Rose
ROSE HANSSEN, NEE BAGOT-SMITH
Our families were always closely intertwined, my mother being Rose’s father’s, little sister and after whom Rose was named.
She was a little younger than me, but was a great companion throughout our early years and the bond that formed over the years, continued throughout our lives, drawing our families together for many memorable times together.
Her childhood was great. Bagot, her father; a stern and dictatorial figure, with her wonderful, kind, calm and loving mother; Aunt Edith. They made a great couple.
Edith, calm and caring with love and help for all, complimented Bagot perfectly – she, to my knowledge, never said a bad word about anyone and if she said someone was “not so nice” you knew you had better take a gun with you if you have anything to do with them.
Life with the Bagot-Smiths was always interesting and dynamic. Nothing was static; there were always things to do, racing pigeons; baby goats; pet tortoises; breeding chickens; growing vegetables; and then of course the fun picnics and journeys to parts unknown
Bagot could arrive home after work and bellow “Pie” (his term of endearment for Edith) “get the kids, pack up, were going for a picnic”
Everything was action; kids ran around collecting chairs, pots, pans, goats, dogs and perhaps a pigeon for a short training flight.
There was never any dissent from the family, just action which may have had something to do with Bagot’s belt, which could be in his hand from his waist faster than the best Wild West gunman could draw his weapon.
The family transport was a 1 ton Fargo truck and we all climbed in, off we went out to the river bed on the way to Eros airport, where we turned off into the sandy river bed, let out dogs and other animals and set to collecting wood for the fire, setting out the blankets and Aunt Edith’s chair.
With the fire going and the ‘porridge’(!) cooking, Aunt Edith led us in fun song and heaven help you if Bagot thought you were not putting your all into it.
When it was dark we all packed up, pushed the Fargo out of the sand, so it didn’t get stuck and sang all the way home.
Nell’s calf had to go along on one of these outings and Nell was tasked with holding a bucket should the calf decide to do its business – this is on pain of retribution if it messed on the floor of the family transport.
Well, half way along the bucket was half full, then there was a ditch and calf, Nell and bucket fell, unfortunately the bucket landed on Rose, who was decidedly unhappy.
Then one day, Uncle Bagot came home to find the baby goats drinking milk from bottles!
“If these goats can’t drink from a bowl by tomorrow this time; I am going to “slag” them”.
Well, the next day was traumatic for goats, Rose, Nell and I – we had the goats in a headlock and pushed their noses into a pail of milk – they refused to drink, but nearly drowned and by afternoon if you appeared with a pail they would flee to the furthest corner of the pen and bleat in terror.
They never drank milk again, but decided to eat Lucerne, which satisfied Uncle Bagot enough for him to forgo the “slaging”.
Just for the record, let me say that Bagot and Edith’s marriage was wonderful, loving and good. Bagot was the breadwinner, husband and father and Edith supported him in all ways with affection, love and admiration.
The children had a great home and were taught to be useful, polite and nice and were given a busy, interesting and dynamic, childhood.
Bagot was always close to his family as they, Ida, Bagot and Rose with their mother Florence, had weathered very tough times when their father died.
They existed on the charity of Florence’s sisters Nell and Rilda, and their efforts even as children, of catching and selling birds, by Bagot and acting as a nanny to small children, provided meagre but vital funds to live by.
Rilda and her husband Teddy Baber (Town Clerk of Pretoria) cut off a small section of their property and built a small corrugated iron house in which they lived.
As Ida, Bagot and Rose reached maturity and went to work; they added to the house in brick and made it reasonably comfortable for “Granny Bagot-Smith”, which is what she was to your mother and I.
When Granny passed on, Ida inherited the house and split off one section as a flat, which she rented out.
When Ida died my mother inherited and sold it to my sister ‘Myfanwy’ and her husband.
Rose, your mother (I think) was born in Northern Rhodesia in a town called ‘Ndola’. (now Zambia)
Soon afterwards Bagot was transferred to Cape Town and they lived in a home in Pinelands.
In about 1940 (I think) Bagot was given the job of opening up Stewart & Lloyds in South West Africa, so he moved up there in a great adventure and bought the Love Street house in which Rose, Nell, Arthur, Florence and Helen grew up.
My mother Rose and Bagot were always close and I grew up with quite a lot of contact with the Windhoek family.
The families became closer when in about 1948 my father bought a half share of the farm Clifton with Aunt Edith owning the other half, because Bagot as a director of Stewarts and Lloyds was not allowed a direct interest in a farm.
This started a series of combined family holidays – buying up goods and cattle together – fixing an old car, christened ‘Gee Gee’, which was a chev car, which Bagot cut off behind the front seats and to which he fitted a wooden ‘bak’.
Several holidays stand out in my mind – One where we were taking goods to Clifton, Bagot having bought about 50 tyres condemned for car use but OK for the Clifton donkey carts.
