The documents sent out to General Botha, and referred to in Chapter XV, were
connected with the report of the Consuls, but the very first thing sent to
the commandos by Mrs. van Warmelo was a copy of the first petition, tightly
packed in a walnut, one of a handful which she gave the spy, with
instructions not to eat any of them on the road.
He
also took a verbal message to the effect that though the condition of the
Camps was bad, everything was being done in town to bring about the
necessary improvements. Influential people were at work to make everything
public in Europe, and the men in the field were urged to be brave and
steadfast and of good cheer.
On
July 29th Harmony was visited again by Mr. Willem Botha, bringing with him
information of a disquieting nature.
In
some mysterious way he had received a piece of paper from Mr. Gordon Fraser,
brother-in-law to President Steyn, and prisoner of war in the Rest Camp in
Pretoria, on which, in a disguised hand, was written a message imploring the
Secret Service men to warn President Steyn and General de Wet that a certain
man amongst them, a prominent official, was a traitor in their midst, paid
by the enemy to betray their plans before they could be carried out.
This information made the conspirators very anxious, for it being full moon,
there was no prospect of spies coming into town, and in the meantime
incalculable mischief could be done. Neither was it possible to send any one
out who had not been before and was ignorant of the route. The matter had
therefore to be left until the next suitable opportunity came and Mr. Botha
went home with a heavy heart.
Unlike his usual prudent self, Mr. Botha did not immediately destroy the
slip of paper on which the warning was written, but folded it carefully and
placed it between the tattered leaves of an old hymn-book.
How he paid for this small indiscretion, the only one of which he was
guilty, with days of anxiety and despair, and very nearly with his life, we
shall see as our story develops!
In
the early days of August the troops encamped around Harmony could, if they
had used their sixth sense, have divined an air of suppressed excitement
about the place.
Expectation of some sort evidently charged the atmosphere. Visitors were, in
fact, expected, for Captain Naudé and his secretary had arranged to come in
for the report of the Consul, just before the new moon made its appearance,
and now a faint crescent of silver in the heavens warned our heroines that
their time was at hand.
Harmony had been chosen as a place of refuge, as the safest spot in all
Pretoria, with so many troops around it!
For several nights in succession a fire was kept going in the kitchen until
a late hour, and a plentiful supply of hot water kept in readiness for the
warm baths which the visitors would so sorely need after their difficult and
perilous journey.
Still they did not come, but on the morning of August 4th Mr. Botha paid an
early visit, bringing with him the news that on the previous night five
spies had reached the town in safety.
He
did not tell where they were being harboured, it being one of the laws of
the Secret Committee that names were not to be used needlessly, and that the
people working for the Committee were not even to know about one another.
So
rigorously was this law enforced that from beginning to end the van Warmelos
had dealings with Mr. Botha only, and did not see the four other members of
the Committee, nor even hear their names until——
The five spies had not come in as easily as usual. They had persistently
been followed by the searchlights as they neared the town, but they were
able to get through the barbed-wire enclosure in safety and had then
separated and gone to their various homes, unobserved as they thought.
But one of them, a young man whom we shall call Harry, who was destined to
play such a terrible part in the history of the Boer Secret Service, was
followed home by three detectives, two of whom stationed themselves at the
front door and the third at the back.
Fortunately when Harry became aware of his danger, he rushed out at the
back.
The detective, whose name was Moodie, shouted, "Hands up, or I fire," but
the young man drew his revolver with lightning-like rapidity and, firing
twice, escaped from town under cover of the darkness.
The reported death of the detective caused a great sensation in the town
next day, and it was not until many months after that we learned of the fate
of the unfortunate man, not death, but mutilation worse than death—a ghastly
wound below the heart and an amputated leg.
This event caused the British to enforce a stricter vigilance, and many
houses were searched for the other spies, but without success.
The excitement in town did not abate for some time, and wherever Hansie went
she was told what had taken place by people who would have been surprised
indeed to hear that she was in possession of all the details, and even of
documents brought in from General Kemp by those very spies.
