It
was in the winter of 1901, while Hansie was at the Irene Concentration Camp,
as one of six volunteer nurses from Pretoria, that Mrs. van Warmelo began
her first adventures with the spies, and it has always been a source of keen
regret to Hansie that she was not in Pretoria at the time. But one cannot
have everything, and the knowledge she gained in the Camp was more valuable
to her than any other experience she went through during the war.
I
have merely touched on the Concentration Camps in the previous chapter, for
obvious reasons, and propose to entirely omit the events of the two months
Hansie spent in the Irene Camp.
As
the six volunteer nurses were soon after expelled from the Camp by the
military authorities, there was, fortunately for her, no opportunity of
returning to her labour of love. Other duties awaited her at home, however,
and by degrees she came into full possession of the facts connected with her
mother's experiences during those months.
Amongst the men caught in Pretoria on June 5th, 1900, when the British first
entered the capital, were two heroes of this book, Mr. J. Naudé and W.J.
Botha.
These men were destined, through their indecision in allowing themselves to
be caught like rats in a trap, to fulfil with honour a rôle of great
importance in the history of the war—a rôle unknown to the world, and
without which this book would probably not have been written. Mr. Naudé—who,
by the way, was well known in town as beadle of the Dutch Reformed Church on
Church Square immediately opposite the Government Buildings—had, after the
first few days of uncertainty and remorse, no intention whatever of
remaining long in durance vile.
With a few comrades in the same predicament as himself, amongst whom were
Willem Botha and G. Els, he laid his plans for a speedy escape, and for the
purpose of spying more effectually he used the tower of the sacred edifice
for which he was responsible, as a point of vantage not only suitable but
safe. With a strong telescope he took his observations, unobserved himself,
from the highest point of the tower, with the result that a certain route
was chosen as offering the best facilities for a safe exit from the town.
Mr. Botha should have accompanied him on this, his first enterprise; but
because of Mr. Botha's physical weakness, he having been struck by lightning
at Pieter's Heights while on commando, and being subject to severe headaches
and unable to walk far at times, it was decided that he should wait in town
until Mr. Naudé could come back from commando, bringing with him a horse for
the use of his friend. It was as well that Mr. Botha did not expose himself
to the hardships and perils of that first flight from the capital, for
though Mr. Naudé, wearing an English officer's uniform and carrying his
private clothes in a knapsack, escaped with the greatest ease and safety, he
and his companion roamed about the veld for three days and nights without
finding a trace of the Boer commandos which they were so eager to join.
They therefore ventured a return to their homes in Pretoria and accomplished
this successfully at dead of night, except for a small adventure through
having been delayed too long on their homeward journey, on account of which
they reached the first outpost just as day was breaking.
Naudé's companion, in great anxiety, suggested making a détour, but Mr.
Naudé, with the presence of mind which characterised his every action,
answered firmly:
"No; we must go straight ahead. Perhaps the watch has already caught a
glimpse of us, and any indecision on our part would be fatal."
Seeing some clothing hanging on a line to dry near a Kaffir or coolie hut,
Mr. Naudé annexed one or two garments, and, quickly changing his uniform for
the civilian clothes he had with him, he made a bundle of his knapsack,
uniform, and helmet, tying them up in the stolen articles. With this bundle
under his arm and a handkerchief tied over his head, he and his companion
lurched uncertainly over the veld towards the watch, after first having
taken a draught from their spirit-flask.
"Halt! who goes there?"
They halted, smiling at him in an imbecile manner.
"Show me your residential passes."
His comrade fumbled in his pockets and produced his, but Mr. Naudé fumbled
in vain. He had no pass.
He
shook his head. His smile became more inane. He muttered hoarsely:
"Can't find it. Must have lost it last night. We have been on the booze, old
man."
"I
can see that," the watch replied and signed to them to pass on.
That their reappearance caused a stir amongst their relatives and friends
can easily be understood, and it was found necessary to keep them in hiding.
The beadle had been missed from his post, and it was an open secret among
his friends and certainly not unknown to the enemy, that he had made a dash
for liberty. Under the circumstances he could not remain in Pretoria long,
and after a few days of more spying from the church tower he made a second
attempt in a different direction, with a comrade of the name of Coetzee, the
first man having had enough of the dangerous game. This time their
enterprise was crowned with success, and they were able to join a Boer
commando under General Louis Botha, but not before they had gone through an
adventure which might have cost them their lives.
