1935 December
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
Dec 4th 1934
My dear Annette
a merry merry Christmas and a superfluity of spiritual gifts to grace it! That is by way of a blessing. Would that I could feel that where I happen to be that day there will be jollity: for usually there is a certain stiffness – due mostly to a growing fear that after dinner there will be round games. Your Aunt Winsome has a passion for them: it is a characteristic of an unspoilt disposition: what mars them is a wish to shine – plus a feeling that one will not.
In my other letters home I have made lamentation about the labour attendant upon my Bill (Debt, this time) and the slowness with which it staggers through Council. For this cause I shall say no more about it to you. But realise that it is my only news for the week: for any week. Zeal eats me up. I care nothing for the Bill; but I cannot bear to see it go through in a worse form than need me. Which reminds me of my sorrow for three ants brought into the house on flowers purchased in a shop, exploring the table desperately and at last standing together resigned to the knowledge that some miracle has destroyed their world and that they are for it. This bought down on me rebukes from your mother who is firmly persuaded that in such matters I am an ass. She has deceived me; only this evening did I hear (from Mrs Martin) that she had been thrown off her horse yesterday while riding – I now remember that the car is out of action today. Magneto dud upon us. Armature shorted. If you don’t know what that means ask Richard, and he will not either. Anyhow magnetos are a species of miracle or freak thing. It is a strange happening: anyone will tell you that magnetos don’t go wrong: believe it not at all – definitely it is not true.
What more? a cold sore coming on my lip: I have just found it.
The topic of the day is whether the death of the Princess Victoria will put off the Period Ball. My wig is soaking in petrol: I refused to try it on till it was guaranteed clean. I cannot conceive myself in light blue satin but in a white wig I suppose one is emboldened. If the Ball is put off many trades people who have laid in stocks against it will suffer. (And I had never heard of Princess Victoria before – at least I think not.)
Much love
Dad.
Family letter from LJT
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta
Dec 5th 1935
My dears,
A happy Christmas to you all! And what would I give to be amongst you! I think I have sent seperate letters to each of you so I wont enlarge on Christmas wishes, but get on to my usual newspaper method.
The past week has been remarkable for the fact that I had a touch of fever, and spent about three-quarters of Thursday in bed. I think it is the first time I have spent even part of a day in bed for over two years. It had the advantage that I wrote my annual report for the Himalayan Club while I was reclining on the sofa in the drawing-room in the evening. I got tired of my bed by 5 o’clock, and luckily we have an enormous sofa in the drawing-room, which is most comfortable to lie on. It was suggested that I might have dengue fever, of which there is a regular epidemic in Calcutta just now, but as that lays one out completely for several days, I did not think mine could be more than a touch of malaria. I kept quietish on Friday and started leading a normal life again on Saturday. On Sunday, G.B. being away, I promised to ride in the afternoon with a Mr Munroe, who is always wanting me to show him the country to the South of Tolly’s Nullah, and when I came home again and had a bath, I saw that I had a slight rash all over me, so I knew I had had dengue, for that is one of the symptoms. That is all dull, and heaven knows why I have written about it at such length, but what is really exciting is that two men, one of whom I know very well, and have probably mentioned often in my letters, Mr Cooke, have just got back from a mountaineering expedition, and have succeeded in climbing Kabru, a 24,000 ft peak near Kangchenjunga, which it is believed has never been climbed before. (Many years ago a man claimed to have climbed it, but from his description all the people who knew that group of mountains, said he had mistaken his peak, and that really what he climbed was a lesser mountain known as “the Forked Peak”. It may sound odd to mistake a huge mountain, but in that tangle of giants round Kangchenjhau it is very easy, especially as that was in 1883, when much less was known about these peaks than is now.) Mr Cooke had been preparing for this expedition for months, and I have been in close touch with him all the time. He designed a lot of his own equipment, and we were all keenly interested in that, and I more or less arranged his porters for him. I am glad to hear that they were a huge success. His companion, a Swiss, who has climbed a great deal in Europe, is amazed at the strength, courage and cheerfulness of the Sherpa and Bhotia porters. He also says he has never climbed under such wonderful snow conditions. He says the snow was quite perfect, and that they were able to negotiate snow slopes unroped, which it would have been suicidal to attack without a rope in the Alps. This is all most interesting in view of the fact that the snow on the great Himalayan peaks has a bad reputation as a rule, and also that every one prophecied that these two men would not get anywhere as they were going too late in the year. They had great luck, as it was the finest Autumn that has been known for years. Both say that had the weather been bad they would never have got up. The good news of their success was telephoned down from Darjeeling the day before yesterday, and they arrived in Calcutta yesterday morning. Mr Cooke rang me up almost at once, and asked me to lunch with them at the Great Eastern Hotel. It was great fun. They are both burnt as brown as nuts, and had still got their beards on, so they were the cynosure of all eyes. It was their first really civilised meal and how they enjoyed it! We spent an hour and three quarters over drinks, lunch and coffee, and even then we have scarcely begun on all the things we have to talk about.
