1937 March
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
March 2nd
My dear Annette
Fate has not been wholeheartedly on my side in the matter of car driving of late. Her latest whim is to cause a babu to drive his car into my back wine in a traffic block yesterday and another to fall off his bicycle in front of me, and put my side lamp out of gear, this evening. Lucky that I was moving so very slowly (it was at almost the same spot as yesterday’s affair but this time we had just started moving on as the policeman waved on our line of traffic) for had I been going at any pace he would have been for it. He was a beginner and swerved across the road dodging a buffalo cart. Both incidents are in a way annoying: when my mudguard is crumpled it is really better to feel that I am myself to blame and then there is no real malice borne by anyone.
The morning’s adornment of the tree outside my window was a pair of bulbuls sitting side by side and waiting to warm up: later half a dozen bee eaters bronze green with a touch of reddish brown about the head, lovely and gay flyers. Yesterday or on Sunday a hoopoe appeared as we had tea on the lawn and disported itself pursuing insects on the grass. I said we had seen one on a tree a few days ago and that your mother perversely declared it to be a woodpecker – the light was dim: and lo! At that very moment there appeared in a tree above the tea table a veritable woodpecker, green and red, to point the contrast and to show how much less long and slender its beak was than the hoopoe’s.
On Friday I was all undone: my back ached and my legs were heavy: and I felt sure that Boike had destroyed me by cricking my neck too vigorously. I went to him that evening and he said it was all muscular pain, probably due to a chill. When we got home (after a drive in a blinding rain storm, extraordinary for the time of year) I took my temperature and found that I had fever. Next morning I stayed in bed; got up (but stayed in) towards evening and went to bed early. Sunday saw me much revived, but I remained on a couch most of the morning and on my bed in the afternoon till teatime.
Work went better yesterday and today. But bless me, I have more to do than six could manage.
March 3rd
I have touched up the writing a bit only to make it less legible. The secret of real bad writing is to write in bed – This I did last night. It might have been worse still had I thought of writing in the dark. The mosquitos were the cause of my retiring like that and by gum they are round me again tonight. Your mother has gone out and left me as sole bait.
I tried three thermometers for my fever and found them all to differ.
There was a fire in a jute press this morning: that is a large factory. Jute is what sacks are made of. Until I came out here I confused it vaguely with jade. But that as mere error.
Yours
With love
Dad
From HPV to Romey
Calcutta, March 3rd, 1937
My dear Rosemary,
The hot weather perhaps has started. I am wearing thin clothes and have the fan going a bit. The mosquitoes buzz around me, and this is unfair because all the windows are closed to keep them out. We smoke out the rooms, then shut them up at dusk, and it has worked fairly well. That is we now have two or three of the brutes, instead of a couple of hundred. On Sunday morning I had a grand hunt in my bedroom (Got one!) closing all the shutters, leaving open only the door into the bathroom (Got another!) (and another!) and driving all the mosquitoes into the bathroom with smoke. There, as the room is small, we could attack them with flit, and we killed hundreds. It was pleasant to have the room free of them all day. They came in at night time, though.
There was a big fire in a factory next to this place this morning. Nothing spectacular -- only dense smoke coming out of warehouses and people running about. But I passed one of the fire engines, which spent the day dealing with it, half way down Central Avenue with a wheel off and looking more marvelously cockeyed than anything ever seen before. The firemen must have been rather too keen to get back to supper. It must have been a bit of a problem to lift the weight of the engine and get another wheel on.
This reconciles me to having been bumped in the stern on Monday by a car and having had a side lamp smashed by a cyclist falling off yesterday evening. A youth less assured on a bicycle you rarely saw, and his courage must have been unusual for him to ride in Calcutta traffic. Your mother says that the bulls and cows standing and lying about in the Calcutta streets are the most amazing thing to foreign eyes, but I think that the lighting of fires casually on the sidewalks, for cooking or warming people or for odd jobs of soldering and such, is by far the quaintest of our quaint customs.
Seedy at the end of the week, perhaps with a chill (my back felt bust), I am better again now. There is too much work for me to manage comfortably, if they do not let things slide when I go the (got one!) two men who will share my duties in addition to their own, are not going to enjoy things. But they will let things slide, and not know that they are doing so.
Had a letter from Isabel Vaughan Stevens. She had been hunting and doing some jumps.
Much love,
Dad
From LJT to Annette
The Towers
Cossipore
March 4th 1937
My darling Annette
In the midst of all this Girl Guide activity I have thought of you many times and wondered how you were getting on with your exam! I wonder when you hear the results.
