A CONSULAR VISIT TO IRENE CAMP
The story of the petitions, related in the previous chapter, had, as I
have said before, taken place during the time of Hansie's sojourn at
Irene. She knew nothing about it at the time because, naturally, her
mother's letters contained no hint of the agitation with the Consuls
at Pretoria, and she was absorbed in her own "agitations" in the Camp,
her stormy interviews with the Commandant, her hopeless struggles
against disease and death.
If ever a Concentration Camp was mismanaged, Irene was, and the six
volunteer nurses, not being paid servants, but having taken up their
work for love and at no small sacrifice to themselves, left no stone
unturned to bring about the necessary improvements.
How futile their poor little efforts were! How powerless they found
themselves against the tide of wilful misunderstanding, deliberate
neglect, unpardonable mismanagement!
The number of deaths in the Camps increased every day, and Hansie,
wiping the hoar-frost from her hair when she woke, half-frozen, in her
tent, wondered how many of her little patients had been mercifully
released by death that night.
For always, when she resumed her work, there were _childish_ forms
stretched out in their last sleep.
One morning, when she found that there had been five deaths during the
night, in her ward alone, she took the train to Pretoria, straight to
General Maxwell's office.
"Come and see for yourself, General. The people are starving, and they
lie on the cold ground with little or no covering. Fuel they have
nothing to speak of, medical comforts are always out of stock----"
With a heavy frown he asked:
"Why are these things not reported to me?"
"I don't know," she answered miserably. "We thought you knew. We can
do nothing with the Commandant----"
A great deal more was said on both sides, revelations, not to be
repeated here, made by the unhappy girl, and the Governor's
sympathetic face grew stern with righteous indignation as she
proceeded.
"I will investigate the matter for myself," he said. "But you look
ill--why don't you come home and take a good rest?"
"I am only sick with misery, General; but if you will speak to the
Commandant and insist on better management in the Camp, we may still
be able to save a great many lives. There is no time to lose. If the
people are not provided with better food and warmer covering during
this intensely cold weather, the mortality will be something appalling
next month."
A few days later, one beautifully crisp and clear Sunday morning,
General Maxwell and his A.D.C., Major Hoskins, rode over to Irene to
pay the Camp a surprise visit--and a "surprise" it must have been
indeed, of no pleasant nature, to the Commandant, judging by his black
looks afterwards.
The General asked to see Miss van Warmelo and demanded to be shown
through her ward, inspected her worst cases, visited the overcrowded
tents. He seemed much impressed by the scenes he witnessed that day,
and issued orders to the effect that all complaints from her ward were
to be attended to promptly, and that a distribution of blankets and
warm clothing should be made immediately.
There were no blankets "in stock" the day before, but they were
produced on this occasion with remarkable alacrity.
The Governor inspected the foodstuffs and the small supply of medical
comforts (which was _always_, I may say here, kept in stock for
inspection, and was not touched for the use of the inmates of the
Camp, when the stores ran out).
On leaving, the Governor said to Hansie with marked emphasis:
"I shall be obliged if you will make your complaints _to me_ in
future."
Her ward was now in a somewhat better condition, and she was preparing
to leave for home for a month's rest and recreation.
Although there were never more than six volunteer nurses in the Camp
at a time, there were quite as many again in Pretoria, waiting to take
the place of those obliged to go home on sick leave, and one of them
was immediately sent to take charge of Hansie's ward.
Tragic were the parting scenes witnessed in that ward next day, and,
as Hansie laughingly extricated herself from the crowd, she promised
to come back "very soon," little thinking that she would be in their
midst again on the morrow.
The new nurse, an inexperienced girl, after having gone through the
ward once with Hansie, quietly fainted away.
"Shall I stay?" Hansie asked her, when she had recovered.
"Oh no; I must get used to it. But what must I do when the babies are
dying like that?"
"You must pray to God to take them quickly. Very little can be done to
save them. Report your worst cases to the doctor regularly every day;
then, at least, the responsibility does not rest on your shoulders."
It was terrible, leaving them all in such a state.
Arrived at Harmony, Hansie found a note from Mr. Cinatti asking her to
come over to the Consulate immediately, because Dr. Kendal Franks, who
was visiting Irene next day, wished to see her before he left.
She went at once, and found a dinner-party in progress at the
Consulate, the German Consul, Baron Ostmann, the Austrian Consul,
Baron Pitner and his wife, one of the directors of the Dynamite
Company, and Dr. Kendal Franks. She was shown into a private study,
where Mr. Cinatti joined her, in great excitement.