They were captured by the Boers under Acting Commandant Badenhorst and
detained as British spies, all protestations of their innocence proving
futile, until Mr. Naudé informed the Commandant that he had with him
dispatches for General Botha.
Commandant Badenhorst demanded to see them.
He
refused, saying that they were private documents for the Commandant-General,
and that he was not at liberty to deliver them to any one else.
His word was accepted, and he was sent to the High Veld with a guard of men
on foot to escort him to the General.
The want of horses proved to be a serious drawback and hardship to these
men, so they determined to provide themselves with horses, of the very best,
and appointed Mr. Naudé as their leader.
Instead of proceeding straight to the High Veld, these enterprising and
resourceful young fellows retraced their steps to the vicinity of the
Pretoria West Station, where Mr. Naudé knew that the enemy kept a number of
magnificent horses for the use of officers only.
With infinite caution they approached the spot, keeping under cover until
they were well within rifle-range of the men on guard. The movements of the
latter were stealthily watched, and it was observed that the guard,
consisting of two men, well armed, walked up and down before the stables in
which the horses were kept. Meeting at a certain point, they turned abruptly
and retraced their steps in the opposite direction, until they reached the
limit of their beat and turned again.
Mr. Naudé's plans were quickly made, and his commands given below his
breath.
There was to be no bloodshed, he said. The thing could easily be done
without, if his instructions were well carried out.
Two of the men were ordered to level their guns at one of the guard when he
had nearly reached the point farthest from his comrade, while the others
stormed the stables.
It
was the work of a few moments.
The first thing the unfortunate guard knew was that he was looking straight
into the barrels of two guns.
Not a word was said on either side.
Those glittering rifles, held by unseen, steady hands, flashed the unspoken
challenge, "Give the alarm, and you are a dead man."
The guard stood still as if rooted to the spot.
Swiftly and silently Mr. Naudé, with his few men, approached and entered the
stables, cut loose the halters of the animals, and stampeded from the place.
And yet the guard stood still, transfixed by the unerring aim of those two
deadly implements.
A
moment more and every man was provided with a steed, another moment and they
tore across the veld in mad, exultant flight, while behind them the shots
rang out and the bullets fell beside them in the grass.
Eleven horses in all! Noble thoroughbreds, well trained and sensitive to
voice and touch.
No
fear of cruel treatment from your captors, beautiful steeds! The life you
are entering upon may be full of hardship for you, but it will be free and
wild, and you will be tended with all care and gentleness. These men are
brave and strong, and it is only the cowardly and weak who would inflict on
you one single unnecessary pain.
Serve your new masters well.
Be
swift and sure when Death is on their track.
God only knows what the future holds for them of suffering and woe.
Not on foot, but riding like lords, these men reached General Botha's force,
and the two men Naudé and Coetzee, being among the only burghers on commando
familiar with the route through the British lines, were thereafter employed
by minor officers to travel backwards and forwards to the capital. At first
their work consisted only of helping other burghers to escape, but as time
went on their duties became more complicated and hazardous. There were
countless commissions to fulfil and information to be obtained on every
imaginable question.
The need of a body of organised men in town began to be felt more strongly
in the field, and it was Captain Naudé who introduced the system of
employing a set of reliable burghers as spies in the heart of the enemy.
For this purpose he once again went to Pretoria with the list of names of
the men he wished to interview.
Mr. Botha was the first he approached, and the former was only half pleased
when he heard that, instead of the escape from British martial law, for
which he had been keeping himself in readiness so long, he was commanded to
remain in Pretoria as the head of a body of Secret Service men.
He
protested vehemently, but his objections were overruled by the argument
brought forward by Naudé, a consideration for the state of his health. This
was certainly a point which carried weight. He consented, and the names of
the other men to be appointed as his co-operators were submitted to him for
approval:
C.P. Hattingh, G. Els, W. Bosch, and J. Gillyland, a body of five men, which
we shall know in future by the name of "the Secret Committee."
The Secret Service of the Boers was now well established, and could not have
been entrusted into hands more capable, more undaunted, or more faithful.
Captain Naudé had in the meantime earned distinction for himself as the
bravest and most enterprising emissary employed in the field. He was placed
by General Botha at the head of a corps of scouts, including the men who had
captured the British remounts, and it is on the foundation of his adventures
as captain of this body of men that this story is built.
We
now turn to Mr. Botha and his first visit to Harmony.
