1939 February
Family letter from LJT
Chinsurah
Bengal
Feb 2nd 1939
My Dears
There is a lot to write about this week. The tour with the Forest Committee has been full of interest from many points of view. I have never before lived in such close contact with Indians, and Indians coming from widely different classes and creeds. Mr Mondal, the Hindu Pleader, had an engaging, good humoured personality, and the natural good manners of the well-bred Hindu gentleman. Mr Haq, on the other hand, came of the nouveau riche East Bengal Mohammadens, from whom most of our present ministry come. Personally he was quite an agreable man, but his manners were anything but polished at the beginning of the week. He would slouch in his chair at table, with his achkan (a sort of frock coat that buttons tight up to the neck) unfastened to half way down his chest. It was interesting to see how his manners improved as the days went on. I suppose he saw how not only the Europeans behaved, but also the Maharaj Kumar and Mr Sen. He probably had never been on terms of any sort of intimacy with Europeans before.
During the long drives which we did day after day, there were opportunities for many talks with the Maharaj Kumar and Mr Sen, and during walks in the forests and picnic lunches, which I arranged for the party almost every day, there was plenty of chat with the others, which I found extremely interesting.
On Wed of last week, the day after I last wrote, we had a long day out. We left at 8.30 a-m and drove for a couple of hours, over very bad roads, across an undulating reddish country side, where big tanks (ponds) had been made on top of the bare ridges, so that water could be carried down the slopes to water the rice fields, from which the crops have now been cut. In many places we passed areas that had evidently once been forest. The people of the district are mostly the aboriginal Sonthals, jolly simple black folk, who hunt with bows and arrows, and who, when they have cut their own crops, move off with their wives and babies and dogs, to hire themselves out as labourers to the well-to-do people in lower Bengal, where the crops are cut later. For carrying the household goods they wear a wooden yoke across the shoulders, with two baskets suspended from its two ends. These are filled sometimes with the household goods, and sometimes a baby sits or sleeps contentedly in one of them. We passed Shantiniketan, the University which was started by the poet Rabinranath Tagore, and which has been a centre of culture in Bengal for many years. Herbert and I are going to pay it a formal visit later on, so we did not stop, but went on to a rest house near the neighbouring town of Bolpore, a flourishing little metropolis, with a great many rice mills. We dropped the servants and the food baskets there, and went on another ten miles or so to see a biggish stretch of Jungle, where we made several halts, and walked in to examine the trees. After lunch at the Bolpore Rest house, two men came to answer questions bout these Forests, both of them relatives of Lord Sinha, whose home is near there. They were both very nice and intelligent, and both said that they would be thankful if Government would take over the management of the forest, for it was the usual tale of joint owner-ship, and consequent disagreement about any policy of good management. We talked so long that we were rather behind our programme in starting for home, and only got in to Suri just before five o’clock, when we had to do a rapid change and go straight off to a tea-party given to us by the Town Club. We met a good many of the same gentlemen as we had met the previous day, including one amusing and quick-witted zemindar, who was a good conversationalist.
Our departure from Suri on Friday had to be an early one, for trains are few and far between and slow. We caught a train at 6.45, and took breakfast of hard-boiled eggs and cold wild-duck (Shot by the Kumar’s private secretary the previous day) with us in the train. At Ondal Junction, on the Grand Trunk road, our cars were waiting for us, and we drove to Ranigunge, the oldest town in the Bengal Coal Fields, which we used to know well in our Asansol days. Here there were many witnesses to be examined, and I settled down to a quiet morning’s letter writing, but had not been at it long, when I was carried off to spend the rest of the morning with the wife of manager of a big paper mill. They were pleasant people, and gave me some interesting information about experiments they were making in growing the types of bamboo that they use for the pulp, on neighbouring waste ground. Our nice old Mr Mondal had asked to be allowed to give the committee lunch at Ranigunge, for his home is close by in Asansol. He did it nicely, but gave us far too many courses, which took a long time Our next move was to cross the Damoder River into the District of Bankura. We did not take our car over, as we doubted whether it would manage the depth of water, and the softness of the Sandy bed. The Kumar asked Herbert and Myself to go in his Ford V eight, and bullock carts with straw on them were provided for the rest. There were heaps of coolies to push us, which they did with great gusto and loud shouts. On the far bank the Collector of Bankura District was awaiting us with his own car and a bus. To our horror we found that young Ahmad, the Secretary, had slipped, and not sent Mr Haldar the detailed programme, only telling him that we were arriving at Ondal at 9 o’clock, with the result that the poor man had been waiting for us since 10. o’clock. We all felt terribly grieved about it, and the Kumar and I decided to hurry to Bankura as quickly as we could to apologise to Mrs Haldar, with whom we were staying, and