or writing, a little walk, all knock
17one up. I shall always keep that letter you wrote me at the farm dear.
18It isn’t often one feels one can really express anything one feels
19one is too tired. One’s heart is really broken though one goes on
20living so calmly.
21
22 Good bye, dear.
23 Your
24 Olive
25
26
27

1 Hanover
2 Sunday morning
3
4 My darling
5
6 I hardly know whether I am sorry about your accident because I believe
7that some such thing is the only way in which you will ever get a
8little rest.
9
10 Yes it would be very beautiful if my chest were so that I could come &
11live in or near Cape Town so that I could sometimes come & see you.
12
13 The loneliness of my life here something ?uncannie, I used to feel as
14if my reason would give way under it. But since I got that book things
15seem easier to me. I have just been reading another book he has
16written since called "The Hearts of Men." It is like a key to "the
17Soul of a People" to me. All the ideas & thoughts in "the Soul of a
18People" are mine, seem written from my own heart, only much more
19beautifully & sweetly than I would have written them, but there was
20something about the way it touched me that I couldn’t understand.
21Now I have read "the Hearts of Men" I quite understand why it must be
22so. In "the Hearts of Men" there is much about his own childhood &
23youth, & the which his thoughts & religious experiences followed each
24other & grew is so exactly like my own that it sometimes seems
25impossible two souls should have had experiences so exactly alike.
26
27 He must have had something the same feeling to my writing because of
28that long beautiful letter he wrote me in 1890 just when I came out to
29the Cape. It was so beautiful that I put it away in the little box
30where I put father’s and Ellie’s hair & there it was burnt when
31the British burnt my things in Johannesburg. but I never answered it.
32Such a sharp pain comes to me when I think that if I had answered it
33we might have become friends. But it doesn’t matter now. People have
34invented heaven so that there might be a place where all the mistakes
35we have made in this life shall be put right.
36
37 I am so sorry to hear Ettie Lewis is so ill. I have been thinking so
38much of her ^before I got your letter^. It’s very tragic.
39
40 I hope your knee is better my darling, but not so much better that you
41don’t rest!
42
43 Good bye darling.
44Olive
45
46 If I should be able to say save money enough to go to Balfour in the
47winter is here any chance of your being able to go with me? I want so
48to go & see father’s grave once more. Cron will be away at
49Parliament all the winter, & that is the time of year when I can
50travel best in the Eastern province. Think it over."
51

1 My dear Wynnie
2
3 Thank you so much for your letter which I got this morning. I am so
4glad to hear the little mother goes on well.
5
6 I feel better since I came here. I have such a nice little room with
7such a pretty wall paper. It seems to do me good lying here. I don’t
8know when we shall leave certainly not before next Monday, & perhaps
9is the dear kind folks will let us pay for some weeks.
10
11 Thank my dear old sister for her note & tell her I will write tomorrow.
12 If I get stronger I shan’t need any one, so the young lady Aunt Ettie
13wrote of mustn’t put off getting another
14
15 ^place because of me. All seems so uncertain now. I hope Aunt Ettie is
16resting a little & you are all feeling better for the change.
17
18 Your little aunt
19 Olive
20
21 Haartebeest Hoek
22 nr de Aar
23 Wednesday evening^
24
25
26

1 Thursday night
2
3 My darling Ettie
4
5 I am haunted by the feeling mother is going to die, & oh I must see
6her just once for a few hours before she goes. Ettie, if I wire I am
7coming & you can find out when I will be at Alice-dale, please send
8some one there to meet me. I will pay all expenses. I may not be able
9to change from one train to the other. It is terrible to be so
10helpless.
11
12 I wired this morning to know how mother was (Reply Paid) & the
13Commandant here kindly wired too thinking his letter might get through
14quicker. If only I have once got to Grahamstown & seen mother I don’t
15seem to send mind what happens to me. I had another fit of fainting &
16angina this afternoon & if that comes on in the train I am quite
17helpless I shall pay all expenses if some one will come as far as
18Alice-dale to meet me. I will wire when I leave this. I shall not
19
20 ^won’t be able to leave tomorrow
21
22 Olive^
23
24
25

1 Thursday afternoon
2
3 My darling
4
5 Your note has just come. Mother did not sleep at all last night & of
6course I did not leave her or lie down, not because of any new
7definite pain, but because of her unreadable terrible general unrest
8mental & physical That state she was in when you left has continued to
9increase & produces even greater difficulty with hospital nurses &
10complete stranger than the old convent folk or private nurses but the
11nurses are very good & sweet & do all they can to help her.
12
13 Dear one no words can tell how I long for you, & yet what a relief it
14is to me that for a few days the strain, the unutterable strain under
15which you have been living has been lifted from you. You can’t bear
16much more.
17
18 Good bye my sweet heart.
19 Your little Ollie.
20
21 Love to the children I long to know how Elberty is. Mother’s
22condition is not worse; yet the more I understand it the more heart
23breaking it is.
24
25 ^Shall I tell her if she asks that you are coming on Monday or Tuesday^
26
27
28