Your account of the small girl who wanted to run away is both amusing and rather pathetic – There must be some little kink in her which perhaps a psychologist could find out and deal with. If she belonged to me, I would take her to see a psychologist – To screw herself up to the pitch of wanting to run away, must have meant a good deal of unhappiness I should think – unless indeed, being a dull child, it is a desire to draw attention to herself, as is the naughtiness of so many little children –
I wonder whether you have been let in for editing a magasine – Once your exam is over, I should think a job of that sort would be interesting and very good practice – Such things as knowing how to correct proof properly – (which I did not learn till I edited the Sikkim Guide Book) are handy things to know about. Criticising other peoples style and construction often helps you with your own too.
Idris and I have been having entrancing conversations this week about what sort of areoplane he will buy when he comes to Europe in June and what places he wants to fly to in it – Russia and Lapland are two that have taken his fancy. He wonders whether I will be able to go with him. I wonder too. I mus’nt do things that would make Dad too nervous –
We had a fright last week when Dad developed a fearful ache in his back and felt rotten, but it turned out to be flue or fever and asperin and a day in bed cured him. I feared Dr Boike might have given him too much of a twist!
I intended to write letters in the garden after tea yesterday – but Idris was in to tea and Lewis Notley came home too – so we talked and walked round the garden and then went for a walk about half a mile along the river frontage of the factory. Lots of interruptions this morning – so letters must be short
Best love, my darling
from
Mum
From LJT to Romey
The Towers,
Cossipore Calcutta
Mar 4th, 1937
My darling Rosemary,
It is exciting about Brough having pups. I hope they won’t have grown up and gone away by the time we get home. I’m rather afraid they will have. I went in to see Mrs. Hance yesterday and found that she had got the most delicious dachshund puppy you ever saw. It must be about 12 inches long and it is black touched with brown points. Its skin has the softness and sheen of satin and it has adorable manners and expression. I fell completely in love with it. Mrs. Hance has brought it all the way from Mysore - three nights in the train and the poor mite was so frightened that she had to let it sleep, draped across her tummy. She said if she put it in its basket and turned out the light, it cried most pitifully.
The chaprassi has been must industrious and we have a fine collection of seeds for next year. I like growing my own seeds. They seem to germinate so well. I am doing all sorts of things in the garden and can’t visualize not being here next year. I do hope we come back.
It is a pity Richard’s holidays are so much earlier than yours this year. I am afraid he won’t have very much time with us.
You talk about “nasty stinks” in the chemistry. Are you doing chemistry yourself? I scarcely did any and in a way I am rather sorry - for I think it is interesting.
Best love, my darling,
From Mum
Family letter from LJT
The Towers
Cossipore
Calcutta
March 4th 1937
My Dears,
This has been rather a full week, one way and another. Kingdon Ward gave us a lecture on Himalayan Flowers on Thursday evening, and it was far better than the previous lectures he has given us. After the opening sentences, he just talked about his slides of flowers, and that is what he really knows and loves, and what people want to hear about from him. He is so fond of setting out at great length his theory that the true axis of the Himalaya runs on into China and does not sweep south towards Burma, as the geologists say it does. It is a subject in which most people are not interested, especially when he goes over each point about three times. It was a good meeting. A lot of people stayed on late afterwards talking and drinking, which is generally a sign that they have enjoyed themselves. The following morning we thought we were not going to get the little man off to catch his boat. It was sailing at 8 o’clock, and either he or Grindlay’s had been so casual about luggage arrangements, that he almost did not go. Idris took him to the boat, and says that he dithered about so long that he almost did not get on in time. Idris was back here to breakfast at 8.45, and just as we were finishing, he said “Shall we fly down the river and say good-bye to K-W?” For a moment it seemed to me an astonishing suggestion, but Idris worked out just about where the boat would be at various times. He said he would go to sign urgent letters and give a few orders, and we would leave the house at 9-45. We took off from Dum Dum at 10.15, and flying south for about twenty minutes, found the ship just where Idris had reckoned she would be, about two miles south of Budge Budge. We flew down and circled round and round her several times. Idris did not like to go as near as he could have done, because he had not said anything to the ship pilot, and thought he might be annoyed or worried if we flew too close. Lots of people waved to us, but we could not distinguish K-W, so shant know till we get a letter from him if he saw us. It was a very pretty morning flying. There were lots of clouds about. Being spring time, a great many trees are in the fresh tender green of new leaf, and the gardens are full of flowers, so that Calcutta looks about at its best. Swooping down and doing steeply banked turns round the ship gave one a deliciously bird-like feeling, and I throughly enjoyed my morning’s outing. Just as we got back to Dum Dum, a rather odd looking machine appeared in the air. We saw that it was a German Monoplane, with a very peculiar beat to its engine. When it landed we went across to look at it, and found it was one of the new diesel engine planes. The size and heaviness of the engines limit the cabin space, and though the machine did not look much smaller than the Dutch Mail, which happened to on the ‘drome at the same time, the cabin accomodation was tiny compared with the Dutchman’s. Luckily one of the German Vice Consuls was there, so we asked the Commander whether we could have a look at the cabin. The plane was on its way to Melbourn, and as I have seen nothing to the contrary in the papers, I presume it arrived safely. It is designed for speed, rather than beauty or comfort. Idris was at the Areodrome again in the afternoon to greet Col. Lindburg when he arrived with Sir Francis Younghusband from Bombay, but unfortunately I had an appointment in Calcutta, and could not be with him.