Owing to my slight indisposition, I have had a fairly peaceful week. Monday and Tuesday were busy days, for we had a Girl guide Rally and Sale of Work on Tuesday, and I was in charge of the Sweet Stall. The general public did not roll up in at all large numbers, - - (I never thought they would - - ), but in spite of that we made a little money, and the children from the different companies enjoyed seeing one another, and we finished up with a good camp fire. In spite of the days work I went to a dance at the Saturday Club in the evening, luckily the Tuesday dances only last till midnight, so I was not so very late in bed.
Herbert is in the throes of his Rural Indebtedness Bill, and though he gets extremely annoyed at the futile waste of time over idiotic speeches, he is bearing up and looking quite fit.
Princess Victoria’s death has been the cause of cancelling various shows this week, and we are all wondering whether it will put a stop to the Period Ball which the Willingdons were giving on Dec 30th. I expect Lady Willingdon is very sick about it! She was set on giving parties this year that would outdo previous ones and be talked of after she had done, at least that’s the gossip.
Its got considerabley colder the last few days, and one is glad of a heavy coat in the car in the evening, and I have just rearranged my drawing-room so that the small sofa and chairs are grouped round the electric fire, instead of under the fans.
I dont think there is any more news of interest, so I will finish by once more sending you all my best wishes and love.
LJT
From LJT to Annette
14/1 Rowland Rd
Calcutta
Dec 5th 1935
My darling Annette
All suitable good wishes to you for Christmas. May you enjoy your turkey and plum pudding and suffer no ill-effects there from – which reminds me of a remark in an account of the Oxford Expedition to the Arctic – The writer said that after killing some seals (or something of the sort.) “The Eskimoes overate as usual and were quite unable to do any work the next day.” How curious it seems to us that there are people who habitually go so short of food that when they do have a chance of a good meal they feel they must over-eat.
There is a lot of amusing ‘stuffin’ your last letter, but it probably all seems so far behind you now that I wont write about it - Election Speeches – Old Girls meeting – Christmas Stall and so on.
If I have time to-day I am going to write to Miss Capstick and ask her to give me the dates of the Easter holidays – so that I can tell Herbert Richter and he can let his parents know – They are trying to find a nice family in Dresden for you to go to – Do you think you can travel to Dresden alone? I will ask Baron Ow Wachendorf, whether he can give you a letter asking officials to befriend you – so that if you have any sort of difficulty with the Customs or anything of that sort, you could produce it. Some friends of mine who were doing a motor tour in Spain a few years ago, had a letter from a Spanish Consul-General, and they said it was of the greatest use – There are Customs barriers between provinces in Spain and when they got to one of these, they produced this letter and were bowed through without their things being looked at at all.
Supposing I come home next summer – do you think we should try to spend part of the holiday in France? I would like to go some where where there are Lakes and mountains. Without Dad we could travel and live on the cheap. Have you any ideas about it? I wish we could take Auntie with us. Supposing we could rake up the money, do you think there would be the slightest chance of her leaving home in the summer holidays?