1 Hanover
2 Friday
3
4 Darling Effie
5
6 I know mother is much to busy to write so drop me a line to tell me
7how Granny is. Did you all get the letters I posted the day I left
8Grahamstown, a little station on the way. I find l left my new nail
9cissors in Grahamstown but have got two new pairs of large ones. One
10must be yours or Aunt Hets, unless the man put me in a pair of large
11cissors in mistake for nail cissors at Parkes. Answer about this.
12
13 I am clearing out my little room today to be all bright & fresh when
14uncle Cron comes on Monday. I felt so anxious about Grannie last night
15in the night. Please tell me just how she is. Does she take more
16interest in out side matters.
17
18 Good bye dear, my love to you all including Arthur.
19 Your little Auntie Ol.
20
21 Thank Aunt Het for pay the money for me I’ll send it tomorrow.
22
23

1 Hanover
2 Sunday night
3 Sep 1st 1901
4
5 My darling old sister
6
7 I have had no news from Grahamstown since the note I got from you last
8Thursday morning morning. You must not write; unreadable I know the
9terrible strain writing is even to those one loves best in your
10over-worked state, but ask Effie or Elberty to send just two lines
11daily if they can (one or other, to let me know how mother is.
12
13 I have also not heard from Cron for some time, not since the letter I
14got on Thurs-day, but I fancy no letters have come through from Cape
15Town since. I am expecting my darling tomorrow morning by the post
16cart. I am making him a grand dinner with your lemon cheese-cake, &
17chutney & all the nice things I brought from Grahamstown, & I’ve
18made our little room look as pretty & nice as I can.
19
20 Ask Effie to tell me: -
21
22 1. If mother is more restful
23 2. If she takes more interest in out-side things.
24 3. If she seems stronger
25 4. If her cough is better.
26
27 I & Neta have been quite alone in this house for some days as the lady
28from whom I hire the room has gone to their farm, with her little
29nephew. But I have been so happy getting everything ready for my
30darling. Little Neta sends her love to you all: she had a bath this
31morning & is now as white as snow, & is sleeping on my bed.
32
33 I enclose a PO order for 10/- Please take from it the money you paid
34for me, & with the rest buy me when you come or when Arthur comes if
35he comes first 2/- worth of brown bakers bread, & two bottles of Mrs
36Rudd’s jam, one bottle of Cape gooseberry & one of orange marmalade
37the cost 1/3 each
38
39 2/6 jam
40 2/- bread
41 4/- Repay yourself
42 ------------------------
43 8/6 & one 1/6
44
45 for the carriage will make the 10/- You will have more than your full
46amount of luggage & have to pay extra for it. If you could send me a
47line two days yet before you leave I would ask the post cart driver to
48call at the station for it. If you were unreadable asleep passing in
49the night the guard would give it to the station master. Please
50address it personally to the care of the station master. I hope you
51will get a strong native man to help you in packing mother’s things
52so that you have no lifting to do. You must not quite wear yourself
53out my darling. If you would take care of self now you might have many
54years of usefulness & health, perhaps such health as you have never
55known. Give my love to my old Will.
56
57 Your little sis
58 Olive
59
60 I wouldn’t have missed that seeing you in Grahamstown, dear one, for
61anything. One looses many things as one grows older but one has a
62power of endurance one never had when one was young, ^& that makes up
63for many things, eh?^
64
65
66

1 Saturday
2
3 Dear Effie
4
5 I send with this the PO order I forgot to put in last time. Please
6write a line at once dear & tell me whether Aunt Het has come & what
7the plans are.
8
9 Love to you dear, & to Uncle Will. I hope he enjoyed his little change
10to the house.
11
12 Your little Auntie
13
14
15

1 Sep 6 / 01
2
3 Dear Effie
4
5 I was so glad of your note.
6
7 Just send me a line when able to let me know how mother goes on, & how
8you are feeling when alone there.
9
10 I shall think of you on Monday when you will be left alone.
11
12 Your little Auntie
13
14 Shall I send the scissors to you or to mother at Cape Town?
15