We started out at 5.30 am and reached Clifton at 11.30 p.m. after changing 26 tyres on Gee Gee, which all gave up the ghost after a very short distance.
Another wonderful trip was to the Pans:- Bagot closed the Windhoek and Otjiwarongo offices for a Friday and a Monday and took his Fargo truck and the office one, with Dan Liebenberg from Otjiwarongo office, his wife, our two families and about 4 other office staff, 90 gallons of petrol and off we went!
We arrived at the Park gate at sunset and the Ranger (he was the Pienaar who wrote “The Lion Family “and “Op Safari” as well as other books, under the pseudonym of “Sangiro” - If you have not read them you should) told us to go on for about 3 miles, take a road to the left, which led to a waterhole and to make camp.
He would come down later to make sure we were there – this was the Okaukuejo water hole!
In those days there were no sleeping bags so we had to make do with ordinary bedding and canvas buck sails – After that camp socks and most blankets were “throw away” as the veldt was all “steek-gras” (sticky grass)and we never managed to clear the prickles.
Next morning as it became light we were off into the pans – freezing!!
Packed up drove to the Namutoni fort out to “Two Palms” then to Otjikoto lake where an old German just said one word “Raus” when we asked if we could camp there – we went and camped next to the road.
Next day to Otavifontein for lunch – hot dusty, dirty and tired we all swam, boys and men then girls and ladies.
Aunt Edith took snaps of my sister, Nell. Rose and Marjorie, which I managed to get hold of and teased Rose all her life and eventually handed them to Donna/Arthur with all the other family photos.
Although she always made such a fuss when I brought up the “pin up” photos, she was secretly very proud of her beautiful breasts.
One holiday Dan Liebenberg invited me (I was about 16 years old) to go on a shooting expedition with him – Rose asked or was coerced into going along.
It actually turned out to be a poaching expedition, as we eventually arrived on a border farm, somewhere between Okaukuejo and Namutoni gates, where we joined a bunch of “outbackers” who lived on the farm in a one roomed mud hut with ‘riempie’ door hinges – cattle were in a “takkie” kraal and the separator bowl doubled as a receptacle for kudu guts, which had just been shot.
Dan wisely declined an invitation for us to join the family in the hut, with the excuse that he promised the youngsters a camping trip. This despite, the warning that there were a lot of lion about; e.g. lions arrived; the cattle stampeded through the fence of the takkie kraal and the lions in ambush pulled down an ox about a hundred metres away.
This happened about 3 a.m. and we didn’t sleep after the fandango as the lions could be heard chewing on the ox. Dan built of a huge fire and sat up against a tree with a rifle on his lap, all of which made Rose and I quite apprehensive.
Next day we packed everything onto two donkey carts and Rose and I were told to ride on the 4 wheeler carrying the clobber – the 4 wheeler was an old truck with a mopani pole bed on which we sat, Rose with a whip to lash the donkeys and me steering the vehicle using the one remaining spoke of the steering wheel so as to follow the donkeys who were attached to the front axle with a trek chain.
We camped out well into the reserve, where there were no tracks but those made by our carts
Dan and the “hillbillys” spent the evening standing and listening to see if the border patrol had found our tracks and were tracking us with dogs.
Next morning everyone left at dawn leaving Rose and me, plus a .22 rifle in camp while they went hunting.
Rose and I decided to shoot a guinea fowl there were plenty around.
Having missed several times we decided to go back to camp, only to find we were unsure where the camp was.
However we worked out that we had travelled from the west. So from the sun we walked west then south, cut our tracks and followed them to camp.
The hunters returned and we in-spanned and picked up two Eland and 1 Gemsbok then started home, drove through the night getting to Clifton at about 4 a.m.
One year the Windhoek family spent Christmas with us and Dick Ferreira, camping out at Hermanus next to the lagoon.
My friends George and his brother ‘Demetri’ fell for Rose and we all had a great time.
Bagot – Smiths had brought dog “socks” and servant Ananias with them, and I then went with the Bagot-Smiths up the garden route past all Bagot’s old haunts where he met Edith, then dropped Rose at school in Pretoria
From Pretoria we endeavoured to follow the Molopo River to Gemsbok Park and then Aub-river back to Windhoek
That was a marvellous tough adventure, which we will leave as Rose was not with us.
After ‘matric’, my family returned to Pretoria and Rose and her friends spent time with us at our farm, mostly with her friends Margaret Clark and Christa de Wet.
My friends, Fanie Viljoen and Edie Granier plus quite a few other motor sport friends, thought Rose was Christmas – family warned Rose off them as they were from the lower end(!!!) of the social scale.
The girls had to be back by 6 p.m. Sundays, but being prefects came out (all three) to the post box a 8 o’clock to post all the letter that the girls had written home at prep.
