1934 March
Family letter
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta
March 1st 1934
My Dears,
Although March has only started to-day, and though the 15th March is the official date for punkahs to begin, we have used the fans quite a lot this week, and the weather has had the intensely dry quality of which we complain we don’t get enough in Calcutta, but which I personally don’t like, for it gives me such a strong tendency to hay fever. I have got it now, and the mistake I have just made was due to having to stop hurridly and catch a sneeze, so to speak.
The lunch-party to which I scurried off from writing my mail last week was a very amusing one. We lunched at Firpo’s, so the food was good. The party was only my rather odd artist friend Philip Steegmann and Raja Dorji, the prime Minister of Nepal, who is a most engaging person. We talked about Tibet a good bit. Bhutan is so close, and looks so much to Tibet in religious matters, that Dorji is well informed about it, though he himself has never been to Lhasa. His father was a great help to the Younghusband expedition in advising over the negotiations, and being present at most of the interviews. Dorji says that the reincarnation of the Dalai Lama should be taking place about now, that the perscribed time for him to spend in some other world is just up. After lunch we took Raja Dorji into the Asiatic Society to see Dr Van Manen, the Secty who is also one of the very eminent Asiatic scholars. It always astonishes me how Van Manen has all the details of any subject connected with Central Asia, Tibet, and it seems China also, at his finger tips, it doesn’t matter whether it is ancient history, or the most modern of politics, He is really a wonderful old chap. From the Asiatic society we went on to Steegmann’s studio, partly to show Dorji some of Steegmann’s work (in the hope of tempting him to have himself and his wife painted) and partly to look at the treasures which Steegmann brought back from Nepal, when he returned from a two months stay there, while he was painting the Maharaja’s portrait. Like many unexpected outings, it was altogether a very interesting, and enjoyable one.
I took my horse out to Tollygunge on Friday afternoon, as I was detirmined to make him trot. For an hour and a half I took him through the “Jungle” paths out there, and trot he would not, until we were almost back at the club. How ever, the idea evidently penetrated to his old brain, for the next morning, on the Maidan, he trotted quite well. I am enjoying having a horse to ride, and its lovely at this particular moment, because the trees are looking so lovely, and all getting their new leaves, and I like to go about and look at them.
Several evenings this week I have been out to “cocktails” with different people. and Herbert has come and picked me up about 7.15 after he gets out of Council. Its really a wretched life for them when Council is on. They get absolutely no leisure time at all, and get more and more exhausted as the session goes on. We had a biggish cocktail party of our own on Saturday, which went off pretty well, though not with quite the flip of the last two I have had. There were two difinitely dull women at this one, and I had to keep on moving the men who were talking to them before they became too exhausted!
This week I have carried out a thing that I have been meaning to do for ages. I have had my Blind Guides from the Blind School, in to a joint Rally with the Guides at the Diocesan School. They were so excited about it, and the Diocesan girls were charming to them. They are all Bengalis, so I rather hovered in the background, and the Bengali Guide Officers, of whom there are two excellent ones at the Diocesan School, took the Rally. I have been doing rather a lot of Guide work this week. We had a finance Sub-committee here on Tuesday morning, for we have come to the conclusion that we must reorganise ourselves and fit our expenditure to our income. We were at it practically all the going into figures, and rents of rooms and all sorts of details, and finally putting our recommendations into shape for the Execitive Committee.
We had a lunch-party on Sunday, which I believe Herbert positively enjoyed. It is odd how one or two good talkers will make a party “go”. I am hurrying to finish off all my duty entertaining before it gets too hot.
Herbert is very depressed about his new job, but I hope it is chiefly because badly overtired. He says that every possible thing is being done to tie his hands and make it impossible to get anything done. An “Economic Board” has been set up to advise him, with thirty members, most of them Indians, and nearly all of them complete duds.
Before I stop I must tell you a tale told me by one of the High Court Judges, whose word I have no reason to doubt. You perhaps know that there are certain palms out here, called, familiarly, Toddy Palms. One of these palms grows close outside the Judge’s window. The feature of these palms is that the sap from them makes an agreable drink, fermenting very quickly. The people climb up them, make a cut for the sap to run out, and tie a pot on underneath to catch it. Every night the Judge hears a noise in this tree and feeling curious about it he switched his electric torch on to it, and saw a cat which had managed to scale the tree trunk and was having a good drink at the toddy pot. He went on to say that he thinks that it must become quite intoxicated for he always hears a noise of crashing in the bushes a little later, and believes that the cat falls down, but he has never been quick enough with his light to see.