1Hanover
2 Friday night
3
4 Darling Effie,
5
6 I suppose mother leaves Cape Town tomorrow for Grahamstown & that the
7week after next if mother carries out her plan she will be passing
8here with Grannie.
9
10 Please write & tell me exactly the plans that I may try to arrange to
11meet you at Hanover Rd. the weather here is absolutely perfect & I am
12expecting great things for Grannie from the change to this high dry
13air, at this time of the year perfect I enclose a PO order for ten
14shillings: please dear when come bring me 10 boxes of Philippe de
15?Canands sardines 1/- a box. You remember I got some in the little
16green grocers shop where the nice woman was in Bathurst St, where we
17got the chillies & butter & other things. I think that is the only
18place in Grahamstown where they are to be got. Also please with regard
19to the other 10/ I sent. After paying Mrs Rudd the 4/3 there will be
205/9 over please buy me for it four bottles of Mrs Rudds homemade jam
21^at 1/3 a bottle^ (especially to of her orange marmalade) & for the 9d
22of a pound of her rusks. As & don’t get the brown bread I asked for
23as travelling so long it will be dry before you get here. A coolie has
24opened a shop so we are now able to get oranges here, but decent
25groceries are not to be had here. Please dear drop me a line & tell me
26just how the little mother is. I had such a sad dream about her the
27other night.
28
29 Love to my dear old Will. I hope you don’t find the staying alone in
30Grahamstown too hard, darling.
31
32 Your little Auntie
33 Olive
34
35 The james & things Aunt Het bought me were smashed fine in the post
36cart!!
37
38
39

1 Xmas Morning.
2
3 My darling old sister,
4
5 I hope you are feeling really better. It is so delightful to me that
6the dear little mother is sweetly resting in your care. "What we
7desire in youth, that we have in old age," Goethe said. I am sure it
8is true with regard to spiritual matters, because slowly the ideal
9which we strive after must shape itself within us but, I think it
10often happens with other things. At least it is my dream that it will
11so happen.
12
13 "Grow old along with me
14 The best is yet to be;
15 The last of life,
16 For which the whole was made.
17 Our times are in his hand,
18 Who so a whole I planned.
19 - Youth knows but half – trust God, see all, nor be afraid."
20
21 I have always looked forward to old age so because of the serene
22wisdom I thought one would have attained to, but I don’t think that
23I had realize the weakness that would come as one grew older. Of
24course you & I ought not to be as much weaker than we were at our age,
25but as Will once wrote me, all we Schreiners seem predestined to break
26down long before our time. This is of course owing to our hearts not
27being strong.
28
29 I have been studying my own case a good deal, & while absence of worry
30& excitement & worry is the main thing, as the doctors all agree where
31the heart is enlarged; yet I am sure to eat very little & practically
32no meat, & if possible to drink hot boiled milk, ^in small quantities
33at a time but often^ something which is very light & yet nourishing,
34does much to relieve the heart. I am sending you ?about which is
35attracting a good deal of attention in England. On uric-acid, the
36result of meat diet & its action on the system in later life, which
37might be interesting to you. I think he goes a little too far, but
38there is much truth in it. It seems a pity that few people can see a
39truth very clearly without exaggerating it.
40
41 I hope you got the little MS of mine safely. I wrote it fifteen years
42ago in Italy. I like it almost better than anything I ever wrote
43because it came to me in such a curious way. I wrote the novel to
44which it is the prelude years before, when I was Africa. I was sitting
45one day writing an article on the Bushman, & suddenly in an instant,
46all the scenes in that little prelude seemed to open themselves before
47me, one after the other in a flash, like when you open one of those
48folded series of views & draw them all open quickly. I saw the little
49girl at the back-door, & on her flat stone, & in the garden under the
50tree making storie & repeating poems right to the end, & curious, it
51was only when I sat down to write it out that I saw how it bore on the
52story that was coming & which I had written unreadable so long before.
53All my stories come to me that way I never consciously try to make one,
54 but none except Peter Halket ever came so completely & at once, they
55are sometimes only in bits for months before they are ready. With
56Peter Halket I was at the Kowie & had slept heavily all night from one
57o’clock, an unusual thing with me. About six o’clock I woke, &
58jumped out of bed Cron asked me what was the matter, & I said a whole
59new story had come to me just as I woke, & I told him all just as it
60stands but short. I had nothing further from my thoughts that the
61writing of such a book the night before & I was busy on my stray
62thoughts. I just as I opened my eyes saw Peter Halket on the kopje &
63heard the voices talking.
64
65 I think that’s the mistake people make who think you can make
66stories & poems. You can’t make them if they don’t make themselves.
67 You can put yourself into the conditions in which you know your mind
68will work spontaneously, i.e. free of worries & manual work, but you
69can’t say to your brain produce this or that. Of course you sh can
70will whether you will write it or not, but & the exact words you will
71put it into; but you can’t alter the pictures, if a man has blue
72eyes you can’t describe him with brown, is he says this or that you
73can’t make him say anything else.
74
75 //I have been thinking about Guy & can’t help being sure that if his
76tastes lay in a literary direction the civil service will be best for
77him; just because the work is so mechanical & uninteresting, it does
78not tax the energies you use for your own work, teaching if
79conscientiously done takes too much out of you, of nervous energy &
80will.
81
82 I wrote the whole of an African Farm when I was teaching 6 hours a-day,
83 but it’s a horrible strain. The civil-service work is very light.
84
85 Now I must end my darling. I know you will always wire to me if the
86little mother should be very ill, but I feel quite at ease about her
87now.
88
89 Have you ever thought how very nice it would be, if the dear little
90mother would consent to be buried at Balfour when she goes. I would
91not mention it to her unless she spoke of being buried some where else,
92 then you might suggest it, say you will be buried there too. Father
93would have liked it so.
94
95 Good bye darling.
96 Your little sis Olive
97
98 I sent mother that little prelude to read 10 years ago when I first
99came out from England. If she’s forgotten it & would care to read it
100again you might give it her, but I don’t want others to read it.
101
102