G.B. Gourlay left Calcutta on Saturday. His many friends would feel sadder if for a moment we could realize that he has gone. Herbert had a touch of fever on Friday and Saturday, so I made him stay at home on Saturday, and he could not come to the station to see G.B. and his wife off. Idris kindly took me along. The train went just before nine, and Idris and I went on to the cinema. We saw a very amusing American film called “Love on the Run”, which we throughly enjoyed.
Lady Baden Powell arrived here on Saturday, and I am afraid I cut the meeting at the Station and the Public meeting in the Town Hall in the evening, but on Sunday I was plunged back into the Guide World, which I have more or less forsaken. There was a big parade service on Sunday at the Cathedral, and after it all the Guide officers were entertained to tea by Lady Arthur, our Provincial Commissioner. After tea in the garden, we all went upstairs into a huge drawing-room, and Lady B-P talked to us for about an hour, and was most interesting and fascinating. I throughly enjoyed it.
Early the next morning I had to go to Belvedere to prepare everything for receiving the150 girls we were expecting early the next morning from the districts. I just got finished with that in time to go out to Garden Reach and help Mrs Jarrad, who has just retired from being Provincial Commissioner, with a lunch party of 45 people she gave to all the members of the Girl Guide Provincial Council, and the Local Association to meet Lady Baden Powell. The Council consists of influential ladies and the Guide Commissioners, and the Association, of heads of schools, parents, educational authorities, and people like the women who run the Y.M.C.A. and the Women’s Friendly Society. It was a beautifully run party, as everything is that Mrs. Jarrad does. Her husband is Agent of the Bengal Nagpur Rly, and they have a beautiful house standing on the riverbank about six or seven miles south of Calcutta. It is a huge place and used to be one of William Hickey’s country houses in the time of Warren Hastings. Its a good setting for a big party, just as this house is.
There was a brief interval in the afternoon when I did some Himalayan club work, and went home to attend a few household matters, and have a little rest before an early dinner, and going to Sealdah Station to meet twenty-seven girls who were arriving from the Surma Valley District in Assam, see that they got some food, and pack them into a bus to go to the Guide Pageant. The business was a little more complicated than it seems, for quite unexpectedly, relations of the Girls rolled up and wanted to take the girls away to stay with them. We could not possibly allow this, for nothing of the sort had been arranged. The carriages in which the girls travelled were put into sidings, and the Guides were to sleep there. However we finally managed to disentangle the girls from their relations, and shepherd them to the refreshment room and then into the busses. The Guide Pageant at one of the theatres, had been got up by one of our Indian Commissioners, and though bits of it were quite good, it was badly put to-gether, and there were frightful waits while scenery was changed, so that it did not finish till well past midnight.
The next morning was the day of the Rally at Belvedere. I had to be there at 9.30, and the first batches of girls had already begun to arrive. From then on I never ceased to be busy and running about till 6.30 in the evening, when I firmly left, though the Camp Fire was not over. I had hired an ayah for the day, and she had the job of giving back all the things that had been left under her care. I must confess I was pretty tired when I got home, and found it difficult to keep awake through dinner, but a long night’s rest put me right again, and I was quite prepared to go and clear up yesterday morning. Nothing seemed to have gone wrong, and nothing in Belvedere was damaged or broken. I was glad to get home by lunch time, and have a quiet afternoon for writing letters, and an evening in the garden. It was a particularly lovely evening too, with a glorious sunset across the river. The weather has settled again, but its still wonderfully cool.
At dinner time, Idris suggested that we should go in to see Laughton in “Rembrandt”. Herbert felt he would not be able to bear it, but Idris and I went and enjoyed it immensely.