Please keep this quite quite secret – as it has only just this moment come into my mind and I don’t know a thing about prices – and I don’t even know whether I shall be coming hom.
It all depends how Dad is.
Golly! I have let myself wander! I must get on with the rest of my Christmas Mail.
Best love, my darling
Mum
I’ve sent the family letter direct to Auntie Doris
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
December 11th 1935
My dear Annette.
After finishing a letter to Richard, rashly I glanced at it and so perceived it to be as near illegible as anything could be with being: and I have wasted the last ½ hour patching it up. How dull are my letters. Instead of writing about the Dachshund pup at Tollygunge (often) that begs self taught and shamelessly, or of all the various dogs which stalk each other and scrap (very stealthily) on the lawn round it, I confine my letters to the duller aspects of my work, and dull is no word for them. It is lucky that no detail is so dull but that, when you push your nose good and firm into the middle of it, it becomes interesting: you are hypnotised by it: but not the people to whom you write about it. Particularly is this true, both ways, of figures. it is also true of my legislative activities. They go on and on like a nightmare: but I am topsides of this particular Bill, having proposed notes on all the 800 (odd) amendments, their’s and our’s. How easy must be the work of an autocrat:- the labour of coaching another on what to say is six times that of saying it – and why talk of saying? – we could have had the damned thing done or well under way by now if it wasn’t for the necessity of persuading others. How futile a thing is democracy! and yet how admirable the product of its gradual development. When only a handful have a vote and all others crave for it, it works. Go beyond that, and there is the futility of which mention has been made. it beats me, most outrageous of the wrong headed, how you can have impressed yourself with the Labour party arguments, unless you assumed that they must be good because you had heard the Conservatives’. It is however a fact that old truths do not impress. No one thought it an achievement that we kept India law abiding and fairly progressive because there was nothing new about it: hence experiments and distress, ascribed to any reason but the deliberate stupidity which produced. Instead, political stunts like my Indebtedness Bill. The opposition secretly tell me that the one hope of its not being a disaster is for me to stay on and work it. They probably say much the same to others about others. But I am not sure that it is not true. But if I believed in it, the chance of its working without causing havoc would be greater. Curious that I should have had more influence on policy in Bengal than any other Civil Servant for years and years. But it doesn’t do much good, to Bengal or to me. A prophet is not without honour: Bihar is imitating my Development Bill: with changes due to timidity. It would be annoying if they worked it and we didn’t. Yet Bihar in 1918 adopted my Bill about Boards of Health in the Coal fields and Bengal did not. Funny!
Re-reading, I repeat my remark that how dull are my letters. The Governor at the Garden Party asked how I bore up: I said “Just surviving, thanks to beautiful thoughts and Christian Science”: and he replied “You should become a Groupist.” There is a knock for you. It pleased many much
My best wishes for the New Year.
Also much love
Dad.
From LJT to Annette
14/1 Rowland Rd
Calcutta
Dec 12th – 1935
My darling Annette
It seems to me that the fact that your people in the School Elections were allowed to dress up, must have added a cachet to the proceedings, which the boy’s schools probably lacked. I got your letters last Sunday, just as we were starting out to a garden-party at the Maharaja of Burdwan’s – from which we went straight on to see the 6 o’clock show of “Admirals All” – so I read the letters in the interval, giving the choicer bits aloud to Mr. Mathews who was with me. He liked hearing about the elections.
I am puzzled that you have only once made a slight reference to the School Certificate Exam – I wonder whether you are doing it this month (“have done it” this will be by the time it reaches you). I am not worrying – for I don’t anticipate that it makes much odds when you are going up to the Varsity – Its just curiosity that tickles me.