1 Hanover
2 July 6th 1902
3
4 Darling Ettie
5
6 I hope by this time you are safe in Johannesburg. I’m sure the change
7will do you good.
8
9 I’ve been in bed for a couple of days with my chest, & am very
10thankful I didn’t get the pass in time & & try to come up with you
11because I would only have been ill & spoiled all. I hope I shall be
12able to go by the end of the month. If you could give me the address I
13could go up & see abut the jacket of the dress as soon as I get there.
14
15 I shall only be in Johannesburg for a few days, just long enough to
16see about my things. I hope Elberty is not going to stay up there. I
17think it would be a mistake, dear. But perhaps you have no such plan.
18I have seen such beautiful promising lives go to wreck there, that I
19feel about it as a man would about a rock on which he had seen a ship
20go down. You don’t understand the place a bit by visiting it; you must
21stay in it & watch its effect on characters you know.
22
23 I shall value the dressing gown so much when it comes, dear; but you
24oughtn’t to have sent it me. I’m so glad you’ve got another.
25
26 Good bye, darling. I suppose you passed Hanover Rd the night before
27last
28
29 Olive
30

1Private for yourself alone
2 Hanover
3 Sep 15th 1902
4
5 My darling old Ettie
6
7 Oh I have thought of you & hungered for you during the weeks of ?Eny
8weakness & darkness. I think I have never longed so for any one. I
9think I would have sent for you & sent you money to come, but I had a
10feeling it wasn’t the end, & I couldn’t take you not only from
11your heavy duties, but from duties which would be harder to you when
12returned because they they would have accumulated. I am now able to
13move abut again, but am quite deaf in one ear & partly so in the other.
14
15 I am leaving this house as son as I am strong enough to move the
16things because it is very damp.
17
18 Cron left for Cape Town ^the day before^ yesterday, & will be there for
19a few days to visit his mother & attend his brother’s wedding.
20Don’t mention to mother that he is in Town as she might expect him
21to call, & I don’t think he will.
22
23 Dear, that letter you wrote me which I got the night before I left
24Johannesburg was very precious to me. Perhaps it happens more often
25than we dream that the love we have hungered for all our lives & which
26has never been given us will stretch out longing hands to us after we
27are dead. We shall not know it but the thought can help one to live.
28
29 Good bye, my darling. I hope you are feeling stronger. Perhaps it is
30as well you were not with me when I was so ill. In such times of
31weakness
32
33^one feels such an irresistible desire to open ones heart to one who
34would understand, & perhaps it is better that one should carry much
35silent to ones grave.
36
37 Good bye my dear one
38 Olive^
39
40
41