Best love to you all
LJT
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
March 1st 1934
My dear Annette.
I shall tell you a thing – as Richard used to say. That is, the French gramophone records are an excellent thing to listen to just before going to bed if one is dead beat and likely to be unable to get off to sleep. I am very tired these days and as soon as I turn out the light designing sleep my mind perversely releases problems which have cropped up during the day. Twice lately after dinner I have tried the records: and each time I have gone off to sleep quickly. It is because the sound of them soothes the nerves. But as far as learning French goes the only way to learn is to speak.
The hot weather is coming in. It is still not quite certain whether electric fans are really necessary. I try first off then on, and find neither satisfactory.
Do you remember Marco Polo and the Old Man of the Mountains who founded the assassins? Yesterday I attended a lunch in honour of the lineal descendant of the Old Man: to wit, of the Aga Khan, the racehorse owner whose name you may have seen in the papers. This information I got out of Yates’ notes to Marco Polo. The Aga Khan is a smallish fat man with a very fair complexion and loose pasty cheeks. I couldn’t see much in him which suggested the descendant of one who organised assassins: but he did not look to me very reputable. Carpet seller like. His followers often wear gold turbans but otherwise are not particularly smart.
No doings to recount this week. An attempt at tennis on Saturday, tea at Tollygunge on Sunday, a visit to Brother Harry . . . . and I have sat in the club after council most evenings for no reason save weariness: that sums up my amusements.
Much love
Daddie
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
March 6th
My dear Annette.
Read my last week’s letter and imagine it to be this week’s: you will lose nothing. (1) Singles (tennis) twice with your mother. No – not good. It is a pity that one cannot resume a game after abstaining from it indefinitely without pains and practices. (2) A garden party. This might be described as a wow or even a howl. Falling into a company of folk known to us, in the mood for mockery and such, we held forth together. (3) a holiday (last Thursday) which, contrary to my habits and to the tenets of propriety, I observed by returning to sleep: from 10.30 till lunch – from lunch till 4 – then the garden party. (4) two cocktail parties given by us – 20 people or so each time: most debilitating. (5) work. Council: being fitted with a suit – it will be a failure: and not yet a needed haircut.
Look you. Suppose I had tried to write all this in French, would anything have come of it? not much. My French consists of learning gramophone records by heart and remembering them differently. This week I have used the gramophone to make me somnolent at bed time. It is not to be put on when your mother is at home: for after all it is a gloomy litany which the gramophone and I conduct together. None the less write me in French and I shall see (ek) if I can understand it and (do) if I can reply. Ek and do are Hindustani and mean what you have guessed them to mean – if you have not indeed remembered them.
I am most bad tempered about my work. There has been so much hoo-hahing about it in speeches and papers that I feel it impossible to produce anything which could meet expectations. Something dramatic and explosive is indicated. It is a question whether I can persuade Government to try what I want or myself to try what they do.
Is there more to say? lots! but I don’t know that it would interest you: and I am gone in the back (Council from 2.30 to 7.30! my strength has gone from me)
Farewell And much love
Your’s
Daddie
Family letter
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta
March 7th 1934.
My dears,
This has been a very “Guidy” week. We have a special trainer in Calcutta for a week, and have been making the best of the opportunity of getting fresh ideas, and learning new things from her. I have been working with her both morning and afternoon the last three days, and it has been great fun. This morning 18 of us sallied forth at 7 o’clock and went out to a bit of wood at the end of Tollygunge Club where, dividing up into groups of three, we studied the art of cooking without any utensils, and cooked our own breakfasts, finally tasting one another’s food with such enthusiasm that we came away with a grossly over-fed feeling. One of the Guiders said to me “I never thought we should be able to eat any of the things, did you?” I had had more faith than that and quite believed that I should get a hearty meal, but scarcely expected it to be as good as it was. The only cooking pot we had was a kettle for each group, in which to make our tea. The rest we did with sticks, paper, stones and leaves. My party made what the Indians call “kababs”, that is bits of meat, potatoes, and onion, threaded on this bamboo sticks and roasted over the fire, bread made in long strips, wound round sticks like puttees, and baked over the hot ashes, and eggs with tomatoe baked in orange skins. Other people did little rolls of bacon done like the kababs, sausages tied on to the end of bamboo twigs, and grilled, fish cooked in paper parcels, (you need about six wrappings of paper, and each one dipped in water, and then the fish or meat cooks beautifully), eggs baked in the ashes, with a little hole made in the top of each so that they do not burst, and eggs baked in potatoes. Its interesting that if you let your fire die down to nice hot ashes the food cooks beautifully, and does not get in the least smoky, and seems to keep its flavour and tenderness so well. I feel that being marooned without cooking pots will hold no terrors for me now.