"Come in to dinner," he urged, but Hansie wished to see only Dr.
Franks and said she would wait.
"Tell me," she said before Mr. Cinatti left her. "Is there any danger
for my mother in connection with those petitions?"
"Oh no, my dear, I think not. I hope not. The penalty" (he said
"penality") "would be very great. You won't mention it to Dr. Franks,
will you?"
"Of course not," Hansie laughed, and when he flew in a few moments
later, with a silver dish containing bon-bons, he whispered excitedly:
"He's coming now. Be on your guard! Take some of these, they contain
_rum_." Dear Mr. Cinatti, how he enjoyed an atmosphere of danger! How
he revelled in secret adventures, and how he would have appreciated
the conspiracies at Harmony, at a later date, if it had been possible
for the van Warmelos to take him into their confidence!
* * * * *
There was an atmosphere of serenity in the courtly, kindly presence of
the great doctor.
"Have you any objection to being cross-questioned?" he asked,
producing a notebook and pencil.
"Not at all," she said.
"General Maxwell told me to make a point of visiting your ward. I am
sorry you will not be there. Would it not be possible for you to go
over to Irene with me to-morrow? I am leaving by the early train."
Hansie hesitated.
"I have no permit, and it is too late now."
"Oh, that is easily remedied."
A messenger was at once dispatched to General Maxwell's house, almost
next door, and he soon returned with the necessary permits and a
cordial note from the Governor, wishing them "good luck."
That was an eventful day at Irene!
The anxious face of the "new nurse" broke into a beaming smile when
she saw Hansie on the scenes once more, the people crowding round her
with their questions. Why did she come back? Was she going to stay?
Didn't she go to Pretoria yesterday? Who was that with her? etc.
Mothers pulled her aside and pointed in wordless grief to their tents,
to what lay there in still repose since last night. Children clung to
her skirts--"We thought you had gone for good."
"The people love you," the great doctor said.
"But not as much as I love them," the answer quickly came.
It was arranged that Dr. Franks should go through the hospital, the
dispensary, and the store-rooms in the morning, with the matron and
the doctors of the Camp, and that after lunch he should inspect some
of the tents in Hansie's ward.
This arrangement suited her to perfection, for she wished, after she
had greeted her people in the Camp, to write an important letter,
destined for the north of Holland, for which she had had neither time
nor opportunity for many weeks.
The doctor's "hour or two in the Camp" lengthened to three, very
nearly four, and during the greater part of this time Hansie, sitting
in the tent which had been hers, wrote, without lifting her head.
"How shall I get this away? The censor must not set eyes on _this_,"
she mused as she folded the closely written sheets.
She put the envelope into her handbag, and just then "the girls"
trooped in from the Camp. Surprised greetings were exchanged and
explanations made as they all went into the big marquee where the
midday meal was being served.
The doctor was very hot and tired after his long visit of inspection,
but highly satisfied with the number of notes he had made, and the
meal passed off in animated conversation. When it was over, Dr. Franks
and Hansie went through the long rows of tents in her ward--her
"prize" tents she called them--and the doctor seemed much struck by
the extreme poverty and misery of the inmates. In one tent two little
boys were dying, and the distracted mother, when she heard the magic
word "doctor," implored him to save them. She was a widow and these
children were all she had. He knelt beside them and examined them with
his strong and gentle hands, shaking his head. There was no hope.
"Your ward is in a shocking state. But things were not as bad in the
dispensary and store-rooms as you made out last night," he said to her
on their way to the station.
There was a touch of reproof in the kind voice.
"You saw the small supply which is always kept for inspection,
doctor," she answered. "It is always there and is not touched when the
stores run out."
His face wore a troubled look, but he said no more.
When they parted at the station he said he would report on his visit,
to the Governor, and Hansie laughingly replied that she would report
too.
"For you are a Briton and I am a Boer. General Maxwell must have _two_
reports."
She found the Governor next day in the friendliest of moods and
evidently satisfied when she thanked him for the improvements in her
ward.
He told her that the Commandant, who had been at Irene when first she
came there, was going round the country to inspect all the Camps and
to write reports for him. Seeing the look of intense dissatisfaction
on her face, he asked whether she did not think that Commandant
----would do it well.
"No, indeed," she replied. "I think I would do it a great deal better.
Will you let _me_ go round to all the Camps also, to write reports for
you?"
She spoke in jest, but to her surprise the Governor immediately
entered into the idea, saying that it would be a great help to him to
know that he could rely on getting truthful reports.
