Among other things, Mr. Willem Botha warned his friends at Harmony against
having a single incriminating document in the house.
"Detection means death for all concerned," he said one day, "but without
written evidence the worst the enemy can do is to send you out of the
country or to a Concentration Camp. Destroy every paper of a dangerous
nature you may have, as I have done, and then you need never feel anxious."
This wise counsel was all very well, but Hansie had a mania for
"collecting," and she could not make up her mind to destroy what might
become a valuable relic of the war.
She therefore had her diaries and white envelopes removed to some safe
hiding-place and began a new book for future use.
In
this book, in everyday pen and ink, she entered the ordinary events of the
day, but in another she wrote in lemon-juice her adventures with the spies
and all information of an incriminating character. Both books lay open on
her writing-table—the "White Diary," as she called it, with its clean and
spotless pages, with only here and there an almost invisible mark to show
how far she had got, and the misleading record in pen and ink to throw the
English off their guard in the event of an unexpected search of the house.
The white diary gave a sense of security and satisfaction at the thought of
the secrets it contained for future reference, and it was only after eight
years that portions of the writing became visible to the naked eye.
A
few hours' exposure to the sun's rays, and the application of a hot iron
here and there, made it sufficiently legible to be rewritten word for word,
and it is to the existence of this diary that we owe our accurate
information of what otherwise would have been lost for ever.
I
may add here that it was only the re-reading of the White Diary after so
many years, and the surprising amount of half-forgotten information Hansie
found in it, that suggested the idea to her mind of publishing its contents
in the form of a story.
It
was on the morning of July 17th, 1901, that Mr. Botha was seen coming up the
garden path between the rows of orange trees at Harmony, with his jauntiest
air, by which it was evident that he was the bearer of news from the front.
Briefly he informed our heroines that two spies had come in the previous
night and wished to see Mrs. van Warmelo about certain communications sent
out by her to General Botha a few weeks back. They were staying with Mrs.
Joubert, widow of the late Commandant-General P.J. Joubert, and were leaving
again the next night with dispatches.
In
the interview with them at 9 o'clock the next morning Hansie made her first
acquaintance with Captain Naudé, who plays the principal part in the story
here recorded, and whose courage and resource gave him an unquestioned
position of leadership.
Good reader, do you know what it means to be an unwilling captive in the
hands of your enemy for more than a year, and then to find yourself in the
presence of men, healthy, brown, and hearty, your own men, straight from the
glorious freedom of their life in the veld? Can you realise the sensation of
shaking hands with them for the first time and the atmosphere of wholesome
unrestraint and unconscious dignity which greeted you in their presence?
Well, I do, and it would be useless trying to tell any one what it is like,
for those who know will never forget, and those who don't will never
understand.
In
Mrs. Joubert's drawing-room they were waiting for their visitors next day,
Captain Naudé and his private secretary, Mr. Greyling—the former a tall,
fair man, slightly built and boyish-looking and with a noble, intelligent
face, the latter a mere youth, but evidently shrewd and brave.
The first eager questions naturally were for news of Fritz, the youngest of
the van Warmelos and the last remaining in the field since the capture of
his brother Dietlof in April of that year.
Mr. Greyling said that he had seen Fritz a few weeks back in perfect health
and in the best of spirits, but barefoot and in rags. His trousers were so
tattered that he might as well have been without, and Mr. Greyling had
provided him with another pair. With unkempt beard and long hair he seemed
to justify the jest about a "gorilla" war with which some of our enemies
amused themselves.
When the merriment occasioned by this description of the young warrior had
subsided, the conversation turned on more serious matters.
The Captain had with him a full report of the last conference held by the
generals, and a copy of the resolution passed by them and President Steyn, a
unanimous determination to stand together until their independence had been
secured. What the ultimate destination of these documents was I am not at
liberty to say, but copies of them were despatched, smuggled through in one
way or another to President Kruger.
Captain Naudé also brought greetings from General Botha and told Mrs. van
Warmelo how pleased the General had been with the news she had sent him on a
previous occasion.
In
order to explain the nature of the business which had brought the Captain
into Pretoria again, it will be necessary to turn our attention for a moment
to the matters referred to in the previous chapter in connection with which
he had once more risked the dangers of a visit to the capital.
"Yes," in answer to his inquiries, "the dynamite has arrived and is at
Delagoa Bay. A sample will be brought to this house to-day, with
instructions for mixing it."
This was glad news for the two men, and Hansie soon after took her leave,
promising to come back in the course of the morning with the dynamite.
Her manner was rather mysterious, and she took some unnecessary turns, to
make sure of not being followed, before she reached the house where the
dangerous article had been hidden. There a brown-paper parcel was handed to
her with a brief, "Read the instructions and destroy them," and she was left
alone in a quiet drawing-room.
On
opening the parcel she found a small bottle of yellowish powder, ostensibly
a remedy for colic, to be used in the way prescribed, and a pot of paste
purporting to be an excellent salve for chapped hands. The two, when mixed
together in a certain way, made up one pound of dynamite and had passed
safely through the hands of the inspector of goods on the frontier.
As
Hansie was cycling back to Mrs. Joubert's house with her precious parcel,
she had to pass the Military Governor's offices on Church Square, and the
thought occurred to her that this was a fitting opportunity to interview
General Maxwell regarding her tour of inspection to the Concentration Camps,
and at the same time to procure a permit for the Vocal Society to hold a
charity concert.