Hugh and Phyllis Carey Morgan are back, but I have not seen much of them yet, for Phyllis as Chief Commissioner for India, has been so busy with Lady B-P. I am hoping they will come over to tea here on Saturday.
Now the Guide Rally is over I must give a little attention to sorting out our belongings, and packing away those things that are easily perishable which I am leaving here.
Best love to you all
LJT
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
March 10th
My dear Annette.
Chose extraordinaire parceque presque inaccoutumé – there’s journalese for you! From my much thumbed Dame – I have been re-reading your this week’s letter. So as to answer anything in it. But the only think that strikes a responsive chord (and what does that mean when you really look into it?) is your remark that your mind is a blank. You tell also of this and that and of lectures on journalism – but what a subject to study! Never yet have I seen news in a newspaper of which I had inside knowledge but the account was wrong: and others tell me the same. Perhaps it is as well, since almost all news thought worth printing is bad and the less true that is the better, maybe. I have none the less spent the best part of a week writing a defence of the Damodar canal and of the steps taken under my Development Act in those parts: and though there is nothing untrue in it, there is a great deal that is true omitted. From the highest motives. It is propaganda against the shameless lies and ignorances (as our Babus might say) of the Congress-supporters labour labour leaders and whatnots who have jumped at the chance of embarrassing Government by persuading cultivators not to pay my new tax. It is not an ordinary tax because in effect we make them a guarantee of crops of far greater value than the tax: but many of them have not got the crops because they didn’t get down to it soon enough – and it is a bit hard. Also I can’t say that I blame anyone for trying to dodge any payment although there are dirty dogs, because if they succeed in dodging payment all my schemes for improving things in general come to nothing.
Apart from work (and it is a hard matter to get one’s work done when one spends almost the whole time writing pap about canals) I have done something. Three times to Boike who says that I’m doing fine: and so I am though, tired out this evening: once to swim – but I didn’t do much: and once to the movies. Go to After the Thin Man if there is a chance. I thought it exceptionally good: especially a dog but there were other things as good as the dog and more to the point. Also to dinner after the show: a mistake on my part, for I hadn’t realised that this was intended. Not back till 11.30! – yes: a mistake. We had people to tea on Saturday. There was some woman to lunch on Sunday. I went to see Harry on Thursday: well, and the children well: but not so your Aunt Winsome who was in bed. Your mother developed a cold in the head some days ago and sneezes still. I have been rather lucky in dodging them: perhaps the injections worked that I had in Darjeeling.
Much love. I am off to bed.
Yours
Dad
From HPV to Romey
Calcutta, March 10th, 1937
My dear Rosemary,
An unusual event marks this week. I went out to see the movies at 6 and got back at 11:30. Of course I had no idea that things would work out like that. I had no idea that there was to be dinner in Calcutta after the show, that the dinner would not start till 9:30 or later, and that people would sit on and on afterwards.
The film was “After the Thin Man” and I found it amusing, very amusing. In fact I quite enjoyed the evening and survived it well enough, but it was awkward finding myself landed with a late night when I have refused any number of invitations to dinner on the excuse that I never dine out. The moral is that when asked to anything, I should ask more carefully what in involves. My host was Mr. Notley and this happened on Sunday when your mother was away flying.
We had people to tea on Saturday and by good fortune it was a lovely evening. But never have you seen anything like the number of mosquitoes that moved out of the garden into Mr. Carey Morgan’s car! I felt fair ashamed. They are thick these days. The bearer tells me every night how many hundreds he has killed -- and true enough he has, but it makes no apparent difference. Nowadays he smokes them out in the evening, then shuts all the doors and windows in our rooms, and so keeps them fairly clear till at bedtime we open the windows again.
This sitting-room, however, hasn’t got a door -- only a swinging half door thing which acts as a screen, and a lot of mosquitoes come in. Luckier than last week I have not been worried much tonight. Your mother is out to dinner. I am tired. And this is strange that I have hardly been tired (really fagged out, I mean) this whole week. Hurrah for Dr Birke!
Lots of work and I have got through lots.
Much love,
Dad
From LJT to Annette
The Towers
Cossipore
March 11th 1937
My darling Annette
Whenever I have thought of you this week I have also thought of “exam” – I am glad Mdelle Pinault advised you not to work too hard – I have quite a horror of people overworking for exams for I always feel that much of Dad’s indifferent health comes from that. I cant help feel that “Smell” must be several sorts of idiot to urge a girl who is already working all out to do even more. Its rather intriguing to have no idea when we shall hear the result of your exam! I wonder whether it will be out before we get home
Its really most cheering that Boike’s treatment seems to be doing Dad so much good. It will be wonderful if he arrives home fit and stays fit all through his leave.