Needless to say we were there at the post-box outside the school on our motorbikes – and while our responsible “model prefect” guarded the post box and complained; we whipped Margaret and Christa around the block on our bikes. Then Margaret burnt her leg (and they were super legs) on the exhaust pipe.
It was very taxing for her to explain to Matron at the San where she burnt herself.
After Rose matriculated she went to Wits and stayed at the teachers training college – I, Frank and Fanie had a room in Hillbrow as I was also at Wits, Fanie had a job with African Safaris and Frank at the Post Office college.
The girls spent many weekends with us on the farm and Rose became involved as an official marshal on the L.M. Rally –
She and a wild character Karl Lucouw marshalled on the rally all night and spent the weekend in L.M.
Rose saw the error in this association after that weekend and all was quiet until she appeared with a character from varsity called “Frosty”
As far as I was concerned frosty was a nerd or as Wayne H would say “a bit of a prick”
They (R & F) were in the pits for me for a race practice, where I went off and bent the front wheel – much to my dismay, but having no spare, they offered to guard the car, while I went back to Pretoria for spares and tools only getting back to break up an alarming cuddle at about 11 that night.
Happily not long after that Rose returned home for holidays and to our relief became engaged to a solid man of substance with a farm (!) to whom she was soon married.
Barbara and I had built a little cottage in the veldt on my Dad’s farm Haakdoorn, with one bedroom, toilet, bathroom, lounge, stoep, kitchen without roof and most importantly a large garage.
With much excitement we learnt that Rose’s man was coming to stay with us while he attended a course in A.I. at Onderstepoort.
Rose could not come with him because of little Tammy, who had newly arrived in our world, but she would fly down later with little T for Val’s graduation celebration, when it was judged that Tammy was ok to travel
I found some old doors and with these built a “Skerm” around our double bed, which we moved onto the open front stoep, leaving Val the bedroom with 2 borrowed single beds and a cot in anticipation of Rose and little Tammy’s arrival.
Taciturn, pipe smoking, deliberate and quiet, Val seemed to hit it off with me (“Nev” to him) and Barbara who from first meeting was always “Barbs”
With Rose’s arrival everything revolved around the little baby as these things were new to us all.
Soon realised was the fact that Val was a good sound old time “head of the household” husband who complimented and stabilised my very intelligent, volatile and sometimes worrier cousin giving her a rock anchor and support in her life.
At the same time Rose had vision and dynamics, with which she lifted Val from the sometimes “sit back, pipe smoking and worrying mode” to creative and positive action.
Truly, no one is a perfect companion, but Rose and Val with their too human shortcomings were one of the best marriages I have known in my life.
One incident of significance which increased my respect for Val and convinced me he was the right man for Rose, I shall relate – Barbara did not totally agree with my view, but then she was handicapped in the process of reasoning, being a woman.
Anyway some days after Rose arrived, we were having lunch and Tammy began to complain, Val told Rose to fetch a bottle for her as it was time – there was a difference of opinion until with bad grace Rose fetched the bottle and being mad was in a hurry and while berating Val standing at the table mixing milk formula, he said careful you’ll knock it on the baby, nonsense said Rose and promptly did just that.
Old Val without hesitation pushed back his chair, pulled Rose over his knee and proceeded to spank her soundly over her protestations, which did not subside until sometime after the episode was concluded.
I was quite gleeful and Barbara somewhat shocked and fed up, because my view was that it was “right and proper” in family life.
Rose and Val gave Barbs and I a 4 piece toaster as a thank you for their stay with us, this was only retired 35 years later.
Graduation night came and Rose wanted to attend. After feeding little Tammy she promised Barbs & I that she would be back for Tammy’s next feed at 9 p.m.
Well, little Tammy woke up at 8.30 and by walking around singing to the little blighter, she was semi-pacified until about 9.30, after which she was very hungry and very fed up and made this known by shouting – eventually after Barbs had walked the floor for about 2 hours at 11.45 we heard the car coming down the drive, so Barbs put her into her cot and climbed into bed muttering that she was so cross with Rose and she did not want to fight with her.
Only by my physically restraining her did this eventuality not arrive as Rose, when alighting from the car and hearing Tammy shouting at the top of her voice, hurried down the path, declaiming in her “Rose” voice, “Oh my poor little baby, did they leave you to cry all by yourself”
The years went by through the tough foot and mouth years, with Tammy living with Aunt Edith and Rose & Val doing duty on a foot and mouth check point, living in an old army tent at the side of the road.
At that time Pete had qualified and worked in Windhoek, where he had a flat, a high-fi set and a rubber tree plant, with lights that dimmed when he played music, all of which cost more money than Rose and Val had seen for years
The rubber plant was to Rose like a red rag to a bull and she never failed to rise to new heights when I enquired about it.