There is a most delightful sixteen year old girl, recently come out here, who is helping with one of my BlueBird flocks. I don’t know why she has come out here so young – I gather she is not very strong and that she recently broke her arm – However, here she is, and it interests me to talk to her and see her, for I wonder how she compares with you –
I am just about to write my last Girl Guide District Report and hand over my district to Mrs. Graham, with great glee. I shant even have to take a company till the end of February, when Marian Atkins goes home and I shall probably take on again, my old Xth Company. I am hoping to have some time to do some writing in January and February – if only I can keep myself disentangled from other activities. I am bitten with a great longing to read some Science – Lately Idris Mathews has talked to me quite a lot about science and mathematics and I find it perfectly enthralling – He has an extraordinary knack of explaining apparantly obscure things – so that they become understandable. We were on the subject of “light waves” when we got back to this house about 11-15 last night and it has to be “continued in our next” – That remark is applicable to this letter too – Good-bye darling and my best love from Mum
Family letter from LJT
14/1 Rowland Road
Calcutta
Dec 12th 1935
My Dears,
There is a sort of feeling in the air that Christmas will soon be here, and that one has not made half the preparations one should. I made a great effort to go out and buy Christmas presents at a place called the “The Good Companions”, which is a depot for village and mission industries, run by ladies as a bit of social work. It has become quite the smart thing in Calcutta to sell at “the Good Companions”. I chose the morning and the hour when Lady Willingdon was paying her annual visit! and seeing that everybody was in a fluster, and not at all in the mood to attend to the wants of an ordinary customer, I faded hastily out of the back door. I have only been in there once or twice before, and never like shopping there, for the smart young women seldom know the price of anything and can rarely do a sum, without great expenditure of labour. I moved on to more mundane matters of cheese and bacon and getting a new dark blue blazer for Herbert, before meeting my funny old American friend Miss MacLeod, who spends a good deal of her time at a Hindu Institution called “the Ramkrishna Mission”. It is a group of men, followers of the late Ramkrishna, who live a communal life, having everything in common, and devote themselves to social and educational work. It seems to me to be run on much the same lines as the Oxford Mission, and the Hinduism is so much reformed that it is scarcely recognisable as such. The Monks do extremely good work in many spheres. Miss Macleod became interested many years ago through Ramkrishna’s great disciple, Vivakanander, who travelled a great deal in Europe and America, preaching about this mission and collecting funds and support. I fancy she has given the mission a good deal of money, and she comes and lives for months at a time in the guest House of the mission, which is beautifully situated on the West Bank of the Hoogly a few miles above Calcutta. She is now well over seventy, but full of energy and enthusiasm. She loves to come in and lunch at Firpos, where she eats what one would thing the most indigestible food such as lobster and mince-pies, and talks high ethics, with her dear old blue eyes shining like a child’s. Yesterday’s was a special occasion. Last year one of the Swamis (monks) came to our big Girl Guide Rally and talked to me about Guide work, asking if there was any chance of starting a guide company at a school they have started and are running about twenty miles south of Calcutta, near Diamond Harbour. I said I did not think there was any chance that we could find any officers to go out so far, and the only thing would be for them to get a woman teacher and send her to some Guide Training Week or Weeks to be trained. He asked if I would go down to see the school sometime. He sent a message by Miss Macleod when I lunched with her about a fortnight ago to ask if I would name a day and go down. We fixed on yesterday and asked Walter Jenkins who is Director of Public Instruction to come with us. We lunched with Miss Macleod at Firpo’s at 12.30, and had much excited talk. It took us about an hour to drive to the school, with which we were all very pleased. It caters for the poor children from the villages for an area of about three miles round. The boys and the girls did better drill and physical exercises than I have ever seen done by Indian children. Walter Jenkins was pleased with it all. He said almost sadly that it was refreshing to see the difference in a school where the teachers were enthusiastic, and working because they truly want to do the work, and the dullness of the ordinary Government school, of which he sees so much, and where the teachers have little interest in their jobs. We spent about an hour and a quarter at the school, and were refreshed by glasses of pomegranate juice, which makes an excellent drink. We got back to Calcutta about a quarter to five, and went straight to a garden party given by the Sherrif of Calcutta to the Viceroy. We had wondered why the party was so late (We were asked for half past four) but discovered that the Sherriff had had all the Eden Gardens illuminated and flood lit, a theatre put up where there was a display of Indian dancing, and a splendid show of fireworks, which were let off on the banks of a small lake, across which we watched them. The lateness of our arrival was a matter of no importance since there about 2,000 people at the party, and we did not attempt to say how-do-you-do or good-bye to our host. Herbert had been undecided in the morning whether he would go or not, and when I got home I found him there, not having been to the party. Idris Mathews came and fetched me out to dinner at his house, to have a conference with a Mrs Notley (who with her husband, is staying with Idris for a couple of months before they go home) on the subject of a party which Idris wants to give. First we had to decide what sort of party, next who was to be asked, and thirdly how to run it. The final decision was to have a small dance at his house, where he has plenty of room while the garden, with its lovely view across the river, will make delightful sitting-out accommodation.