to the Superintendent of Police with whom the Kumar was staying. It was a splendid road and we nipped over it rapidly, not waiting at any of the places where witnesses had been called, but only telling them that the Forest Committee were coming. Herbert had remained with Mr Haldar, and he, and the rest of them, did not reach Bankura for at least an hour and a half after we did. It was just a quarter to four when we reached the Haldar’s house. Mrs Haldar had luckily had news from the Kumar’s Secretary who had come straight through in the morning, that we were lunching in Ranigunge, so she had not been worried about us. It had been a charming drive along a straight tree-shaded road, with groups of jolly little hills away to the east. The Collector’s house in Bankura is attractive too. It stands on a low ridge, looking south, and has a sort of terrace garden in front. You can scarcely understand the pleasure of ups and downs in a landscape if you have not lived for years on a perfectly flat plain. The Haldar’s are old friends of ours. I have known them in a vague sort of way since I first went to Calcutta. Mrs Haldar’s late father was one of the leaders of the Brahmo Samaj (Reformed Hindu) and a great advocate of women’s education. Mrs Haldar was his eldest child, and apparantly his constant companion, so that besides a college education in Calcutta, she had the advantage of being in frequent contact with the most advanced and brilliant thinkers of that remarkable group. She herself is an extremely intelligent and charming woman, and her daughter Lakshmi, aged 21, is both pretty, charming and clever, really a delightful young thing. She was at Bedford College (London University) and came out for the Long Vacation last year to see her father, and went down with enteric just before she should have returned. Was’nt it bad luck? She seems fit again now, but it would be difficult for her to pick up in time for the exam this year, so she is working with some of the Professors from the College in Bankura, and will go home next Autumn, and start the Autumn term. I throughly enjoyed the four and a half days we spent with the Haldars. They were delightful hosts, they made us feel throughly at home, and most comfortable, and gave us the impression that they liked having us.
Time is flying and I am letting myself be carried down all sorts of side tracks! I must hurry on!
A morning of examining witnesses by the Committee on Friday, gave me a chance to comply with a request from the Girls School, that I should visit them. It was a cheerful place with about a hundred pupils. They garlanded me with a great rope of copper-coloured marigolds, one of the prettiest garlands I have every had. After an early lunch we set off in several cars for a place in the south of the District. At intervals witnesses were to be examined, and jungles looked at. We wondered at first why arches of welcome and flags and chairs placed under awnings, had been arranged everywhere, but it was explained that we were now amongst the estates of the Maharaja of Burdwan, and these were all in the Dumar’s honour. Mrs Haldar and I were in his car, and we later learnt that the populace had been greatly excited, thinking that we were his two wives! It was a jolly afternoon. Every one seemed in good spirits. A shower of rain had laid the dust. The country was pretty, and the local people seemed nice. We came back by a different route, and at one place, a hospitable gentleman had prepared tea for us, which was welcome. When the witnesses are talking and the members of the committee asking questions, it is interesting to watch the expressions on the faces of the crowd gathered round. Amongst the throng at this place was a man with a bow and arrow, who wished to demonstrate his prowess in shooting, and did;- very badly. He seemed a little crestfallen at the result himself, and explained that his bow was not sufficiently tightly strung. He got 8 annas, and another man did a few simple contortionist tricks, for which he also received a reward, before we went our way back to Bankura.
On each of the other three days we left at 10 o’clock in the morning, and took lunch with us. We visited roughly the other three half way points of the compass, Sunday’s drive being particularly nice, for we got up amongst the little Hills in the North East, visited a spring at the foot of a big hill, where after witnesses had been examined, a party of Sonthal girls did a dance, while their men played on flutes and drums. There is not much to the dance. The girls link arms and the long line advances and retires, swaying slightly, without, as far as I could see much variation. A couple of drummers were much more active, pacing, turning and twisting in front of them, as they thrummed their two ended drums. Lunch was in a tiny rest house on top of a small hill. We picniced, sitting on the floor of the verandah, for there were only two chairs in the small room. There had been some merry talk going on about the fact that there are half a lac of gods supported by the Burdwan Raj, at the cost of a lac and a half of rupees annually. While I was serving out the food at lunch: (The numbers of the Committee had increased by now for we had been joined by another Mohammaden, another Hindu, and an Englishman from the Midnapore Zemindari) one of the India members, said “We have a Takur with us now” “Who?” enquired someone “Why Mrs townend” replied the first speaker “she must be a god for she feeds and cares for us”, Turning to the Kumar, I immediately said “May I have a place amongst your half lac of deities, and get Rs 1 per month for maintenance? The Kumar replied that if I put in an application in the proper form, he would see that it had proper attention.