After our cooking and clearing up our fires, most of us went along to the Club for a bathe which we thoroughly enjoyed. I had not bathed for some time. Herbert has been getting so late out of Council, that we have not seriously started bathing yet.
We went to a garden-Party given by one of our Mohammaden Ministers last Thursday, to meet the Aga Khan, and the Governor (who perhaps I should have put first) It was rather a nice party, but the Aga Khan is even more ugly than he looks in his photos.
This week-end we were full of virtue, and gave two large cocktail parties on Saturday and Sunday. They both went rather well, particularly the one on Saturday, to which I had asked some girls and several young men. They stayed very late, mixed a variety of cocktails, and talked and laughed a great deal.
The gally proof of the rest of the book “Tours in Sikkim” has come, and the second proof of the first part, but I have been so busy that I have not had time to look at it yet, but I must get down to it next week. Its rather a thrill seeing it all in print, so much of the later part is entirely new.
On Monday evening I forsook Herbert and dined out “to meet the Governor” - - just a small party, and very pleasant. H.E. always seems so much happier at small parties than at big ones. I think he finds the amount of social functions attached to his job a bit trying.
Best love to you all
LJT
From LJT to Annette
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta
March 8th 1934.
My darling Annette,
I was amused at your description of the sermons at the church you go to. It always seems such a pity to me, that the padres will preach, whether they have anything to say or not. Only twice in my life have I been attending services regularly, where the clergyman always preached interesting sermons. The first time was in Southsea, about the time I left school, when we had a vicar who was quite a brilliant preacher, and the other time was in Barisal, when you were a little tot of about three, and the two Oxford Brothers who were there both preached most awfully well. It was a pleasure to listen to them, and one did not find ones mind wandering off on to all sorts of other things.
Well, I have now got a new idea about our holiday in France. Mr Fawcus has often talked to me about holidays he used to spend in Haute Savoie, in villages round about the lake of Annecy. The mountains go up from the lakes edge, and one can bathe in, or boat on the lake, or walk and climb in the mountains. One might even accomplish a small walking tour. Mont Blanc is not far off and one gets good views of it. What do you think of the idea? Its quite possible that the journey might prove too expensive. I cant say that till I have made enquiries, but I think living might be cheaper, for the places on the Breton Coast always put up their prices to the maximum in August, and are very crowded at that time of year. The drawback to Brittany is that the country inland is very dull, and there is really nothing but the beach. I want you to say quite frankly what you think would be nicest, because this holiday is to be for you children, and so far as there is money enough I want you to do what you like best. Will you pass this on to Rosemary, because I do not want to write it all over again, and you can talk it over with her, and find out what she thinks.
I cut this picture of the Hardinge Bridge out of the paper yesterday, because I thought it might interest you. It is the great bridge we cross in the train on the way up to Darjeeling, and in the odd way that rivers have in Bengal, the Ganges is showing an inclination to alter its course, and unless sufficiently strong protective works can be built before the flood season comes, there is grave danger that the bridge may be swept away. Shifts of men are working there day and night.
I am sorry about those letters being left out higher up the page When my type-writer ribbon has run out of one reel, something odd seems to happen for a letter or two before it begins to reverse back on to the other reel.
I must hunt on your reports to find out when this term ends, because I imagine I shall soon have to be sending your letters home.
Best love, my darling
From
Mum
Family letter from LJT
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta
March 15th 1934
My dears,
The weather is still very nice. I started out to play golf at 3.30 yesterday afternoon, and it was not unpleasantly hot, and the early mornings are still lovely. I do enjoy my morning rides. The old horse is going very well, and I get a lot of pleasure from him.
After not playing golf since early December, I started again last Thursday, and enjoyed it so much, and have had a couple more games this week. Luckily the rest does not seem to have done my extremely bad play any harm.