I feel tired of writing about “doings”. There are such an awful lot of them in Calcutta at this time of year, - - Garden-parties and Balls and cocktail parties and entertainments of all sorts flock upon one. My morning ride out in the country is more and more of a joy as the days get more and more cumbered with rather formal parties. G.B. is still away, so I rode with Marian Atkins and two men on Sunday, and we went miles along Tolly’s Nullah and stayed out for three hours. We sat under a tree for about a quarter of an hour and let the horses graze. It was a glorious morning. The rice fields are mostly being reaped now, but we were in a low lying district where the crops are still standing and have turned a beautiful gold.
Mr Cooke, the hero of the Kabru climb, dined with us on Friday night, and two other enthusiasts as well. After dinner we got out maps and drawing all our chairs closer to-gether, we had a splendid time hearing the details of the climb and learning how the mountain tops and ridges really run. Mr Cooke followed the same routs as we did as far as the place called Dzongri, and then branched west to Kabru, while we went north towards Kangchenjunga. We are all tremendously interested in the geography of that group of peaks, Herbert especially, and he stayed up quite happily till eleven o’clock.
A lot of correspondence about the Everest Expedition and about the French expedition, which is being sent out by the French Alpine Club has come in during this week. It looks as if I am going to have a busy time in February, attending to various things for them, so I am doubly glad that I have got rid of part of my Girl guide work. The French party are sending the spot climbers of their alpine Club. They have not yet made up their minds whether they are going to try Rakaposhi, which lies north of Gilgit, or a peak in the Karakorams. They want Darjeeling porters, so I now have to write and tell them the terms on which we are willing to arrange porters for them.
Herbert is still very busy over his bills, but he is still keeping very fit. I had to refuse a most entrancing invitation from Mr Shebbeare, who has gone as Chief Conservator of Forests to the United Provinces. He wrote and asked whether Herbert and Myself and G.B. would all go up and shoot in the Nepal Terai with him for the Christmas holidays. I should simply have adored to do it, but Herbert says he cant bear the thought of shooting since he was shot himself. It would have been difficult for him to get away at the time Mr Shebbeare wanted us to go up, and it would have been a little difficult to get out of all our social engagements, but if Herbert had been keen, we would have managed the other somehow.
Its time to get on with my other letters, so good-bye for this week, and my best love to you all.
LJT
Family letter from LJT
The Residency
Gangtok
Sikkim
Dec 17th 1935
My dears,
When you see the address at the top of this paper, you will guess that I have not much time to write letters this week. Poor Mrs Williamson wired to me on Friday to know if I could come up to her for a few days, so I left Calcutta on Sunday night and arrived here at 12 o’clock yesterday. Peggy Williamson is showing the greatest courage and good sense over this tragedy of her husbands illness and death in Lhasa. The woman who came across from Darjeeling to meet her when she arrived in Gangtok, had to get back to her two small boys and a multitude of duties, and Peggy hates the thought of being alone, and of course she should not be, so here I am. I think I shall be leaving here on Christmas Eve and arriving back in Calcutta at 7 a.m. on Christmas morning. A soldier brother of Peggy’s can get leave and come across from Peshawar to arrive here on Christmas morning. The new Political Officer is expected here one day this week. At present the junior man, who is known at The British Trade Agent in Tibet, and who was with the Williamsons in Lhasa, and brought Peggy down here, is acting. There is a tremendous lot of packing to do. The Williamsons had so many treasures from which she does not want to part. Luckily here people have a big house at home, and I think she herself will be quite comfortably off. There will be a lot more to see to when Mr Gould, the new Political Officer, arrives. There is a certain amount of Government furniture in this house, and a lot of privately owned stuff, and there will be the question of going through lists and seeing what he wants to buy, and how best to dispose of the rest.