Herbert had unfortunately again begum suffering from pains and indigestion, brought on I suppose by a return to normal diet, and also by great fatigue. This spoilt his enjoyment, and made work rather a burden.
Another interesting day, was the last of our visit, when we went to a place called Bishnupore, which was for hundreds of years the capital of an independent Hindu Kingdom, which remained independent of the Moguls long after they had taken the rest of Bengal and Bihar and which eventually only paid a tribute through an agent, the King himself not being compelled to go and do homage. Later it was one of the few places with withstood the attacks of the Mahratt-as. Of its glories in the way of forts and palaces, little remains, except a couple of good red stone gates, and mounds where the old walls ran, but several fine temples have survived, notably one built in the early seventeenth century of fine carved red brick. The picturesque and amorous life of Krishna, in a setting of the local activities of the people, covers every inch of the exterior of the temple, and the spirited carving looks as fresh as if it had been chisseled out and baked yesterday. How different from the rotten bricks they make in Bengal now. There is also a huge old gun, about which a nice legend is told. The King of that time was a good king, but he did not like fighting, so when he was attacked, he retired inside his fort, and prayed to the local god, Madan Mohan, to deliver him and his people. The God nobly came up to scratch, and fired the gun himself, so that the enemy was routed.
Mr and Mrs Haldar and I lingered behind the others in the afternoon, and visited the silk shop, which deals in the locally grown and woven silks. What was once a big industry, still carries on, and they make nice stuff at reasonable prices. I bought two lengths of a sort of tussore, which I thought would make nice knock-about dresses, and which they say washes and wears extremely well.
On the way back from the ruins, I was with the Kumar and outside his estate office there was a great banner of welcome, “Welcome and Long Life to our Maharaj Kumar”. He asked if I would mind stopping which he went in for a moment. As he stood inside the court-yard, not I may mention on the dias covered with red carpet which had been prepared for him, from the windows of the upper story of the house floated down flower petals and grains of puffed rice, as a sign of blessing. Unfortunately they fell all over the platform, and not on him. I hope the ladies behind the curtains were not too disappointed.
In the days when the Bishnupore Raj had begun to decay, they were defeated in battle by the Burdwan Raj, and a big slice of their domains was taken. Later, when they had decayed completely, and the remaining estates were put up to acution, most of the property was bought by the Burdwan Raj. The present descendent of the kings, lives in a little thatched house in the town, receiving a pension of something like Rs 100 per month from the British Raj. The Burdwans are thinking of giving him a little more. How are the mighty fallen!
This was the day of our departure, and we did not have much spare time, for we got back just before five o’clock, and there was a tea-party of some of the local gentlemen and one or two of their wives at 5 p.m. where I heard a lot of interesting talk about agriculture and irrigation. We dined with the S.P. of police and his wife, and left by train at 11 p.m., arriving in Calcutta about 5.45 a.m., and motoring straight home. Luckily yesterday and to-day were holidays, so Herbert has been able to take some of the rest he badly needed. He was very tired. I think he feels better to-day.
The garden has come on a lot in our absence. Dahlias are looking lovely, and all the English annuals are bursting out.
A great spurt of work for the Himalayan Club has been keeping me busy. I was at it practically all day yesterday.
Best love to you all
LJT
From LJT to Annette
Chinsurah
Feb 7th 1939
My darling Annette
You seem to live in the same sort of state that I do – i.e. always having rather more things you want to do than you have comfortable time for. Taking a certain amount of public responsibility is a good habit, I think, even when it is in such a mild form as recommending books or complaining about food.
I am interested in your accounts of the meetings at the Labour Club. When I was staying with Helen Johnston in Edinburgh, I browsed amongst many of her Left Book Club Books, and so often they seemed to “froth at the mouth” – and give so solid reasoned basis for what they asserted – A book about Spain, for instance, painted Franco’s people as fiends and the Government – (or one should I suppose say, ex-government) side, as long suffering saints – Said I to Helen – “but I’ve no dout just as convincing looks could be written on the other side – How do you know this is a true picture” – A rather pitying smile and “that’s the sort of argument you people always use” was the reply Well, it seems to me so obvious that in that sort of case there’s probably little to choose between the two. It would be so much better if they would confine themselves to the politics behind it. Then they might have a case to argue. The only book which I have read (partly!!) of G.D.H Cole’s seemed reasonably put – I’d like to hear him speak.