1 Hanover
2 Sep 30 / 02
3
4 My own darling little Mother
5
6 We are in our nice little house. C It is evening, about 9 o’clock.
7Cron is sitting in the little dining room writing out a will, & I am
8in my bedroom at the little table in the corner, & the family are
9asleep, ‘Arriet has been very wicked today. First early this morning
10she turned the bottle of milk over in the passage & was lapping at it
11continuously & walking about in the streaming milk on the floor. I
12rescued the other bottle & took it & boiled it; hot, & put the jug in
13the pantry window. Not long after there was a noise, & I went to the
14pantry, & there she had turned the jug over & was standing in the milk
15licking her paws clean from the cream. She always creeps up onto
16Cron’s knee at meal times, & puts her nose into his plate & licks
17little bits of food out, as she fancies them. I say her mouth is dirty,
18 but Cron sticks to it it is clean!
19
20 I like this this little tiny house so much. I suppose because it’s
21so open & airy. The wind blows through it all day.
22
23 I will write & let you know in good time when I am coming. It would be
24nice if I could be there for your birth-day the 25th is it not? I
25wouldn’t spend all that day with you at the Highlands as you will
26have so many other visitors but if I arrived that day I’d just hire
27a cab at the station & the run up & have one look at my darling little
28mothers face on her birthday, & then come up the next day to stay long.
29
30 Good night my own sweet little mother
31 Your Olive
32
33 I think of you so continually my little mother; of late you seem
34always in my mind, especially in the night when I lie awake.
35
36

1 Hanover
2 Dec 31st 1902
3
4 Darling,
5
6 I am sending you the money for the wire to Mrs Austin. Thank you so
7much.
8
9 Please ask John to let me know me know as soon as his plans are sure
10as to the time he leaves for Kimberley. Dear, I wonder if it is wicked;
11 but it seems so beautiful to me to think that perhaps this time next
12year I mayn’t be here. It come to me like such an exquisitely lovely
13thought. And yet I may have many years to go on still. One is
14satisfied if it is so; life is beautiful too. But death is more so.
15
16 I’ve been thinking a lot about Alice lately. You know its funny but I
17think now I understand her life as no one understood it; I put little
18things together & I understand it. Such a curious thing happened: you
19know not long before she died. (I cannot now say how long, but it must
20only have been a few very few months, because I was living in the same
21boarding house in London where I got that letter as w I was when I
22heard of her death, & I only lived there three months altogether), it
23I got a letter from her it was the last she ever wrote me.
24
25 I fancy it was just before you got to Fraserburg. I had write her a
26rather sympathetic letter about the death of all her children. I
27seldom wrote to her I don’t think I’d written to her for two years,
28but something made me write; & she wrote me back such a curious letter,
29 it was so unlike her, you who know she always wrote such little
30matter of fact letters about the children &c.
31
32 It was such a strange passionate out cry: "Oh Olive Olive, it is n’t
33the death of my little children that matters. My heart is broken but
34it’s not that that has done it. People sympathize with you & are sorry;
35 but its not the things they think if that have killed you." It was
36those words or all but those words, & then a few weeks afterwards I
37heard she was dead. I hope that letter of hers
38
39[page/s missing]
40
41

1 Hanover
2 Saturday
3
4 My own darling
5
6 I wonder how your teeth are. If only you were living somewhere near me,
7 so that I could see you if it were only once a month life would be so
8different to me.
9
10 I wonder how things are shaping them selves about Elberty. If the man
11he was with speaks well of his work, I should certainly write to
12Newberry abut him as he will have the help no where else he will have
13there. I am very anxious to hear he is really settled in there.
14
15 Good bye my darling
16 Your Olive
17
18 Love to the little mother. Tell Effie I have her wedding card. I feel
19so tenderly anxious over those two young souls. But I think they have
20much larger chances of happiness than most have who start on that long
21voyage together.
22
23 ^Don’t you think the dentist is a very nice man?^
24
25
26

1 My own darling
2
3 I have just got your letter. Is the name of the people Smyth? Oh my
4darling I know what that tiredness is. There are long what it is when
5we desire only death. Oh that beautiful rest, dear one. It is so
6beautiful that death which in the time of ones strength & youth one
7instinctively drew back from because it was so cold, should come at
8last as the mighty comforter.
9
10 When all courage fails me & my knees give I think of that quiet
11mountain top at Krantz Plaats where I shall rest at last with my
12little baby beside me.
13
14 I long so to see you. I wonder whether it would not be possible for
15you to come & rest here for a few weeks.
16
17 Oh darling I am so lonely, so lonely, Ettie; it would be such joy to
18me to see you. There are only two things in earth I have still any
19wish for to see unreadable again & Father’s grave at Balfour.
20
21 ^Good bye my darling.
22 Your little Emmie
23
24 Give my love to dear old Theo. No one can understand that I can’t
25write letters any more. I can just struggle through my daily toil.^
26
27
28

1 New Years Day
2 1903
3
4 Dear Arthur
5
6 This is just one word to speak that loving welcome to you as a member
7of the family, which I would speak with my lips if I could have been
8with you next Monday. I have been very much drawn to you from the
9little I have seen of you, & I send you from my heart a loving
10greeting. May your life together be a very brave & good thing to you
11both.
12
13 Your very loving Aunt
14 Olive Schreiner
15