Percy Brown and I spent an interesting afternoon on Friday. We went to see the “works” of a man who has recently joined the Himalayan Club, and who is the only man in India who makes stained glass windows. He does not make the glass out here, - -that mostly comes from the Continent, - - but he designs and puts the windows to-gether. Mostly he has to do ugly work to please his customers, a great many of whom are Marwaris. The ugliest age of the Victorian epoch is just beginning to dawn upon them, fitted to their own particular ideas. Invariably they want a setting sun with lots of golden rays, blue water, and quantities of pink lotus or roses, and if possible, a peacock or two thrown in. Now and again he get more congenial work, and what he really asked us to go and see was a couple of big windows illustrating episodes in the life of Krishna. They are very interesting, and I am going to see them when they are finished. The difficulty at the moment is to get a satisfactory blue for Krishna’s flesh tint. He is always represented as being blue, you know, and all the ordinary blue glasses look so dead and cold, so Mr Lyon is experimenting with firing a flesh tint on to the back of the blue glass, and he has to be careful not to make it too pink or the blue turns purple. I was very interested to hear how Mr Lyon, who was in a Calcutta firm that went bust in the trade slump, was asked by some Marwaris to make them some stained glass windows, as they had somewhere seen one he had done for his own amusement, and how, out of that his little business has grown. Its still very much a one-man-show, and he has not been to England for ten years, because if he leaves it, the business would simply stop. He is a stocky little north countryman from Cumberland, and must have any amount of grit and determination to carry this through. P.B. and I went back to the house after tea, and worked all evening at the proofs of the Sikkim book. All the new part looks quite well in print, and I am longing to see it in book form now. I have spent a good deal of time over the proof reading this week, and am nearly through with it now. The next thing will be page proof, and then the Index to which I am not looking forward!
Council has been going on so long, that Herbert is almost at the end of his tether. All the Government people who have to sit in Council are exhausted beyond words. There has never been such a long session as this one. The wives are ready to go on strike, even if the men are not. Last week the anti-terrorist Bill was being made permanent law, and went through with a big majority, as you no doubt saw in the English papers, but the Swarajists fought every clause, and definitely set out to waste time, so that the House adjourning at 7 o’clock on Friday, met again at 9.30 that evening and sat till mid-night, met again on Saturday morning and sat till 2 o’clock, and sat again from 6 till 9.30 p.m. Herbert was completely worn out on Sunday, because all this time they have to carry on and do their ordinary jobs. I have been feeling quite worried about him, but I think he seems a little better this morning, so I hope he will carry on till the end of next week till Council rises.
Mr Shebbeare was in Calcutta for a few days over the week-end, and came to dinner on Friday, chiefly to discuss the question of whether the Himalayan Club should buy some of the Everest Tents, which Mr Shebbeare has to dispose of. As our Chairman, Mr Gourlay (G.B.) is away, I asked another of the committee, Dr Heron to dine and help in the discussion. He was on the first Everest show, and after we had finished talking business, he and Mr Shebbeare got down to comparing notes about the different expeditions, and it was awfully interesting listening to them. They seem to think that for general thrill and interest the “Reconnaisance” was the best. We sat talking till midnight, and they had only just gone off when Herbert came back from his late sitting of Council.
We spent quiet afternoons bathing and having tea at Tolly on Saturday and Sunday, as Herbert really did not feel up to anything else. Unfortunately I had arranged a lunch party for Sunday, which was a bit trying for Herbert, feeling as tired as he did, and I had also got H.D. and Winsome and Hugh Carey-Morgan coming to dinner. However they went home quite early so it did not matter very much. I had been dining out and seeing some Amature theatricals on Saturday night, and got home very late, and on top of the early morning rides, and not having had any time to sleep in the afternoons, I was dropping with sleep on Sunday evening. I was dining out again on Monday, with the Editor of the Statesman, Mr Moore, who always gives very nice parties with marvellous food at the Bengal Club. I sat between Mr Moore and the General, who always amuses me. He has such a delightful and serene belief that whatever he thinks is right, and that if he were given a free hand to govern India all our troubles would soon stop. In a way I daresay he is right, for I gather that he would out-Hitler Hitler quite cheerfully. After dinner we went on to see cicely Courtneidge in that delightful film “Aunt Sally”, so it was altogether a very nice evening.
Last night I was out at rather a quaint dinner party with Sir David and Lady Ezra, a very wealthy and well known Jewish couple. They have an amazing house, and the verandahs and the small town garden are used to house a considerable zoo of birds and deer and other oddments in the way animals. The house, which is a big one, is crammed with objects of every description, hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of every sort of thing you can think of:- china vases, filigree silver, shells, brass ornaments, carved ivory, racing cups, embroideries, pictures, photographs, animals and birds of every description, from the commonest little things made of blown glass or celluloid, to beautiful bits of Lalique glass, and everywhere birds in cages. Dear Lady Ezra, who is the kindest of women, as proud as punch of it all - - her guests all admiring it as called for, and murmuring asides to one another as to how anyone could live in it.
Phyllis Gurner is just passing through Calcutta on her way home, looking much better than I expected after her very severe illness, except that all her hair fell out, and she has a thin crop about two inches long all over her head, rather like a baby’s
I have given you rather a dose of a letter this week. I hope its not too long.