I’m so glad to hear that Christina is well and comparatively strong again.
* * * * * * * * * *
Dad arrived back from Calcutta at this juncture and we had dinner – Now I feel vastly sleepy and shall soon go off to bed. Dad is reading out snippets from a book of a collection of extracts from letters and diaries and such of people connected with Court circles during the late Georgian and early Victorian times – How astonishingly coarse they were apart from being grossly immoral.
These tit-bits of reading make any coherent writing difficult – so I bid you good-night my dear
Best love
Mum
From LJT to Romey
Chinsurah, Feb 7th, 1939
My darling Rosemary!
Yes! I’d love you to go to Ireland, not only do I like you to enjoy yourself, but it is interesting to stay with people in different surrounding and to hear different sorts of things talked about. It’s sad that by doing one nice thing one so often has to miss another, but it’s as well to be firm with oneself about returning. Once the choice has been made, dismiss the other possibilities from the mind, as far as possible, certainly from the lips!
If you go to Ireland, you well have done something that I never have. I am not sure whether you need a passport. Make sure of this, and if so, see that yours is in order. I hope you will have a good time and decent weather. Let me know the address and the dates when you will be there so that I can write to you direct. Mrs White, the American Consul General’s wife, was here when your letter came and I read out the bit about your friend being the daughter of the American Consul in Cork. She asked if I knew his name, because the people in the Diplomatic Consular Office so often knows one another. The American Ambassador to Eire is a friend of his.
I got quite excited reading your description of playing goal in your hockey match. It certainly is a nuisance that being on the team so often prevents you going out. It’s not extravagant of you to go to the various things you have mentioned. They all seem “worthwhile” sort of things, and anyhow, you were shut up a long while last term. I hope the women’s hockey match at the Oval will be an exciting game and that the weather won’t be too unpleasant.
Isn’t it good of Mrs Petrie to have Nannie to stay? Nannie seemed so happy about it. She will be interested to see you again, having cared for you from almost the minute you were born.
Best love to you darling,
From Mum
Family letter from LJT
Chinsurah
Bengal
Feb 7th 1939.
My dears,
Since writing to you last Thursday, my time seems to have been constantly occupied. I had a very long and busy day in Calcutta on Friday. I wanted to get a lot of things fixed up for the Himalayan Club, and I was also again involved in difficulties over Miss Baboneau and her companions. The new woman had only been installed a few days, and when I went to see the old lady on Thursday evening, I learned that the latest arrival had gone sick, and the doctor had said that she ought to lie up and rest for a few weeks. She, poor soul, the recently made widow of a man who had drunk away all their money, was practically penniless, so I promised to go to St Mary’s Home and try to get her a bed there, and also to fetch a friend of hers to look after Miss Baboneau. I wish I could persuade the old lady to go into a home herself! I believe companions are going to be a constant difficulty. My Himalayan Club jobs took all the morning, and finished with lunch with Reggie Cooke. We are trying to work out rather a ticklish scheme of Insuring Sherpa Porters against accidents while climbing, and I have been gathering opinions from many sources on the subject, and wanted to get some clear ideas worked out before the Committee meeting.
In the afternoon I did a little shopping, arranged for the bed at St Mary’s Home, and found the new companion. I managed to get my jobs done, in time to go to see Deanna Durbin in “That Certain Age” at six o’clock. I enjoyed it, but not as much as her earlier films. Later I met Idris, who had been at a cocktail party, and we went back to Cossipore for dinner, and so home about 11.30. I had the exciting news for Idris that we are now getting squirrels to come close to the breakfast or tea table, and I am sure it wont be long before we have them feeding out of our hands. Indris had a lot to tell me about the Air Display which he was running in aid of one or two charities, and which seemingly went off very well.
The Squirrels have been attracted to the part of the garden in which we have our meals, by the splendid blooming of a silk cotton tree. Its huge red, fleshy blossoms are full of honey, and insects and birds and squirrels come in numbers to sip it. I laid a trail of little bits of bread from one of the squirrel’s roads to the tree, to our table, and on the third day the squirrels were waiting long before we arrived. They are amusing with their antics!