1 Hanover
2 March 10 / 03
3
4 My darling old Sister
5
6 I am feeling a little anxious about your knee. Is it quite well.
7Don’t try it till it is really strong. It would be so terribly
8depressing to have anything which permanently hindered one’s walking.
9
10 It’s curious I remember quite well in England when you came from
11Australia that incident of your writing to the person & their saying
12for certain reasons it impossible for them to give you their name &
13see you. I am feeling a bit better; & happier than I have felt since
14the dear peaceful old Matjesfontein days. They say people never know
15when they are happy, but I always knew at Matjesfontein that I was
16happy, & wished nothing would ever change. After all, it isn’t what
17we have, but what we are able to do without, that’s the great thing.
18
19 I don’t know why I feel anxious about you & as if I wanted to know
20you were all right.
21
22 Good night dear one.
23 Olive
24
25 ^Cron is still up in Johannesburg but returns on Thursday^
26
27

1 Hanover
2 May 17th 1903
3
4 My darling Mothie
5
6 I have returned pretty tired from Grahamstown. I was there six days. I
7saw dear Notre Mere. She cannot now walk about, has to to be taken
8about in a chair, but her face is quite unchanged; her he eyes are as
9clear & bright as ever.
10
11 I have just had a letter for Mrs David de Wet (Minnie Barnett) she
12sends much love to you, & says she hopes so much she will some day
13have the chance of coming to see you at Cape Town she says all the
14brothers & sisters are now dead except herself & Cobie; who is living
15at Kruger’s-dorp. She (Cobie) has had to bring up & educate her
16large family by keeping a boarding house.
17
18 I also saw in Grahamstown your old friend Mr Cross. He came to see me,
19& sent most affectionate greetings to you He was the only person who
20came to see me while I was there.
21
22 Cron is still very ill. The rheumatism is in his hip now, & for two
23days he has been unable to move unless I moved him. He was much better
24but has got worse again. I am giving him a warm bath tonight & hope he
25will be better tomorrow
26
27 How is my own darling little mothie? I am feeling so anxious about you
28dear little mother with the cold of the winter which may increase all
29your pains but sometimes the winters in Cape Town are very much milder
30& drier & I hope this is going to be a dry winter for you. The family
31are well & sweet. I am going to Beaufort West for the winter. I shall
32stay in the town at first & try to find a farm near by later. I
33don’t want to go to any where where I can’t get wires at any time.
34
35 My own darling little mother I am thinking of you so much
36
37 Your Olive
38
39

1 Hanover
2 Je 23 / 03
3
4 My darling
5
6 Thankyou for your beautiful letter.
7
8 As to mothers trap; they may not be in Cape Town because people do not
9use them there but they are to be had by hundreds ^NB Why not send to
10some of the carriage builders in London for their catalogues? telling
11them what you want? There is a cheap & very good one in Covent Garden
12from whom I got my trap. I have a friend in London Mrs Arthur Wilson
13who understands all about carts & horse & all that sort of thing. They
14are very wealthy people, but she would quite understand if we wanted a
15cheap thing & yet strong how to choose it. if any time you would like
16me to write to her about the trap I will Oh I wish I could afford to
17buy one for mother. It would be better if you could get something in
18Cape Town^ in every carriage shop in London in all styles from £20 up
19to £150 or £200!! They are always used in the country in England When
20I was there I nearly bought myself a little governess carriage as they
21call them all basket work but with very strong wheels &c for £14! Only
22I don’t like the sitting sided side ways as you always do in governess
23carriages. (They are called governess carriages because people always
24have them for the governess & children in England). Lady Lochs girls
25had a charming little one with a very comfortable seat all of the
26basket work strong & light, & in which you sat facing the horses She
27gave £12 for it! Such things are much stronger for bad roads than
28great heavy things. B because having no rigid body they don’t strain
29so. With a quiet old horse in a trap like that mother & you could go
30about anywhere
31
32 As to the trip in July: it will be simply splendid. I can’t stay long
33in Kat River on account of the asthma, but we couldn’t stay very long
34any how on account of the expense of the cart & horses. It will be too
35lovely if we three can manage it. You It will be something to look
36forward to all the time. We must take a Kodak with us & take views of
37all the spots at Healdtown & Balfour. Pleas
38
39 About the typing. I have only a very little bit ready would take a
40good typist about one day or less, & I copy out so slowly that it may
41be months before I have any more (I may never ever finish the book at
42all!) Otherwise if it were all done it would be a splendid plan to get
43Hettie to do. I have a splendid typewriter of my own & could do it
44myself but it hurts my chest so.
45
46 Give much love to the little mother. I am much better than I was. It
47may be partly owing to the great drought & the perfectly dry air up
48here now.
49
50Your Olive
51