Best love to you all
LJT
From LJT to Annette
14/1 Rowland Rd
Calcutta
March 15th 1934
Darling Annette
Somewhere I have managed to mislay your last week’s letter – I think it may be in one of Dad’s pockets! I don’t think there was anything very special to answer.
Mrs. Gurner is leaving for England to-day – and said if she could, she would look into see you as well, when she goes down to South Hall.
I don’t think Dad has had time to write to you to-day – unless he writes from office. He has been terribly tired all this week. and at the time he usually writes his mail – i.e. immediately after breakfast, a man, who is just leaving Calcutta came to say good-bye to us, and sat some while talking. I am just longing for Council to finish its session at the end of next week. On top of his other work, it exhausts Dad most dreadfully I have been doing a good deal of Guide work this week, one way and another. Even keeping the registers up to date takes time.
We are just reading the book about the Everest flight – called “First Over Everest” – but its not so very interesting. Its all rather too much of a “puff” of the whole show. Compared with the books about the climbers – especially that wonderful chapter by Odell, when he waited up at the highest camp for Irvine and Mallory to come back – its very poor stuff. Its interesting to see how ineffective, in the long run, “blowing ones own trumpet” is.
Forgive rather a short letter this week. I have had a lot of telephoning to do this morning, fixing up another Guide “hike”. Hope you will have nice holidays, my darling.
Best love
from
Mum
P.S. Dad had his 47th birthday on the 11th and neither of his noble daughters remembered!
From LJT to Annette
14/1 Rowland Rd
Calcutta
March 21st
Letter has been sent direct to Auntie Doris.
My darling Annette
It was fun getting two letters from you this week and you were not so far out over your dear Papas birthday – He was gratified that you remembered it – but whether he will recollect it when he is writing to you I do not know –
If I have time this mail, I will write to Miss Capstick on the subject of German translation, as you suggest. I should think you are almost sure to have German Translation in any exam. I seem to have been having a lot to do with Germans lately. I always see a good deal of my friend Dr. Richter and lately I have had two or three long interviews on behalf of the Himalayan Club with two young Germans who are starting on a trek into Sikkim this week. They are very practical and business-like people.
I find I am enjoying myself much more truly this year with a lot of real work to do - and avoiding so many lunch parties and tennis parties. I have immersed myself in map-drawing for Mr. Gourlay this week – He was called away unexpectedly on business and has no time to prepare the maps he wants for the lecture he is giving the Himalayan Club next Wednesday. Working with ones hands has something extremely satisfying about it, don’t you think? I have been sitting up till all hours over these maps the last two evenings, and it has been a real pleasure. I will confess to you that I think they look rather nice – I hope “GB” (that’s Mr. Gourlay) will think the same.
Its almost alarming how easy it is to be thought an expert on a subject by people who know nothing. The Guides are rapidly making me into an expert on trees – in their own minds but thought I love trees and have picked up scraps of knowledge about them – they are only scraps – and I have no sound botanical knowledge behind them – I am also regarded as an expert on Sikkim from the point of view of the tourist and do you know, I believe that is almost true – I have done so much work on the subject for the Sikkim book, that I think there probably is no one else who knows so much about the subject at the moment.
Funny, is’nt it, how one drifts into things – I wonder what different “drifts” you will get into in your life –
Hope you are having nice holidays –
Best love darling
from
Mum
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
March 21st. 1934
My dear Annette
I am sorry that last week I did not write. It was not directly because I was too busy: as I believe that your mother said: I went adrift as to the day of the week, firmly convinced that it was Wednesday; mail day is Thursday. At lunch time someone explained his being late by saying that he had had to write a forgotten mail letter. But I had no time then to remedy my mistake.
Today has been the beginning of change. They have at last got a room empty at the Secretariat and I have borrowed from different departments enough furniture to be able to move into it. There is still the obstacle that I have to go every afternoon to Council. But only four more days of that: and then I shall be able to work at the new job without all these vexatious interruptions. Howbeit I have to go off for a conference at Delhi after Easter: that will be a waste of time, - mere talk about what one would like to do and the difficulties of it instead of getting down to it. It becomes clear that it is no good, in these days, waiting till people behave sensibly: the only thing to do is to savage them and make them do a few sensible things – and then they’ll do so many otherwise as to spoil the effect. However the people with the power – the Governments do more foolish things than most. The chief difference since the war has been putting on high tariffs everyone: then trade collapses: then people say “Tut, Bother, and My (or words to that effect) let us put on a new tariff.” And so we merrily dance along to blue blazes.