We had guest here all day Sunday. Dr Heron and Anina Brandt arrived about 11 o’clock, and I took them round to see the Dutch Church and General Perron’s House. One of the High Court Judges, Sir Leonard Costello, brought my dear friend Mrs Stanley in time for lunch, and a young man from the Cameronians, also came for the official reason that his company are going to do a flag march through Burdwan District. He turned out to be one Critchely, and engaged to Joyce Trenchard’s friend Joan - -somebody. I’ve forgotten the name, though I know it well. Dr Heron and Anina had to go after lunch, and so did the young man, and then the Judge and Mrs Stanley and I went off the see the Bansberia temples, and we had a lovely time. They are both like me and love poking about and seeing old places and finding out their history. Having seen the temples, and the old Raj-House with its moat and gateway, and having asked a great many questions about its history from the nephew of the Raj family, who could tell us nothing, we went and explored an old Government house, where Warren Hastings used to stay, and grieved that so fine a house standing in so good a position should be allowed to fall into decay. We flung open doors and windows and in imagination repeopled the rooms with personalities who might have been there. Next we saw Bandel Church, with its tower holding ‘Our Lady of Prosperous Voyage’, and its cloisters and its copy of the grotto at Lourdes. Bandel Church was first built in 1599, and there are lots of nice miraculous stories connected with it, but the nicest I have heard lately about this part of the world is of an older time and a place just a mile or two north of Bandel. It used to be a great town in early Hindu days, and as usual in Hindu History, it was conquered and domineered over by a mohammaden conqueror, who settled himself still a little further to the North. Hearing of a much venerated Hindu Saint, who was living at Satgoan, he thought he would get the better of him, so he went to visit him, riding on a tiger. The saint happened to be sitting on a wall cleaning his teeth at the time of the visit, and seeing the rider on the tiger approaching, he patted the wall upon which he was sitting, and said “Let us go forward and meet these people. Whereupon the wall trotted forward. When the two strange riders had approached close to one another, they dismounted from their strange steeds, and embraced, and the Mohammaden was so impressed by the power of the Saint, that he conceived a respect for the Hindu religion, and learnt Sanscrit, and wrote some hymns to Mother Gunga.
No content with our sightseeing, we turned into the Imambara (the big Mohammaden College) and took a quick look round, and did not get back to tea till 5.30, to find that Herbert had been having a pleasant tête a tête with his squirrels.
Poor man, he is awfully tired still, and unluckily he had to go to Calcutta for a meeting of the Jute Committee on Monday. As I had everything ready for my Committee meeting in the evening, I was able to go to see “Prison Without Bars” at 3 o’clock. Herbert was at his meeting in the afternoon, but he and Harry went to see the Mikado at 6 o’clock, while I attended my committee meeting, and we both dined with Harry and Winsome, who have just moved into the Firm’s big house. It is a large and very nice mansion. Winsome says after their small flat it is quite difficult to find one another in this so roomy place.
More unfortunately still Herbert had to go into Calcutta again to-day, for an urgent Cabinete Meeting, held because there is a lot of trouble going on in Burdwan District about non-payment of rents. The American Consul General and his wife, Mr and Mrs White, came up to lunch, and I was disappointed to hear that unexpected work had come in for Mr White, and that they would have to go back immediately after lunch. then the bright idea came to us that Mr White should go in with Herbert, and leave Mrs White and the car here to explore the sights with me. She is a delightful and extremely intelligent American, and was most appreciative of everything. Its always a pleasure to be with her. Herbert will be back for dinner.
Although its only Tuesday evening, I am writing because I go into Calcutta to-morrow to stay with Winsome for three nights, and I know it will be difficult to find time for letter writing. We have a Himalayan Club lecture to-morrow night, and I am dining with one of the senior Calcutta policemen on Friday, to see demonstrations of Yoga poses. I am looking forward to it with great interest.
I was sorry to hear of the second bout of snowy weather and of the damage done to electric light cables and to water pipes.
Best love to you all
LJT
From HPV to Annette
Chinsurah
Feb. 7th. 1939.