At the Meeting on Internation Affairs last Tuesday, The League of Nations got a strong appreciation from General Lindsay – I was interested in his analysis of the subject but am too lazy to try to reproduce it here – The Bengali Poetess and Patriot Sarojini Naidu, spoke at the end of the Meeting She was not one of the speakers down on the programme, but was hauled up out of the audience – She is a clever and good speaker and began well – but she soon drifted off into boosting India and a lot of cheap tub-thumping oratory which was a pity – A Meeting of this sort is rather a change in Calcutta, and I throughly enjoyed it
I’ve finished “Inside Europe” – Do read it if you get a chance – and now I am reading Guedella’s “Hundred Years” – which I also find very interesting and informative, though it shows up my lack of knowledge of early and mid Victorian History most lamentably – I’ve only read about a quarter of his “Iron Duke” – and want to finish it sometime. Have you ever read it?
The mali, by a stroke of genius that can be nothing but accidental, has filled a Chinese potary bowl of a particularly lovely shade of emerald green, with a great posy of phlox drummondi in flaring cherry-colour and the effect is splendid –
Best love, my darling
from Mum
Family letter from LJT
The Towers
Cossipore
Calcutta
March 11th
My dears,
To-day is Herbert’s fiftieth birthday. It seem difficult to believe that he has attained such an age. I dont think he looks it.
At last I am beginning to think out arrangements for our homeward journey. I have got as far as having all the boxes cleaned and the locks tested, but that, so far, is about the extent of my preparations.
There has been quite a lot going on one way and another this week. Idris and I had a look in at the “Parliament of Religions” last Thursday. This “Parliament” is a sort of celebration of the Centenary of Ramakrishna, the Hindu Saint, who made such a valiant effort to bring the different religions into accord. The Monastery he founded, and the band of followers he left behind, I must often have mentioned to you. Sir Francis Younghusband has come out from England to preside at this Parliament. It sat from 8 a.m. till 10 a.m. and from 6 p.m. till 8 p.m. every day for a week. We picked an evening to go, when it sounded as if the speakers might be interesting, but I am sorry to say we found it extremely dull, and only stayed twenty minutes. How old sir Francis stuck it out for four hours or more a day, I dont know. The old boy must be somewhere about eighty.
On Friday night Percy Brown gave a lecture on “Nepal” to the Himalayan Club, and though we did not have a Club dinner, Dr Heron, who is now our Chairman, asked P. B. and myself and a few other guests to dine first, including Younghusband, who did not accept as he said that his Parliament often did not actually break up till nearly 8.30. He said he would come to the lecture, and as we were just helping ourselves to our savouries, Younghusband and Col Lindberg arrived, so we hailed them to Nuts and Wine with us. Col Lindberg sat next to me, and struck me as being a most charming person. He appeared to be quite simple and unspoilt, and looks most astonishingly young. He is very tall and slim, and has a fair “school-girl” complexion. We talked hard about areo-planes, as I knew Idris wanted Lindberg’s opinion of the present types of light plane available in England. I got a lot of interesting information from him, and when Idris arrived for the lecture, I was able to introduce him to Lindberg, and they had a long talk.
On Saturday came a letter from Fred Spencer-Chapman, the young man who has made so many trips to the Arctic, and who has been in Lhasa for the last seven or eight months as Mr Gould’s private Secretary. It was written from Phari in Tibet, altitude 14,500ft (and Darned cold!) as Mr Chapman said. He was following hard on the heels of the letter, and was due here on Sunday. Idris and I flew down to Chandipore, the place on the Orissa coast where his guns are tested, on Sunday, so I did not see Mr Chapman till Monday, and then we had a great talk. While in Lhasa he has taken over ten thousand feet of full-sized colour film, and in Calcutta this week his job is to check, arrange and cut and splice it, before Mr Gould comes down next week. He, Mr Chapman, has hired a room, with wires stretched across it, on which to hang these miles of film, and there he is spending most of his days. When the film is done, it is going to have a trial show one morning at the New Empire, to which I am invited and to which I am looking forward very much. Besides the big film, Mr Chapman has taken a lot of 18 cm Kodicolor film, and he was looking through these little films on Tuesday afternoon, and kindly asked Idris and myself to go and see them. The colour is an immense improvement on anything I have seen in the small amature films before, and they were most interesting and fascinating. He had one whole roll of flowers which has come out amazingly well. After an hour and a half looking at films, we had some tea and then, accompanied by Herbert, we had our first bathe of the season at the Saturday Club. I had to run off to say good-bye to Mr and Mrs Cooke, who were leaving for home the following day, and then on to a small dinner-party before a meeting with three speakers on “International Affairs”. It was a nice dinner party, and an interesting meeting, with far better speeches than I had expected.