1 Uitkyk
2
3 My darling Effie
4
5 I’m so sorry I didn’t see you to say good bye. You are often in my
6thoughts. If your little one comes to us safely it will be a great
7treasure to us all. Now Uncle Will’s children are growing up I seem to
8long so for little children in the family. Take plenty of exercise
9only be careful to to walk up hill if you can help it. Love to Arthur.
10It’s so beautiful you are
11
12 ^so happy dear
13
14 Your little aunt Olive^
15
16
17

1 P.O. Uitkyk
2 Aug 6 / 03
3
4 My darling old Ettie
5
6 Tomorrow will be your birthday. I shall think of you. I felt the first
7day I came to see mother when you & Effie were in the back room as if
8something was troubling you very much. Your life is so full of cares &
9sorrows which you must bear quite alone.
10
11 The little mother looks just wonderful to me dear, so free from all
12that swelling about the face & eyes. I cannot help feeling that she is
13very much freer from suffering that she used to be, though as you say,
14in a way, weaker.
15
16 I’m so glad dear Will spoke to me about your care for mother in the
17way he did. It’s so beautiful to me to know that we all realize, not
18alone what you are doing for the little mother but for all of us in
19taking care of her. Please send me John’s address, I’ve forgotten
20it. Good bye my darling. You seem to me to grow
21
22^more & more beautiful as you grow older.^
23
24Your little sis Olive

1 From Olive
2 To Lewis
3 Highlands
4 Gardens
5 Cape Town
6
7 Except wire of last Friday have heard nothing from you and Will
8letters must have miscarried
9
10
11

1 Hanover
2 Friday
3
4 My darling Ettie
5
6 I sent you a wire this morning telling you I had had no news from you
7or Will or any one in Cape Town since the wire I got from you & Will
8^sent^ on Friday afternoon a week ago today & which I received on
9Saturday morning. I would have left at once had in reached me on
10Friday night I unreadable ^would^ then have left by the Friday nights
11train & have reached Cape Town on Sunday morning As it was I could
12only start on Saturday night reaching Cape Town on Monday too late. I
13know darling, that you could not wait otherwise you would have waited
14till I came.
15
16 I told them to send all letters to me at Bloemfontein, & as
17Bloemfontein is only 9 hours from this the letters that came here on
18Monday morning would have been sent on to me & I would have got them
19on Tuesday in Bloemfontein. The Tuesday post came & no letter or wire.
20The Wednesday post the Thursdays post! The late Thursdays post brought
21me a letter card which showed everyday you had written as it contains
22no news, only mentioned that it was too dark at Maitland & were going
23the next morning, I suppose to have a photograph taken. I got back
24here this morning early, & asked at the office whether letters had
25come. They said, yes, on Monday & Tuesday & had been sent on at once
26to Bloemfontein. I have of course written & wired at once but I doubt
27whether I shall ever get them. I got no letters while there a note
28Cron wrote me from Pretoria was also not delivered though it contained
29only a word saying ye when he was coming to Bloemfontein. Perhaps if
30you know any high official there, or the postmaster general & you
31wrote asking that they might be returned to me they might be. I have
32looked at all the papers I could get, but have seen nothing telling me
33whether she died suddenly, or had been ill, nor even mentioned the
34funeral; & to feel sure you had written made it harder to wait from
35post to post.
36
37 Good bye my darling. ^Did you get my letter^
38 Olive
39
40 ^I think if you wrote to the Administrator in Bloemfontein & asked him
41to see you your letters were returned he he would give orders to the
42postmaster or censor. Send this to Will, as he may have written to me.^
43
44
45