I am very much struck by the way character comes out at a time like this. Peggy is constantly thinking of other people, and how the tragedy of her husband’s death is affecting them, and what she can do to help them.
It is not as cold up here as I thought it would be. The sun is marvellous, and the snows were looking so lovely yesterday evening at sunset. They were all deep glowing rose-colour, and a great plume of cloud which seemed to be floating from the summit of Kangchenjunga, was just the same beautiful pink.
I was very busy the three days I was in Calcutta, for I had no idea how long I should be up here, so I have to leave all my Christmas present ready, and get a whole lot of Himalayan Club work finished off, as well as putting off all my engagements for this week, including a cocktail party which I was giving to-day. I went out to see a Russian Circus on Thursday night, and some Balinese Dancers on Saturday. The circus was good fun, but not at all in the same class as Hagenbeck’s which was in Calcutta a couple of years ago. The Balinese dancers were beautiful and most interesting. I am hoping they will still be in Calcutta when I go back as I should like to see them again.
I had a wonderful drive up the Teesta valley yesterday. It takes about five hours in a car. There are a tremendous number of parties of Tibetans with mules or donkeys coming down with wool, or going up again with rice etc. at this time of year. The animals are terrified of a car, and one has to stop and often turn off the engine, before the animals will pass. We have been down to see His Highness this morning, and since then I have been listing all the china and glass. I have seized on an odd half hour before lunch in which to send this to you. I have to stop now, so send my best love to you all.
LJT
From LJT to Annette
The Residency
Gangtok
Sikkim
Dec 17th 1935
My darling Annette
When, I wonder, shall we hear the result of your exam – I feel so excited about it, though I suppose we must not expect so much considering how much you have been away from school in the past year.
It seems almost like a dream that I am back in Gangtok again – It was a bit of a scramble getting everything done that had to be done in Calcutta in the three days that intervened between getting Mrs. Williamson’s wire asking me to come to her and leaving Calcutta – The awkward part of it was that I had no idea how long I was going to stay, so had to leave everything ready in case I did not get back for Christmas.
As a matter of fact I shall be back in Calcutta on Christmas morning – of which I am really rather glad, as I did not much like leaving Dad alone for the Christmas holidays – but on the other hand, had Mrs. Williamson needed me I should have felt I must stay with her. Luckily a brother is coming to her. Its been a bit difficult getting letters written to-day for she likes me with her and likes to be talking and busy with packing, so as not to think too much about her terrible grief. Her splendid character and habit of thinking of other people before herself is standing her in good stead now and helping her to be brave and keep her self control –
I have crept away now, while she is busy reading a big air mail from home – but I have still a good many letters to write – so forgive me if I don’t write more to you
Best love, my darling
from
Mum
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
Dec 18th
My dear Annette.
It is futile to say how did you do in your exam for you’ll have written to tell us long before you get this. But you may with truth picture me as futile these days. One idea-ed anyhow: so engrossed for so long in the tedious detail of the Indebtedness Bill that I can think of nothing else. All the amendments are disposed of. Yesterday that ended: and I expected that it would be finished, passed, and forgotten. But so many people are anxious to say their say on the general debate which accompanies the third reading, that it had to be adjourned – and now it will not come on till Friday. They have been complimenting me in their speeches, laying the butter on thick: but I’m not best pleased because it is my shrewd suspicion that as passed the Bill will hardly work. The Bengali habit of loading up legislation with futile detail has probably downed me again.
What is a “shrewd” suspicion really? Here I am using it in surely a vulgar sense of strong suspicion, but that cannot be right. Probably it is a comment that one cannot make of oneself unless the facts have justified the suspicion and given grounds for praising its astuteness. Check it and let me know.