The instructions were to see that the information contained in those
documents reached the Consuls without their knowing how and when they had
been brought into town, and for this purpose several copies had been typed
and were slipped under the doors of the different Consulates while the
inmates were asleep.
Any day between August 5th and 10th Captain Naudé said he would come, and
each evening found Harmony prepared to receive him, but on the 9th Mr. Botha
brought a note from the gallant Captain saying that he would be unable to
partake of Mrs. van Warmelo's hospitality that month. A woman, whose name
was unknown, had conveyed this letter to the Secret Committee. It contained
no particular news except that August 8th had been celebrated as a day of
thanksgiving for our victories, and the 9th, the very day on which the
intimation was received in town, would be a day of humiliation for our many
sins.
When this became known to the "inner circle," private prayer-meetings were
immediately held in different houses in the town, while the men in the field
held their day of humiliation under the open sky. In this way we worked
together and supported one another spiritually, morally, and practically, in
spite of searchlights and barbed-wire fences.
This was the first news received of the Captain's safe return to the
commandos after that eventful visit in July, and his friends were thankful
to receive it. Another source of thankfulness was the fact that he was not
coming in that month, for the enemy was on the qui vive for more spies, and
consequently the dangers were multiplying for the Boers. The reckless coming
in and going out of irresponsible men became a source of real danger to the
people who harboured them, and on August 12th Mr. Botha came again to warn
Mrs. van Warmelo against having dealings with any spies except those sent by
the Secret Committee.
"You will only find yourselves in jail or over the border," he said, "which
would not be so bad if that were all, but it would ruin our chances of
assisting the Generals."
He
then reported that a young spy had come in on Saturday night and that he had
been taken to Mrs. General Joubert's house the next morning while she was in
church. The good lady was anything but pleased, on her return home, to find
him there, for she had a houseful of people, and she was obliged to stow him
into a tiny room, where he sat as still as a mouse, until he went back to
commando. Not very cheerful for him, but a good lesson for the future!
Five or six men who tried to escape from town were captured near the
Magaliesbergen and placed in the Rest Camp, so Dame Rumour said at the time,
but the truth of the story, briefly related, ran thus:
I
have mentioned the nest of the spies in the Skurvebergen not far from
Pretoria in the western direction.
This "nest" had been surprised and taken possession of by the English while
five of the spies were in Pretoria, and they, cut off from their own people
as they were, were unable to escape.
One or two attempts were made, but the men were fired on and they had to
abandon the idea for the present.
The curious part of this story is that these men (one can hardly call them
spies) were Pretoria men who had escaped to the Skurvebergen for the first
time only three weeks previously, and had gone backwards and forwards
several times with small necessaries. One of the five, a man whose name I
cannot mention here, for the sake of what is to follow, had been so often,
and was so much at home both in Pretoria and the Skurvebergen, that his
dearest friends did not know to which part of the country he really
belonged!
Well, he was in a nice predicament now!
The house in which he was being harboured, with one of his friends, was
unfortunately suspect. He could not remain there, neither could he escape
from town.
Some one came to Harmony in great distress. What was to be done with those
two men? To what place of refuge could they be moved that night? The visitor
looked imploringly at Mrs. van Warmelo as if he expected her to offer
Harmony, but she, mindful of Mr. Botha's warning, did nothing of the kind.
"Death is staring them in the face," the visitor continued. "I don't know
what to do!"
Hansie, who knew the visitor well and trusted him implicitly, then pleaded
with her mother—to no avail, Mrs. van Warmelo remaining firmly obdurate, and
saying distinctly, for the edification of her visitor, "I have never
harboured a spy, and I hope I never shall."
When the good man had departed, in sore disappointment, Hansie grumbled a
good deal and said it was all very fine to assist these Secret Service men
when there was no danger in doing so, but her mother took no notice of her
for the rest of the day, and subsequent events proved that she had acted
wisely in refusing to harbour men unknown to her.
What became of them at the time she did not know, and a few weeks elapsed
before the crushing sequel to this escapade became known.