1 Hanover
2 Sep 14th 1903
3 Monday night
4
5 My darling
6
7 I got today your note of Saturday today dear. I can’t make out from
8it dear if either you or Will found time to drop me a line on Friday
9^the^ 4th Saturday the 5th or Sunday the 6th. In any case I have not got
10the lines & am not likely ever to get them as all letter coming for me
11from the colony were not allowed to reach me in the Free State. The
12post master here says he redirected several to me that arrived here on
13Monday & must have been posted on Friday the 4th or Saturday the 5th
14in Cape Town.
15
16 If none of you found time to drop me a line I shall quite understand
17it, my darling. For me I feel stupefied & can’t write to any one.
18Don’t try to write me a long letter darling just answer the
19following questions
20
21 1) Was Mother’s death quite sudden, or had she been worse for some
22days?
23
24 2) Was any one with her & who, at the last moment?
25
26 3) Was it a cold or influenza or simply the heart failing?
27
28 4) Did she know at all she was dying?
29
30 5) Did she suffer much?
31
32 6) Was she buried on ^Sunday^ Saturday, as you stated she would be in
33the wire from you & Will?
34
35 7) Were only the family at the funeral, & was it Catholic or
36Protestant?
37
38 Just answer these few questions shortly dear. It is eleven days since
39she died, & yet except that wire of two lines ^which I got on Saturday
40morning^ & your notes about unreadable the photograph I know nothing. I
41know how hard it is to write dear, but perhaps if you can’t Arthur
42Brown would just a few lines in answer to my 7 questions. The
43photographs will be very very precious to me.
44
45 Good bye, my darling.
46 Your little sister
47 Olive
48
49 If any of you wrote me a line on Friday ^4th^ or Saturday the 5th or
50Sunday the 6th please write to the Authorities at Bloemfontein I have
51written & the post master here has written but they have taken no
52notice of my letters. Possibly the censor has destroyed them, but they
53might mention having done so Both photographs will be very very
54precious to me.
55
56 Olive
57
58 I should have come down to Cape Town on Saturday, though I knew I
59should be to late, but I couldn’t afford it; of course I should have
60come whatever it had cost me if I could have seen her face. I can’t
61help thinking it must have come very suddenly at the end because if
62you had been expecting it you would have let me know I know.
63
64 I wonder what time in the afternoon mother died: so many times, even
65as long ago as at ?Willebury & as lately as at Seymour she has said
66about four in the afternoon or five, "Oh this is the time I know I
67shall die. I always have such a strange sad feeling at this time."
68
69

1 Thursday night
2
3 My darling Ettie,
4
5 Thank you for your letter. I haven’t written before because my heart
6seems to get so bad if I try to write to any one. I can get through my
7house work better.
8
9 I hope you got my wire & letter card all right. If you will let me
10know when Wynnie is passing I shall try to be there to meet her & get
11the photographs myself. But I shall have to know some time before as
12one can’t raise a cart & horses for hire in a minute here. I am so
13grateful you had the photos taken. It is strange that on the 2nd of
14September I was thinking that I would send down the money to ask you
15to have a photographer up take one especially for me.
16
17 I shall try to come down dear, next month October, or early in
18November. I should like to see the old room just once as it all was.
19Could you keep it so long. I think your plan about the things is very
20good, we can see about that when I come. Any of the old things I took
21would come back to the grand children Effie & Wyn & Dot or Ursula
22because I have no one else to leave them to. There is one thing if I
23would like to have if Will will let me ^have it.^ A photograph of Will,
24a very good one taken either in Kimberley or Town; it hung in
25mother’s little room. I have no photo of Will’s taken during the
26last 12 years & I should like to have it so much. I can’t write
27about the other old things to night. You might ask Will about the
28photograph before he gives it away to some one else, if you see him. I
29wish you could have some real rest & change, dear one. I suppose you
30will not care really to leave the Highlands before all is over & right
31with our little Effie. When that is over you should go away for a real
32complete change.
33
34 I am better, I have very little pain, I might almost say none, less
35than I have had for years. But I feel so weak, it feels like tiredness,
36 but no eating & no sleeping makes it any less. I would like to try &
37come down next month. My poor old husband ^is having a great deal of
38trouble here^. The man who managed his business here has mismanaged it
39terribly & I don’t want to leave him just now while he’s so
40worried & seems to cling to me (this about the business is private of
41course)
42
43 How is Guy’s health dear one & how is Elberty? I think it would be
44nice if you went up for a few weeks to John’s farm. Dear old John, I
45don’t like him being away up there so far from us all. I am always
46afraid of his getting ill & dying almost alone not liking to send for
47any of us - & we are all he has.
48
49 I’m so glad I came to Cape Town when I did. I was out walking alone
50that Friday evening, & I’d no intention of going to Cape Town, in
51fact there were many reasons why I didn’t want to go, & I’d only
52been out of bed for two days, & such a feeling came over me that I
53must go, & go the next Sunday. Miss Molteno & Miss Greene were so
54surprised when I came home to hear of my sudden resolve, & now I feel
55it was so right, I am so glad I went. You know Ettie why I knew she
56couldn’t live long, the swelling had gone out of the face & it was
57so small & bright again & the eye so clear. She looked like she used
58to years & years ago. I’m so glad Cron went.
59
60 Good bye dear one
61 Olive
62