It was lovely down at Chandipore on Sunday. We flew over our old haunt of Contai, and reached Chandipore at 9.25, having said we would be there at 9.30. Idris’s people met us, and had a lovely breakfast ready for us. We did not attempt to bathe, for it was the lowest tide of the year, and the sea must have been almost a mile away, over the great flat sand beach. We had a walk along the sands after breakfast, and later motored six or seven miles inland to the town of Balasore where we had lunch, and then back to Chandipore by about 4 o’clock. We took the air at 4.15 and landed at Dum Dum at 5.45.
Hugh and Phyllis Carey-Morgan came out to tea on Saturday, and stayed with us till past seven o’clock. Hugh has been suffering badly with rheumatism, but has been going to Dr Boike and is really better, but Dr Boike says that he wont be able to cure him completely, as the trouble is too long-seated.
I gave up yesterday morning to shopping and other jobs in Calcutta, which I have put off doing as long as possible, and then had lunch with Kitty Jenkins, and brought Milly Chaudhuri back here to tea. I like having Milly to myself for a long talk. She is a most interesting woman, and one of the few, I think I might say, the only, Indian woman I know who says what she thinks. Idris and I were dining in Calcutta with one of the High Court Judges and his wife, and they took us to see “After the Thin Man” after dinner. I don’t know whether you have all seen it. At any rate it is a good detective film, amazingly well acted by William Powell and Myrna Loye, and an enchanting dog. The plot is certainly complicated and there are a large number of clues to follow, which don’t get cleared up till the last moment. Poor Mrs Jack, who is stout and elderly, and almost totally lacking in grey matter, was quite unable to follow it. She kept on saying “ I never saw such nonsense” “There’s no sense in it” and so , and evidently when we said we thought it a very good film, she merely thought we were being polite.
Mrs Jack told us a pleasant story at dinner. A lady receiving a strange author of odd and somewhat ferocious appearance. Small daughter in attendance, is told to kiss the gentleman. She regarded him gravely for a minute or two, and then looking up at her mother said “You kiss him Mummy.”
The clouds have gone, and the Hot weather shows signs of beginning, but it is still astonishingly cool for the time of year. The wind is still in the cold-weather quarter of North West, instead of the Hot-Weather direction of South. I shall be writing only one more letter before starting for home.
I shall only be writing one more letter before starting for home!
Best love to you all
LJT
From HPV to Annette
Calcutta
March 17th 1937
My dear Annette.
Thank you for your airmail chit. It is the most difficult thing to remember birthdays by letter and I grudge no one the relaxation of attention which leads to the forgetting of mine.
Among my merits, if any, is not that of being able to write four letters each week without flagging. It is your turn to come last on this occasion: and if the others had had an abundant harvest of news from me you will get nothing but gleanings.
Thus. First the ruins have smitten my unbowed head. Ruins of my work. It appears that Government are getting away from under and, that support lacking they crack. The Governor has a pathetic idea that writing laws is sufficient in this country to get things done: which it is not. A law is no good unless some one uses it.
Secundo I continue to work at the schemes. From habit? perversity? or conscience? You may choose. And work pretty hard too. Malgré Boike I am tired.
Thirdly. it is not easy to make artificial humus by arranging for the growth of fungus in heaps of leaves and agreeable mixed muckings – and of nitrogen forming bacteria to follow. I spent Sunday having the first heap turned and turning bits myself with a fork: result certainty that the experiment had gone astray and a blistered (Patch skinned) thumb.
Fourthly Brother Harry and family have left tonight and will be with you before this. Or will they? in other words will you be home or still at school.
Fifthly Do you feel sad at leaving? I did at the last when I left Canterbury. It does not seem so long ago either. Only 31 years!
Sixthly I have continued to read the Linguaphone book. It curious that my efforts bring me no nearer to knowing anything about French.
Seventhly It is very hot. My letter is very dull. And I should be better in bed.
Therefore,
Much love
Dad
From HPV to Romey
Calcutta, March 17th, 1937
My dear Rosemary,
It was a pleasant surprise to me today to get your air mail letter. What enterprise! I much doubt if in your position I should have even thought of using the air mail, much less have actually used it.