It
seems that Mrs. van Warmelo was one morning, during her daughter's absence
at Irene, surprised by the appearance of a stranger at her house.
He
introduced himself as Mr. Willem Botha and handed a card to Mrs. van
Warmelo, the card of her friend Mrs. Pieter Maritz Botha, on which were
written the following words, "You may trust the bearer as you would myself."
No
other introduction was necessary.
Mrs. P.M. Botha, sister of Sir David Graaf, whose striking personality and
unique experiences throughout the war would alone fill a big book, was one
of Mrs. van Warmelo's dearest friends.
Any one coming from her to Harmony could depend upon a hearty welcome.
Mrs. van Warmelo looked at her visitor with her keen and searching eyes.
He
was short of stature and carried a little walking-stick for support, and his
eyes, when they looked into yours, were shrewd, humorous, and true as steel.
A
great little man he was, and is to-day, God bless him!
I
stretch out my hands to him across these pages and clasp his in the sympathy
and understanding of what we went through together. True as steel! Yes, that
describes him well, for in all his dealings he was a noble friend, an
honourable foe.
Fate had been hard on him in leaving him a helpless prisoner in the hands of
his enemies when his whole heart was with his brothers in the field, but
Providence was kind in giving him the power and opportunity he required for
serving land and people under circumstances as unique as they were dangerous
and difficult.
From him Mrs. van Warmelo learnt of the existence of the Secret Committee.
No
names were mentioned to her, but the general outline of their work was
described, and her assistance was invited in that branch of the work which
included the sending of dispatches to the President.
Her fame as an exceedingly clever "smuggler" had evidently spread, and if
the plan of the White Envelope had been known to her visitor at the time, he
would no doubt have been even more satisfied with the result of the visit.
That the Committee in Pretoria formed only a very small part of the scheme
of espionage all over South Africa I am well aware, but it is with this
particular Committee that we have to do, and a detailed account of the work
carried out by them will give the reader some idea of the system generally
employed by the Boers.
Not with the foolhardy young spy who came into the capital to buy a pound of
sweets or a box of cigarettes, not with the reckless youth who came in to
spend a few days with his friend and to escort his sweetheart to church on
Sunday night, thereby increasing the difficulties and danger of detection
for his more earnest fellow-countrymen, are we concerned in this book.
These escapades were of such frequent occurrence, and were so well known to
many people in town, that it would have been dangerous in the extreme to use
them for serious purposes.
From the earliest days of the occupation Pretoria was always full of spies,
and the English were aware of it, but, do what they would, they could not
prevent it.
Although we always knew how things were going in the field, I do not for a
moment believe that the accounts of British reverses brought unofficially in
to town by the spies were always reliable, nor do I sanction the reckless
coming and going of irresponsible men. Alas, no! too bitter have been the
experiences of disastrous results brought about by their thoughtlessness.
The van Warmelos were warned from the beginning against having dealings with
them if they really wished to be of service to their people, to which
warning they owed their safety and the privilege of being able to help their
countrymen till the end of the war. General Emmet, as prisoner in the Rest
Camp, also sent a warning, saying that General Botha had instructed him to
tell Mrs. van Warmelo that her name was known on commando.
As
time went on, Pretoria was being shut in more completely every day.
Blockhouses rose on every side; on the hills which lie around the town
searchlights played from commanding positions over many miles of country,
making darkest night as clear as noonday; barbed-wire fences enclosed the
entire capital, and outposts were on guard night and day—with no avail!
The spies glided in and out like serpents in the night, and some idea of the
hardships and perils they went through in order to achieve their purpose
will be given in this true story of the great Boer war, some idea of the
dangers to which their assistants in town were exposed, and the part played
by women and girls in the scheme of espionage.
I
believe the events related here to be tame in comparison with some of the
risks incurred and heroism displayed by other Boer women all over South
Africa, but we must confine ourselves strictly to Hansie's diary, as it was
written from day to day, before time could obliterate the smallest detail
from her memory.
Hansie's diary with all the bitterness left out; Hansie's diary without its
sighs and tears, its ever-changing moods, and deep emotions; Hansie's diary,
shorn of all that makes it human, natural, and real,—surely what is left of
it must be tame and totally unworthy of the original!
And yet it needs must be!
This book must be a calm, dispassionate review of the past, a temperate
recital of historical events as they took place, and, as facts speak largely
for themselves, I leave the details to be filled in by the reader's
imagination.