No news of Gangtok of your mother’s arrival. She should have reached there on Monday afternoon about lunch time: but presumably she wouldn’t have written till Tuesday and that would probably mean her missing yesterday’s mail. She has gone up to be company to Mrs Williamson, whose husband died so suddenly at Lhasa, and to assist her in packing her belongings. I hope that she will be back for Christmas: though I’m not at all likely to be in any very cheery mood for it even so. There is something beyond expectation exhausting about watching, or pushing a Bill through. We have been sitting morning and afternoon lately. I moved thirteen amendments on Saturday morning and spoke perhaps twenty times: concentration the whole time. So far as I see at present only two mistakes have crept in: and not particularly important.
Now I feel as if my batteries badly needed recharging.
Much love
Dad
Family letter from LJT
The Residency
Gangtok
Sikkim
Christmas Eve. 1935
My dears,
To-day I leave Gangtok, and plunge into the Calcutta Christmas festivities, so I am taking advantage of an odd hour here to write the family letter, as I know I shall not have a moment to-morrow, and on the 26th, which is mail-day, Kingdon-Ward is arriving, and ining with the Himalayan Club on the following night.
We have had a busy time packing, sorting and pricing things, and have finished practically everything. Peggy Williamson has been so wonderfully full of commonsense, and is such a good worker, that it has made it all as easy as anything of this sort can ever be. She comes down with me as far as the Teesta Bridge, about a three hour drive, to-day, and I go on to Siliguri, another two hours. Her brother arrives at Siliguri to-morrow morning, and she will come down from Kalimpong, where she is spending the night, and meet him at the Bridge, so it has all fitted in very well.
The new Political Officer arrived on Saturday, and seems an extremely nice man. He lost his wife last year, poor fellow, so Peggy feels him to be specially understanding and sympathetic. He had the Maharaja to dinner the night before the new P.O. arrived. He is such a shy quiet little man that it is always a little difficult to keep up a conversation with him. Luckily Capt Battye, the British Trade Agent in Tibet, is here and was acting Political Officer till Mr Gould arrived, and he and I managed to keep the ball rolling pretty well.
There is some Buddist festival on just now, which is celebrated by Lama dances, and we were all invited to go at 12 o’clock yesterday to see them and have lunch. The Lama dances are interesting, but like everything in the East they go on far too long. There are a series of different movements or motifs, each of which goes on for half or three quarters of an hour, and the dances go on for the best part of two days. If they would give about five minutes to each idea, and speed the whole thing up it would be a wonderful show. It is picturesque and interesting. The dancers, who are lamas, are dressed in wonderful brocade robes. In some parts of the dance they wear huge animal masks, in others they appear as demons, and in others as skeletons, while in some they wear immense black hats. In this place the setting is superb. The dance takes place on a flat ground outside the Maharaja’s new monastery, which stands on a spur running out from the main range of mountains. On one side stands the monastery, with its white walls, crome yellow roof and gilded pinnacles, the eves, the pillars of the portico and the elaborately carved window frames all painted in the gayest and most brilliant colours. Facing the monastery is an open pavilion, also with a yellow roof, gilded pinnacles and brightly painted wood-work, in which sits the band, monks in their high peaked red hats and claret coloured robes, playing their drums, bells cymbals, horns and ten-foot long copper trumpets. At one end was His Highness’s pavilion, a wonderful tent from Tibet, all covered with appliqué work, and furnished with sofas and arm chairs on which we sat in great comfort. Along-side it was an equally magnificent tent of the same type, which he told me his father had had made for the Delhi Durbah. Only the top of this had been put up, and instead of thick canvas sides, the walls were made of long trails of moss, through the veil of which one could see the blue hills, or the figures of the dancers, according to which way one was looking. In this we had an excellent lunch, including champagne. There were two more elaborately trimmed tents, facing ours, which were for the local gentry, according to their rank, and in between, the general public, in their gay clothes, squeezed in to get the best view they could. H.H. had got on the most lovely tsuba of Chinese brocade. It was so richly patterened in all colours and gold that one really could not say what was the shade of the background. Over it he wore a little short sleeveless coat of plum-coloured brocade, and he was wearing his best hat:- a grey Trilby with a wide band of pink and gold embroidery and gold lace. I have seen it several times before and it always amuses me. There were only the other two European couples who live in Gangtok, i.e. H.H.’s General Secretary and his French wife, and the doctor and his wife, as well as the quaint old missionary lady, Lady Mary Scott and our party from the Residency in the royal Pavilion and for lunch. We watched the dances, and chatted to one another, being regaled first with Tibetan tea, next with vermouth, then a large and excellent lunch, followed by coffee and liquers, and a little later by chungas of marwa, the Sikkimese drink which I have often told you about. About 3.30 we made our adieux, but the dancing went on till dark I fancy. Luckily it was a perfect fine sunny day with no wind, so we were not a bit cold, and the hills looked so clear and lovely all round.