I have been arguing my scheme with the Finance Member. The betting is against acceptance. Yet I’ll be very annoyed if they don’t accept it: so I must still believe that they will. And if they do – what will be the result? Either failure – or ruin for some miserable people growing similar crops in less favoured places – unless indeed trade does revive. It would revive in two ticks if the tariffs were dropped: but then the factory people in Bombay would suffer. A bit of a mix-up all round! - But the factory people will suffer anyhow. I should drop the tariff 20% or 30% and debase the currency 20% without saying anything about it. There is too much réclame about Roosevelt: his ideas would work better if he didn’t explain the works to the people. When they all know what he is doing they say Bunk, it’s too simple to be good. Like the conjuring trick. Vulgus vult decips. The common folk like being made fools of – so long they are not told that it is being done.
What am I going to do in my new job? everyone asks me. The come trotting up and saying mysteriously “Have you found a remedy?” – except the officials who grin and think the whole thing folly. Which it probably is: but some noble device must be found. Otherwise we’re in the soup.
I have been to dive two or three times. No great success. Too weary. And it’s rather dull by oneself. Tea on the lawn at Tollygunge twice: rather pleasant. But mostly barring Muller and Hornibrook in the mornings my only exercise and chief diversion have been hurrying downstairs for divisions in the Legislative Council.
I demand of myself why I do not type letters to you three: using carbon. Because I don’t like carbon. Also I write different letters. This one, debating the economic perplexities of the moment is more like a letter to Richard. The poor tootle: I wonder what he thinks of them. And what you think of this. Dull? however these things are the real solid facts – with bite in them. Consider if my scheme goes through 50000 people will have to pay really heavy new taxes at once: and perhaps millions after a few years. Also it should double production eventually over a country half the size of Great Britain – large and add several millions to the population. – If it comes off. But it is strange to think, if it comes off, that it is all to be due to my sitting and doing calculations in my bedroom in Darjeeling and elsewhere.
However it is preferable to go to bed.
Much love
Daddy.
Family letter from LJT
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta.
March 22nd 1934.
My dears,
Although the weather is getting hot, it is really very nice just now, and the early mornings are delicious, and so are the evenings. Its been dry the last few days, and the book covers all begin to curl up, and I have even had to put a touch of oil on my hair because it began to be uncomfortably dry. I was dining out last night with some wealthy and most charming and artistic Jews, who are keen gardeners, and we dined out on the terrace of their garden with a bank of flowers beside us, and the moonlight showing up the more distant beds on the lawn. It was a great pleasure to be there, and added to intelligent and amusing company, and excellent food, it was an evening that was well worth while, especially as we were allowed to sit and talk to one another after dinner and were not made to play games. I have been lucky over dinners this week, for I was dining out on Saturday, and though there was a faint suggestion of playing “Newmarket” after dinner, our host willingly acceded to our request that he should play us the piano instead. A side-show in the way of amusement was his pet parrot, who adores him, and lives loose in the flat, spending his time, when not specially invited, sitting on his perch on a regular parrot’s stand with a tray underneath to catch the food etc! The parrot had gone to sleep, but when Mr Gladding began to play the piano, it woke up, shook itself, and began to listen most earnestly, with its head first on one side and then on the other. Presently it began to get a little sleepy, and its lids slowly closed up over its eyes, but it pulled itself together with a jerk, and put on the intense listening expression once more, only for the same thing to happen again every few minutes. It was a perfect reproduction of many people’s behaviour at classical concerts, and amused me enormously.
Luckily I had not fixed up much in the way of social doings this week, for I have had to take on most of the preparing of the lecture which “G.B.” (Gourlay) is going to give to the Himalayan Club next Wednesday. He got back from a long business tour all round India, last Thursday, having been away two weeks longer than he expected, rang me up to say that he was frightfully full up with work, but that it would be alright, he would lunch with me on Saturday, and get the outline of the thing done, as well as attend to various matters I had waiting his attention as our Chairman and Treasurer. On Saturday morning he rang up to say that he had just had a wire telling of the possibility of getting the contract for a two and a half lakh railway in Delhi, and he had got to get his tenders and estimates ready, and go off to Delhi with them on Sunday night, so that he had to work absolutely all out in his office the whole of Saturday and the whole of Sunday. The only moment when there seemed a chance of his sparing a few minutes thought for the Lecture was while riding on Sunday morning, so I went out to Tollygunge at 6.30, and we rode to-gether for about an hour and a half, and he managed to come in for half an hour before dinner, when we rushed through the prints of his photos, picking out those that he wants to show, and numbering them in series, so that I could get positive film made from them. They are all enlargements from the tiny Lika pictures, the films of which are in strips of 36 exposures and they show up most wonderfully as positive films thrown on to a screen. One of my jobs was to pick out the tiny films from the rolls, and arrange for getting three long strips of them made in the right order - - - a more finicky job than you might think. Next I have been making three maps, which I have loved doing, but they have taken a long time, and I am rather pleased with them now that they are done. I hope GB will be too when he sees them. He only asked for one but I knew he wanted the other two, so I have done them too. There have been various other things too attend to as well and work to do for the Sikkim book, as well as a lot of Guide work - - - but its all interesting.