"You must come and see me later," he continued. "I advise you to take
a few weeks' rest before you begin this tour. Is there anything else I
can do for you now, or, I should say, for your people, for I have done
nothing for you."
"Not just now, thank you, General; but I will let you know when I am
able to go round to the Camps, and when I take up my work again at
Irene."
Suddenly she remembered the unposted letter in her handbag.
"But there _is_ something else----" She hesitated.
"I have a private letter for Holland here. It contains no word about
the war, but I cannot let it pass through the hands of the censor. May
I ask you to send it for me? I can assure you----"
"With pleasure," he broke in. "I will see that it is dispatched
safely."
"Thank you very much. Shall I tell you what it is about?"
"Oh no; I trust you."
He handed a piece of sealing-wax to her.
"What is this for?" she asked.
"To seal the letter," he replied; but she quickly answered, with a
smile:
"Oh no; _I trust you_."
He gave her a long official-looking envelope, into which she placed
her letter, and, when she had readdressed it, he closed it with the
stamp of the Military Governor's office.
Now, this little scene could not have taken place a few months, or
even a few weeks, later, but at the time Hansie had no secrets to
conceal from the Governor, and she had no reason to feel the slightest
qualm in asking him to do her this personal favour.
But the time was soon to come, however, when she remembered the
incident of the uncensored letter with no small degree of
discomfort--when she found herself in the midst of conspiracies
against the enemy, conspiracies of a far more serious nature than the
harmless "smuggling" hitherto carried on by her and her mother.
"He would never believe that that letter contained no war news, if he
were to find out what we are doing now," she thought then. "This kind
of thing must cease--no more favours from the enemy, and, if I can
help it, no more interviews with the Governor. But there is this tour
of inspection--no getting out of that, and I shall have to see a great
deal of him. Well, as far as the Camps are concerned, I can always
'play the game' to him. That is a thing apart."
A few days after this interview with the Governor, Mr. Cinatti called
at Harmony with the interesting news that General Maxwell had invited
the entire Diplomatic Corps to spend a day with him at Irene.
"We are going to-morrow [July 13th]," he said. "Now, why are you not
there?" looking dolefully at Hansie.
"Oh, why did I leave my little round tent at Irene Camp?" she wailed.
"But I will give you a letter for Miss Findlay, Mr. Cinatti. She knows
all my worst cases and she has many quite as bad in her ward. Ask to
see her, and whatever you do, don't forget to ask for Dr. Neethling."
Dr. Neethling was the only Dutch doctor in the Camp, and he was seldom
in evidence when there was any question of inspection. That Consular
visit to Irene must have been quite an event. General Maxwell, Major
Hoskins, and all the Consuls in a body went through the Camp and
hospital, and made the usual inspection of foodstuffs and "medical
comforts."
They were satisfied that great improvements had been made, but they
did not see the volunteer nurses or Dr. Neethling, although Mr.
Cinatti asked three or four times for Miss Findlay and all the Consuls
asked to see Dr. Neethling. These good people were not forthcoming,
and there was so very much to see that it was time for the sumptuous
lunch, with which General Maxwell treated the Consuls at the Railway
Station, before further questions could be asked.
On the return journey General Maxwell inquired of Mr. Cinatti what he
thought of the Camps, to which Mr. Cinatti replied, with that quaint
mixture of pathos and humour which characterised him:
"General, your tiffin was a beauty, but your Camp--was very sad!"
Mrs. van Warmelo laughed when Hansie repeated these words to her and
said:
"Oh, you have no idea how funny he is," and then she related the
following incident to her daughter with great relish:
After she had drawn up the first petition, she was out driving one
afternoon with Mrs. General Joubert in the latter's carriage, going
from house to house to get the signatures to the petition, and on the
Sunnyside bridge they found the three inseparable Consuls, Aubert,
Cinatti, and Nieuwenhuis, out for their daily constitutional, leaning
over the railings and looking down into the stream below. Approaching
the bridge from the opposite direction were Lord Kitchener and his
A.D.C. on horseback, and the three parties met, as luck would have it,
in the centre of the bridge.
"The Consuls took off their hats in greeting to the ladies in the
carriage, and then turned in salutation to Lord Kitchener, but I wish
you could have seen the look Mr. Cinatti gave me, Hansie, as he
glanced from the document in my hands to Lord Kitchener's retreating
form. It spoke volumes, and I had the greatest difficulty in
preserving my gravity."