I dont suppose I shall have time to add anything in Calcutta, but will tell you about our Christmas doings next week.
Best love to you all
LJT
From LJT to Annette
14.1 Rowland Rd
Calcutta
Dec 26th
My darling Annette
A lovely parcel has just come from you and Rosemary – and marvellous to relate, I did not have to pay any duty on it – I suppose because the things inside were home made –
We are so pleased with your presents – I had recently rejected all my old lavender bags so am very glad to have something nice and “smelly” to put amongst my clothes – for I think I shall use the pot-purri in my cupboard instead of putting it in a bowl.
I am longing to hear how the exam went. I’m glad you did not feel nervous when the time actually came
Sorry – there is not time for a proper letter this week. I got home yesterday morning and was on the go the whole day and till past mid-night – I hoped to have some time to-day – all sorts of urgent things cropped up to do with the Himalayan Club dinner for Kingdon-Ward – which takes place to-morrow night – so this is just to send my love and thanks.
Mum
Letter gone to Auntie Doris
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
Dec 26th 1935
My dear Annetta.
If my family have classified me as one of the poops or not too brights on the strength of my last exploit, there is no reply. If I have addressed the envelopes before putting the letters in them, perhaps the error would never have been.
I ceased work on Monday: so did everyone else but as a rule I work on holidays. My dropping of work was an hour earlier that otherwise it would have been because there came into my office a man of my year service and province whom I had not seen for nearly twenty three years and I took him out to Tollygunge for tea.
Tuesday I spent largely in running round shops buying things for Christmas lunch and seeking a present for your mother. Namely a long handled powder puff: difficult to come by: apparently people in Calcutta rely on ayahs for back powdering. Also for her birthday I bought scent, the man serving me said that he’d sold a thousand pounds worth of scent in the past two days. All the husbands in Calcutta making last minute purchases may be. The viceroy had a garden party in the afternoon. Not too gay as Mr Lothian whom I took with me in the car (he had an invitation all right) kept losing himself, being buttonholed by princes: he is the secretary at Delhi who deals with the question of princes joining the Federation. There was a mob of people there and it was not too easy to find anyone. On such occasions I circulate. Probably all my friends do the same, and the same way: so we do not meet.
The meeting of the Himalayan Club, dinner and lecture, which I summoned in your mother’s absence (though I am not even a member) looks as if it would succeed: 23 are coming to the dinner: which is not bad for a rush-event.
My fancy dress is almost ready: I shall look like the complete wow. Silver lace on blue coat with paste buckles: white breeches and stockings.
Much love
Dad.
Many thanks for your present which arrived just as I finished this. I am wearing it at the moment – for honour like a Tibetan.
From LJT to Annette
undated letter with no heading in with 1935 letters
My darling Annette
There is just no time to write – and this is only a line of greeting and a message of affection – My American traveller lady seemed to absorb my time at the beginning of the week and Ron and his friend have taken up pretty well all my time since Tuesday morning –
Now letters must go to post and I simply must have forty winks – after late nights and early mornings and no time to rest in the day – Thanks for amusing letters – and best love from Mum