It was lovely riding out at Tolly on Sunday morning, and I really think I shall make an effort to see if I can keep my horse out there. Its four miles from here, so its too far to expect the syce to walk every day.
Mr Shebbeare was in Calcutta again for the week-end, and we met before lunch on Sunday morning. I remarked that he looked rather warm. “Yes” he said, “I have been riding the young rhino at the zoo. She is wonderfully good” I roared with laughter! Who but Mr Shebbeare would think of breaking in a young rhino, even one born in captivity, to saddle and bridle. He seriously thinks of doing this, and says it will be such an attraction to the children.
We had the last of our series of Symphony Orchestra Concerts on Sunday, I am very sorry they are over. On the whole they have been very good this year.
Herbert is a bit less tired and depressed this week. He has got an office to work in at last, and Council finishes on Saturday, so things will be a bit easier, and he can really shake off his old job. We have been doing a bit of bathing. Its heavenly in the water now.
I’m afraid this letter is rather a boring one. My mind is very full of the Himalayan Club lecture, and of a lot of stuff I am doing for the Guides, and it seems to creep in when I write.
Best love to you all
LJT
From LJT to Annette
14.1 Rowland Rd
Calcutta
March 27th
My darling Annette
It was sad about breaking the eye. I hope they have fitted you up satisfactorily with a new one that it comfortable. I almost wonder that glass eyes don’t get broken more often. They must be rather slippery things to handle.
You seem to be having a good term as far as work is concerned. Your averages are certainly high – Congratulations on getting your French prize. Dad still works away with his gramaphone fairly often. He finds it soothes the mind when he is worried about work, I think. I like your account of your conversation at the German table! but its good that you understand a bit when she talks. Its a great thing to get ones ear tuned in to a language, so to speak.
Its odd that you should have been reading “the Cross of Peace” – because I have been reading it too. Its an odd and unsatisfactory book, I think. To my mind a novel should be the people in it – They should be real and alive and any “subjects” should be subsidiary to them In this book I do not consider that is so at all – The characters are only dragged in to show off what Philip Gibbs wants to say about Pacifism – and the French attitude towards the Germans.
I don’t think I have ever read “The Woodlanders” but I love Thomas Hardy – There’s a tender beauty and humanity about his work, which very few writers achieve, and yet he’s not a bit mamby-pamby.
The weather has got really hot now – so that I am shutting up the house before 10 o’clock – Its a good time for writing and doing jobs – because people don’t go out running about and coming to see one at all hours of the day – Its not much good starting games or anything of the sort till 4 or 4.30 – so that one has a nice long quiet stretch after lunch.
I have been doing a good bit of proof correcting this week and writing up the history of the Himalayan Club. I find I do very definitely like to have some sort of a job of work on hand, particularly something in the writing or map-making line I wonder – when this book of Percy Brown’s is finished, whether I shall have a shot at writing something else.
