Melrose House, shunned scene of great history

Posted by Madibeng Kgwete: 09 May 2011

They probably thought the continuous display of Hendrick Verwoed’s statue in the town of Midvaal, Gauteng, was a harmless preservation of history.

With municipal elections around the corner, the powers-that-be in the DA-led town soon learned something else: Verwoed, the apartheid architect, remains an insult figure even in his lifeless, artistic depiction.

Amongst black people, the history of South Africa’s colonial and apartheid periods is being shunned for the loses that black people suffered. It is a reminder of the humiliation of the day.

Amongst whites, South Africa’s pre-1994 history serves as a reminder of the guilt of their forbearers. They are too ashamed to take pride in the story of South Africa before Nelson Mandela walked out of jail a free man.

Between the two races, there is an attempt not to remember the past, and one had observed with great discomfort how this plays itself out in real life.

When I visited the Melrose House museum in Pretoria recently for a tour, I saw South Africa’s past being neglected. I was the lone visitor, only to be joined later by two young white males, probably in their 20s.

My fellow tourists, though, were not interested in the extraordinary stories told at the museum.

The tour normally starts at a room next to the reception, but my fellow tourists, upon paying their entrance fee, immediately ran upstairs.

No sooner had they arrived there that the purpose of their visit was revealed. Sweet melodies emanated from their direction, and the security guard knew exactly what they were doing.

“These boys, they are playing the [preserved] piano,” he moaned as he quickly ran upstairs, and I could hear him saying: “It’s enough; it’s enough, guys”.

After their admonishment, my fellow tourists asked a few questions about the age of the piano before departing the museum, with one of them still raving about it as the pair stepped out. “It’s so old but the sound is great”.

Built in 1886 and owned by entrepreneur George Jesse Heys, the Melrose House is the scene of great historical significance, having served (between 1889 and 1902) as the headquarters of the British army during the Anglo-Boer War.

Befittingly, the Treaty of Vereeniging, which signaled the end of the war on 31 May 1902, was signed at the dining room of the Melrose House.

The British government was so grateful to the Heys family they even sent them cash. And, perhaps because of their wealth, the Heys family did not spend the cash but rather used it to decorate their dining room wall.

Heys, son of English immigrants, (his farther, George, was born in North Langashire, England) was born in Durban in 1852, later moving to Machadodorp to start cattle farming.

Later, in 1879, he moved to Pretoria and started several companies, including Heys and Co. General Dealers as well as Geo Heys & Co’s Express Saloon and Coach Service.

Building of the Melrose House started in 1886 at the corner of Minaar and Andries Streets, Pretoria, where it still lies quietly today, facing the Burgers Park.

The house was popular amongst local folk, and there’s no guessing why. “Tea and cake were served at four o’clock (pm) and whisky and soda at five o’clock. The men played billiards when it rained,” says a note.

The Heys family had a huge staff compliment, amongst them a cook, a fulltime housekeeper, ironing servants, chamber maids, gardeners and a coachman.

Inside the house, which had mostly imported interiors and which has been restored to its original form, the black staff members were not allowed upstairs as per Victorian and Edwardian era standards.

Each of the three big bedrooms, all upstairs, had, in addition to the usual stuff, a fire place, a reading table, a bible and a door leading to a balcony.

Next to the main bedroom of Heys and his wife lies a small room equal in size to a modern-day standard bathroom. During the Victorian era, a story is told, it was custom for husband and wife to undress in separate rooms, so this small room was used by Mrs. Heys for that purpose.

Before completing my tour, I looked at the green gardens outside through a window from the first floor. It was a quiet place, far from free whisky-serving meeting place of the bygone era.

Cars and pedestrians walked past as if avoiding the place. No one would come here to re-enact the signing of the Treaty of Vereeniging, I said to myself. The blacks don’t associate themselves with that history. The whites are ashamed of it.