Time passes quickly. The less happens the more quickly it passes, strange to say. The hot weather is with us and the mosquito. Each evening when the bearer shuts the windows, the air becomes dead and oppressive, in spite of electric fans and each evening your mother flings open the windows, the mosquitoes come roaring in, and ten minutes later we go off to bed to dodge them. Tonight however, she is out at a Himalayan Club lecture, and I am sitting with the windows closed.
A week tomorrow and we shall be off, and a week (or six days?) from the day when you get this and we should be home. My brother Harry and his family have gone this evening and I did not go to see them off! We went in to say goodbye yesterday and he particularly asked us not to come today for off-seeing purposes, but it would have been nice of us to go. Instead, after visiting the back doctor and having tea when I finished with him, I went to the Saturday Club for a bathe.
I have been doing much writing. Amusements nil, except the Saturday at Harry’s. I was much worried that afternoon, because up to 4 o’clock no news came of the arrival of your mother by aeroplane at Cooch Bilar and I knew that she ought to be there by twelve at the latest, as in fact she was.
Sunday morning I spent wielding a muck fork--turning over a heap of leaves and manure whereupon we hope to manufacture humus or vegetable mould in the garden. For some time I had the suspicion that it wasn’t working properly and the turning proved it. But where we went wrong I do not know. The idea is to encourage bacteria after fungus and perhaps we put too much earth on the top of the heap and so kept out the air. This making of artificial manure is one of the most interesting things and I shall perhaps hold forth on the theory of it when we get to Highways.
Much love,
Dad
From LJT to Annette
United Service Club,
Calcutta.
March 17th
My darling Annette
A few spare moments, between seeing some of Freddie Chapman’s film of Lhasa and a spot of work with my Himalayan Club clerk and now waiting for Dad to have tea before we go and bathe – The sense of coming home is so strong upon me now that it seems scarcely worth writing!
18th
Of course I was interrupted – one always is at the Club. It was quite a nice interruption this time. Freddie S-C. to say that he did not think he could spare time to come and bathe with us, as he had not arranged his slides for the lecture he was giving us after dinner. He stayed talking for ten minutes or so, all the same – almost until Dad arrived. Freddie is a nice young man. He has a quick intelligence – a complete lack of self-consciousness (a thing which I much like) and a tremendously whole hearted concentration and enthusiasm in whatever he is doing at the moment. Incidentally he must have the most remarkable physique to do and endure the things he has done.
The flying trip last week-end was really wonderful. There’s distinctly a thrill in landing where no one has ever landed before.
There are so many ends to finish up before I to – I’ve a crowd of Himalayan Club letters to deal with. Knowing I am going so soon heaps of people are writing for advice – so I’m not going to write more to you, my dear – Best love
Mum
From LJT to Romey
The Towers,
Cossipore, Calcutta
March 18th, 1937
My darling Rosemary,
Dad was awfully pleased with your Air Mail letter. It was cute of you to think of it. I was in a place on Saturday and Monday where I think you would like living -- that is Sardah- the Police College of which Mr. Taylor is now in charge. Everyone there keeps a horse, and they have a splendid pack of hounds for hunting. They are a cross between a greyhound and a bull terrier. Greyhounds are much too fast for jackal and won’t tackle, terriers are too slow. By mixing the two they have got a suitable dog and a very nice looking one too. There are about 10 dogs in the pack and they all have names beginning with ‘R’ like Rough, Riddle, Ransom and so on.
Mrs. Taylor was asking about you. The first time she ever saw you was in Jalpai. You had dressed up as a lady coming to call and when we asked your name you said “Mrs. Egg” and in reply to a question as to what your husband was called, you said “Eno--But he fell downstairs and got dead”--Mrs. Taylor still remembers the poor widow -- Mrs. Eno Egg!
Your half term marks seem quite good, although you were away from school in the San for a bit.
How sad it is about poor Zippy -- Uncle will miss her specially, don’t you think?