I don’t think Ill go over on to another page because what little I have to tell in the way of news will go in the other letter
Best love, my darling – from Mum
Family letter from LJT
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta
March 28th 1934
My Dears,
I am writing a day early this week, because we have a Himalayan Club dinner tonight, and I have borrowed a cine-Kodak projector, a Leica positive film projector, a screen, and several pictures of the Sikkim snows, all of which I shall have to return to their various owners to-morrow morning. I hope this evening’s show will be a success. It is rather a new venture. Formally we have only had dinners and lectures when someone rather special happened to be passing through Calcutta. This evening it is purely a members’ meeting. John Tyson, the Governor’s Private secretary, is going to show us the most excellent film which he took of the Donkys trip, when he was out with H.E. in the autumn, and then G.B. Gourlay takes on, and will show us still pictures of his climbs up two or three of the Sikkim mountains and over several of the less known passes, to let our members see what they can do within very easy distance of Darjeeling or Gangtok, and not far off the bungalow routes. He is showing his films with this little leica projector. Its a wonderful little machine, and enlarges the tiny leica films, which are about 1 ½ by 1 inches, up to a picture 6 ft by 4 ft or more. My maps will be shown through our own epidiascope, and I am glad to say, show up very well on it, - - - - better than I had expected or hoped. I have had a bit of a bother over getting the films done. I took them to Kodak’s who cheerfully said they would get them done by mid-day on Saturday, never letting on that they had never done the job of making positives from Leica films. G.B. had got back from tour on Friday night and had to retire to bed with a bad chill on the tummy, so I arranged to take the films and the projector round to show him on Sunday morning. We made a room fairly dark by shutting all the shutters, and found to our grief that practically all the films were printed much too black, We thought that perhaps we had not got the room dark enough, so I promised to come back after dark in the evening and try them again. The result was no better, so Monday morning I took them back to Kodak’s who have re-printed them by last evening, and when G.B. came in here last night we found to our great delight that they are now very good. I don’t know why I tell you about this in such detail, except that it has been occupying much of my time and thoughts.
Herbert is now in his new office, and life seems much more cheerful to him. Council finished its session on Saturday, so altogether life is looking brighter. Also the Governor is looking with a favourable eye on Herbert’s scheme, and what is probably more important, the Honorable member is also taking an interest in it, so things may begin to move at last.
The weather has turned unusually hot for the time of year. The thermometre has been running up over a hundred most days, which it really should not be doing till the end of April. Mrs Gladding and I sallied out at 3.45 and played golf quite happily last Thursday, not feeling inconvenienced by the heat (We did not then know that the temperature was above normal) except that by the time we got to the Ninth or “drink hole” we were ready to swallow a couple of large glasses of iced water each.
Bathing is a joy these days, and its lovely lounging about in the water for a long time. As always happens we have settled down to meeting the same little throng of friends each evening, some of them people I used to see practically every evening last rains and have scarcely seen at all through the cold weather.
Herbert and I played tennis on Saturday, but singles are rather strenuous this weather, and we knocked off after three setts.
On Saturday I had a dinner-party for the Vissers who have just got back from a three months tour in Java, Sumatra, etc, not a pleasure tour, but one, I gather largely to do with negotiations between the various air services. I had intended to take my party on to the Saturday Club dance, but The Vissers are in court mourning for the old Queen Mother and could not appear at any sort of public function, so we just stayed here and talked, and very pleasant it was, except that it kept Herbert out of his bed very late, for the Vissers did not go till Midnight.
I was out at an extraordinarily pleasant little dinner with some very artistic and literary people on Friday night. I enjoy getting into that sort of atmosphere every now and again. It is not very prevelent here in Calcutta.
Percy Brown and I are putting in quite a lot of time with last proof correcting and general polishing of the Sikkim book, and we always seem to find a good deal to laugh about while we are doing it. He has the sense of the absurd very strongly developed, as well as a strong sense of humour.
Every week new flowering trees are bursting into flower. The pink and yellow cassias are looking lovely, and lots of others whose names it would be tiresome to mention, as they could scarcely convey anything to most of you. I am getting more pleasure than usual out of the trees this year, because of riding every morning. One sees them so much better from a horse’s back than from a car.
Its just two years ago since we popped home from France. The time seems to have gone very quickly.
Best love to you all
LJT
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
March 28th 1934
My dear Annette.
It’s a pity that I have not the energy to type my letters and let one do for the lot of you. (But I said this last week?)
No news. – I saw the Governor on Monday and suggested that my scheme was better than his. He does not think so. But as things are it looks as if it could, in a form, go through, and then if the engineers play up, goodbye, in effect, to the Permanent Settlement and the end of the Dead Hand in Bengal. Suppose 10,000,000 Bengalis owing to my efforts and Calcutta half as large again!
I shall go to bed.
Morning. I am just out of my bath and have not yet dressed. My arms and hands are streaming sweat and writing is difficult. I doubt if you will notice much difference. It is a curious thing that the muscles should pick up lazy tricks: once the hand takes to short cuts in writing it is most difficult to make it write the complete outline of any letter. Often nowadays I can with difficulty read my own writing and yet I have had practise enough in dealing with illegibilities perpetrated by myself and by others.
After breakfast. Things are always rushed. A meeting this morning for which nothing is ready. It would have been wise to write my mail letter yesterday evening but I gave was to slackness.
It must have been a shock to you, breaking the eye. Silly of me not to realise that they would of course be very fragile.
I sympathise with your views on German conversation. At least it is a great effort to say anything in French and the principle is the same.
Much love
Daddie