We had great holidays with Rose and Val at Grey Heights and then Tara enjoying that rugged fascinating area, with the eternal water woes, Casey the springbuck, Widow maker, Val’s horse and the well used series 1 Land rover, which was their transport.
Rose and Val took us on a trip to the Namib in this vehicle, Val, Rose, George, Nancy, Barbara and I, down the Gamsberg and into the Namib – where at 1 pm sharp, we stopped beside a 2m high bush, Val called “Lunch Rose”! after tea, coffee, biltong and bread old Val lay down on the sand, with his head under the bush and his hat tipped over his face, he had a siesta for an hour, while we sat about and cooked (in the heat!)
Then back up “Spreets Hoogte” to the high country, with nail biting moments as we rounded “s” bend with the Landy in low ratio 1st gear, barely inching along and sounding like it was out of power, with our host and driver Val H saying “The brakes don’t work in reverse, so if we stall jump out and get rocks to put behind the wheels. We made it; just, just!
“The fruit and vegetable garden” was a haven of growing things; fruit which Rose bottled as well as vegetables, which she also preserved and the dining room was ringed with shelves filled with her bottled preserves, which were depleted until the next veggie growth or ripening of the fruit trees.
In the drought and waterless years, Rose and Val found peace and inspiration in their garden of growth, in that hard semi desert region.
As I had taken up flying, after being banned from racing by Barbara, Rose and Val persuaded us to visit by air, Val having made an airstrip on the farm to encourage us.
Well, after a long flight we arrived and remembering Val’s instruction on its position we saw the “strip” Val had said was OK so despite it looking short, we side slipped over the Priscopus trees at the Kraal and managed to stop before disappearing into the valley.
On examination the strip started at the Kraal trees, went uphill for some 300m then downhill for some 75m to the edge of the cliff at the valley’s edge.
Well Val wanted to see the farm from the air, so early next morning when the air was cool he and I went off.
We trundled (that’s the best word) up the first hill section and at the crest had nothing on the airspeed indicator, but the makers name, then accelerated down towards the cliff and dived into the valley, which gave us enough air speed to fly.
After about an hours flight, during which Val was very quiet, we landed stopping eventually on the crest of the hill.
The whole family were there to meet us and assisted in tying down our precious aircraft while Val stood on top of an ant heap some distance off puffing on his pipe and staring into the distance.
We were ready to go, so I went over to enquire what he was doing to which he replied “Looking for a site for another airstrip! This one’s no damn good”.
Then there was the new house, which had rats in the ceiling, solved by putting cats up as well, this also became a nuisance – my memory fails me, but I do remember some arrangement about a python which would a) eat the cats & b) the rats.
Then there was the successful freezing of semen, under ranch conditions – Arthur and Tink Robby were doing field work for their doctorate and this was the research they undertook, on which Val was very keen as it would benefit him immensely.
Days passed, freezing and thawing, until eventually the thawed fellows swam! Jubilation and celebration! Val had been keeping a special expensive bottle of champagne, just for this occasion.
Toasts were poured; - then a heartfelt set of cowboy curses from Val, as he discovered that Elsa (the maid) had drunk 90% of the champagne and filled the bottle with water.
Then there was the visit to San Martinho in Mozambique, where Wayne fell off the top bunk onto a sleeping Val, who thought a leopard had attacked him.
Other memories of the Swamp holiday and sailing on the Hermanus lagoon came back to me with the picture of Frank pitching him and Val into the water when landing before a cheering crowd.
With the advent of Harry and wife, things did not go well and Rose became very unhappy with the situation.
The brothers eventually agreed on a split and I flew the 3 brothers up to an Otjiwarongo farm, where the purchase of Okonjima was concluded.
Many a lovely holiday with the Hanssens resulted – I can still hear the beat of the old Lister 5|1 driving the generator in the room next door to the little room, where the Austin clan slept.
Hunting Kudu, biltong and making an airstrip along with Rose and the cats, that ate the dinner she had prepared; all treasured memories of good times.
Rose showed great talent in swinging cats and my admiration knew no bounds at the way she managed to aim their trajectory through the door every time.
Helen’s marriage at the farm was the last occasion, for a long time – memorable in the gathering of the clan – tents on the lawn ; sitting on hay bales and the ox on the spit.
After this memory fails me and though Tammy visited and the family came to see us in Pretoria the details escape me.
Through Aunt Edith’s passing, Arthur’s marriage, Nell’s marriage, we kept contact to the day when we heard Rose was in a Windhoek Hospital.
Not believing she could be seriously ill, I phoned her on the day she passed on and had the normal cheery and fun conversation with her, only to have news shortly thereafter that she had gone.
With Barbara’s death Val and I became closer and shared one another’s loss and the decision to move along with life and another companion.
When I look at Okonjima today and see the great organisation that Rose and Val’s children have built, I think that both of them must rest easy, happily and with pride.
Neville Austin
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