"Why not go in now?" she thought. "There is some fun in going to see the
Governor with one pound of dynamite in one's hands, and it would save me the
trouble of coming into town again. Another thing: if I am being watched or
followed, I am sure there can be nothing like a visit to Government
Buildings to disarm the most suspicious."
Arrived at the Governor's office, she noticed with some amusement that the
urchin at the door wrote on the card, under her name, "Nature of business:
permission to have a consort." (This was indeed to come later!)
The German Consul was engaged with General Maxwell and Hansie had a long
time to wait, and when at last she was shown in she found the affable
Governor in a very bad temper and his A.D.C., Major Hoskins, looking
anything but comfortable.
The former shook hands and greeted her with a curt, "Well, what is the
matter with you now?"
"That is very unkind of you, General," she said.
"Why?" he demanded.
"Oh, because it sounds as if I trouble you every day."
"Well," he answered, smiling slightly, "what can I do for you?"
"That's better, thank you," exclaimed Hansie cheerfully, and straightway
plunged into business.
With her mind dwelling on explosives and Secret Service men, she reminded
him of a promise he had given her soon after her return from the Irene Camp,
that she should visit all the Camps in the Transvaal and write reports for
him, to be sent to London if necessary, for publication in the Blue books.
"I
have come to arrange with you about my tour," she said.
"Yes," he answered. "I have thought about it and will give you the necessary
permits and every facility. You will travel at Government expense, and I
will do all I can to make your way easy, on one condition. You must promise
to give me a full and true report of things exactly as you find them."
Hansie was deeply touched by his confidence in her truth, which she knew was
not misplaced, and gladly gave the promise he asked from her.
"What you are undertaking," he continued, "will not only be difficult, but
dangerous. The accommodation in the Camps will probably be very bad, and
what would you think of a charge of dynamite under your train?"
Hansie glanced down at the parcel on her lap and said something about
thinking she would risk it.
The conversation was taking an unexpected turn, and she longed to get away,
but the Governor still had much to say to her.
"You can safely visit all the Camps except those in the north, in the
Zoutpansberg and Waterberg districts, and the one in Potchefstroom." ("Boers
ahead!" was Hansie's mental comment.) "And I don't think you ought to go
alone. Have you thought of any one who could accompany you?"
"Yes," Hansie replied. "A friend of mine, Mrs. Stiemens, who nursed with me
at Irene, would like to go with me. She is the right woman for such an
undertaking, strong and healthy and very cheerful."
This suggestion meeting with the Governor's approval, it was arranged that
they should visit the camp at Middelburg first, and while they were
preparing for the tour he would notify their visit to the various
commandants and arrange about the permits.
Permission to hold a concert was instantly granted, and she was on the point
of leaving, when he asked her whether she had heard of President Steyn's
narrow escape.
Yes, she had heard something, but would like to know more about it.
With evident enjoyment he proceeded to relate how the President had slept in
Reitz, a small, deserted village in the Free State, with twenty-seven men,
how they had stabled their horses and made themselves generally comfortable
for the night, how they were surrounded and surprised by the English, who
took all their horses before the alarm could be given, how the President
escaped on a small pony, which was standing unnoticed in the back yard, and
how all the other men were captured, General Cronjé (the second), General
Wessels, General Fraser, and many other well-known and prominent men. The
President must have fled in the open in nothing but a shirt, because all his
clothes and even his boots were left behind. In his pockets were many
valuable letters and documents.
Altogether this event must have given the English great joy, but I think
they forgot it in their chagrin at the President's escape, for when Hansie
openly rejoiced and blessed the "small unnoticed pony," expressing her great
admiration for the brave President, the Governor suddenly turned crusty
again and said he could not understand how any one could admire a man who
had been the ruin of his country.
"Poor old General!" Hansie mused as she cycled slowly up to Mrs. Joubert's
house, where the spies were waiting for her. "I have never known him so
quarrelsome and unkind. I wonder what it could have been! The German
Consul's visit or the President's escape? What a mercy that he knew nothing
of——" She cycled faster, suddenly remembering that it was late and there was
still much to do before the two men could begin their perilous journey that
night.
After she had handed the parcel over to them, with verbal instructions for
its use, she bade them good-bye and went home to lunch.
That evening Mrs. van Warmelo took important documents, of which we speak
later, and European newspaper cuttings to the Captain, with some money for
her tattered son, and a letter for him in a disguised hand. No names were
mentioned, and in the event of the spies falling into the hands of the
enemy, nothing found on them could have incriminated any one.
They were about to leave when she arrived at Mrs. Joubert's house.
Their preparations were conducted in perfect silence, except for an
occasional whispered command, while outside, guard was kept by an alert
figure, slender and upright, the figure of the aged hostess of the spies,
who, it is said, was never visible to the spies and never slept by day or
night as long as these men were being sheltered under her roof.
A
brave and dauntless woman she was, knowing no fear for herself, but filled
with concern for the fate of the men whose capture meant certain death, for
it was whispered in town that on the head of Koos Naudé, Captain of the
Secret Service, a price of £1,000 had been fixed.
The men left Pretoria that night for the "nest" of the spies in the
Skurvebergen, west from Pretoria, and from there they proceeded to where
they expected to find the Generals.