Best love my darling,
From Mum
Family letter from LJT (second half typed by Joan Webb)
The Towers
Cossipore
Calcutta
March 19th 1937
My Dears,
We shall be coming so soon on top of this letter, that it is going to be a short one, even though I have had a specially interesting week. After two postponements, Idris and I at last flew to Cooch Behar last Saturday, and spent the week-end there. The weather was still detirmined to be unkind, and there was a thick white fog on Saturday morning which delayed our starting by three quarters of an hour, so that we did not leave Dum Dum till 7.15 a.m. Though the fog had lifted off the ground, it was lying in a fat layer only a few hundred feet above the ground, and we shot through it into the sunlight, and found ourselves floating above a silver sea. This layer continued for about forty miles north, and I studied the map carefully so as to be able to pick up our position when we could see the ground again. I was able to do so quite easily. Our old friends, Bobbie and Coralie Taylor were waiting for us at Sardah Police college on the banks of the Ganges. We landed on the parade ground, and they had petrol for the plane, and tea for us all ready. Having replenished both plane and humans, we took the air again, and kept plum on our compass bearing for Cooch Behar. It took us one and a half hours to Sardah and another two to Cooch Behar. Landing at Cooch Behar was not too easy, for though the polo ground is a big one, it is ringed by very tall trees. I was glad I was in the hands of such a good pilot. Idris side-slipped over the trees and did what is known as a pank-cake landing, most beautifully. The Resident and his wife, who are old friends both of Idris and myself, were there to meet us, as well as the young Maharaja and his brother. A big shamiana had been rigged up with the idea of sheltering the plane, but it was impossible to get it in without folding the wings, and even so it was difficult, so as the weather was beautiful, we just picketed A.A.D. down and left her in the open, with a large force of state police on guard. When we came back in the afternoon, to mark out the proposed landing ground, we found an enormous crowd round the plane, and some enterprising person had set up a pan and cigarette shop! It was interesting mapping out a landing ground, and it looks as if they are going to make a very good one.
The party from the palace come in to the Wallis’ for cocktails, and we all went to the palace for dinner. The Palace is a beautiful place, and well furnished. I enjoyed the evening very much. The young Maharaja who is (I think) only twenty, has charming manners, and is easy and interesting to talk to. Mr Wallis says that at present he is behaving very well, and seems keen on his state, and in doing things for its improvement. It is to be hoped he will keep straight. With his ancestry of a father and grandfather who both drank themselves to death, and a mother who could drink most men under the table, it looks as if he will need a strong character to keep clear of such things himself. I think he has plenty of character if he only uses it in the right way.
The following morning we set off at 7 o’clock to find Chilipata in the heart of the Jalpaiguri jungles. We had no map with the place marked, and I did not know the approaches from the south. We got a bit too far west. However we struck a river I recognised, and I guided Idris from there to Chilipata. We were hoping to land on a big area which is devoted to growing thatch grass for the forest villages, the said grass having been cut about a month ago. There was a reasonable amount of room, but from the air the ground looked as if it might be pretty rough. Idris swept down a few feet from the ground, but went up again, and I wondered whether he was going to give up the idea, but he circled round, and landed. He had really come down to look at certain plants which looked rather tall and which he thought might hit the propeller. Having satisfied himself that they were not a danger, he landed.
The forest ranger hurried to meet us full of excitement, and said “Madam, did you hear the elephants yelling?” He had some forest guards to take care of the plane, and crowds of people began coming from all directions in the most amazing way. He went off to the little forest bungalow, after taking a walk over the “landing ground”, and soon after we set off on a couple of elephants to have a goom about in the forest. We had no luck again about rhino. It was too late in the day for such a late season of the year, and they had all gone off to their mud wallows. I saw lots of deer and birds and pig, and a baby porcupine. We got back to the bungalow about 12:30 and had lunch, and were just having a rest in long chairs, when a party of planters from a garden about ten miles away to the north, turned up, having heard the news that we were there. We had a long talk, and then Idris took the ranger up for a short flight, and we left for Cooch Behar about 3:45. It only took us about 15 minutes back to the town, but we circled round for another ten minutes or so, while I took photos. It was a wonderful day! The following morning we had an uneventful flight home, stopping for breakfast with the Taylors at Sardah.
Since then my time has been divided between preparations for going home, and looking at Freddie Spencer Chapman’s marvelous films of Lhasa. At 2:30 on Monday he was having a “trade show” of the full sized black and white film at the New Empire. I found it most thrilling. It did not finish till about 4:30, and then we went off and bathed, and back to tea at the U.S. Club, where we met Herbert. On Tuesday I had an interesting tea party: old Sir Francis Younghusband, Mr. Van Manen of the Asiatic Society, Percy Brown and Freddie S-C. We got old sir Francis really talking about his expedition to Lhasa. Yesterday I again went to see more Lhasa film, which had only just got back from being developed in England, and in the evening we had a Himalayan Club dinner to Freddie, with Sir Francis presiding. Freddie showed us his slides and a film of his Greenland Expedition and gave an extremely good lecture about it. A crowd of people stayed on afterwards, and did not break up till about midnight or past.
Oh dear! This was meant to be a short letter! Anyway, I am not going to write any more now.
Best love to you all,
LJT