My Dear Annette (the letter is a carbon copy and ‘Annette’ is hand written in ink so probably sent to Richard and Romey as well)
“You shall apologise to none” said Jack (or perhaps ‘our hero’?) ------------ But I do apologise. Not since Christmas have I written to anyone, unless it is not a dream that I wrote once to Rosemary, that singularly grown up child. It is to be said also that I was nearly moved by indignation to write to her a considered rebuke, which would have been merited; for she spoke of having had a hectic day. Let the damsel learn that hectic means habitual; hectic flush or hectic gaiety or even (though no one has ever yet said such a thing, meaning it) hectic bellyache such as I have; but where does a hectic day make sense? In the a
Arctic, perhaps, where the day carries on for six months, if it really does. This is a matter of the more importance because not only does the misuse of the word betray a habit of reading the Daily Mail (perhaps substitute ‘Express’ for Mail) (which suffers maybe from hectic vulgarity) but it is a matter for constant, or hectic disagreement between your mother and my dear self, since she has no proper feelings in the matter and even says that everybody misuses it ‘and why shouldn’t they?’. Why not indeed? Except that vast sums and hectic efforts have been devoted to the task of making it aesthetically impossible for any of you to perpetrate such a thing. As a corallary, you can now discourse on the meaning of chronic.
I have been much plagued with a ghost noise coming from behind a picture. Like that of the plungings of some fierce beast such as a bat or mouse. Traced at last, it is the sound of a tiny cricket bounding with a sort of repercussion against the paper backing of the frame. Strange.
Your mother has gone to Calcutta for three nights. Himalayan Club lecture on the first; a quiet dinner on the second; and a yoga-demonstration on the third. That is why I have the energy to write this. Not much energy on my part lately. It was an error to get food poisoning; it was an error to go out on tour after it before Strength returned to me; and it was an error to do any work when I was out. Since my return I have been very like to the poet Shelley, sitting down like a tired child and fit to weep. As ever at such times, my thoughts turned to chucking this God-forsaken country and leaving you all in lurches. What is the lurch of which one speaks so glibly? . . . . . . . Five minutes off while I looked it up. How very extraordinary or rather how little expected by me! However I will not spoil your pleasure by copying what the Conkeye says. Your mother’s reaction was more practical. She bought a bottle of the Livermucks and a bottle of a filthy iron-tonic; which I am chagrined to find are doing me a power of good.
Two days ago, lamenting bitterly, I went down to Calcutta for the Jute Committee meeting. As I left this house, almost, there came to me a letter saying that the Congress have started a no-tax-payment campaign in the Damodar Canal area, with boycott and incitement to the Ghandian brand of non-violence which means stirring up the ignorant to murder and saying afterwards that the poor loons had misunderstood the pure doctrine. So I dropped in on the Chief Secretary to put him wise to it and to ask that we might be told whether the Ministers would lie down and accept the treatment proper for those who do so, or would let us get on with the job,----- for a change. It was an error to do so. For as I left the building I bumped into Naz and Bijoy and was ordered to come down to Calcutta again yesterday to attend a Cabinet meeting about the emergency.
After the Jute meeting and tea, I went to see the ‘Mikado’ film, taking Harry. Goodish; but it is all wrong to expect that one can space out a play by pushing in scenic effects and cutting up the dialogue or the songs into gobbets without complete destruction of the play. It is not by accident that the writer originally put this and that together just as he did. The same criticism applied to the ‘Romeo and Juliet’ effort on the films. In this your mother does not agree; producing the totally irrelevant argument that I would not go and sit through the play anyhow. However let me tell you all that I have very sure judgment as a critic; and the proof of it is this, that though I am intolerant of the efforts of critics and demand of them much, yet my own criticisms pass my tests. Q.E.D. as all of you except Richard (out of pure habit of contradiction or hectic contrariness (but the adjective, my Rosemary, is redundant) willwillingly admit. That is a typing mistake, but makes a good word. Dinner afterwards at Harry’s. Weary when I went in, so much so that I reduced your mother to a despair matching my onw, I was worse on the return journey: and it is one of our modern miracles, much like our expanding universe but more unbelievable, that I slept like a child and woke up almost cheerful. What I know of an expanding universe is this, that Jeans became peeved when I bracketed the idea equal with witchcraft and astrology; what I did not ask him was whether his wasps grew up as the station expanded.
The journey into Calcutta yesterday was less tiring. I arrived just in time for the meeting; it lasted an hour and a half (strong line to be taken!): and then I had tea and a haircut and came back here at once. I am so much behindhand with my work that it seems useless to do any.
Of the squirrels and the birds and the mosquites, I say nothing. In fact, I am tired and shall go to bed now.
Farewell all.
I am much depressed, for my dear friend Ben Kindersley with whom I went hither and thither in Darjeeling has just died in England.
(Feb 9th Addition handwritten to Rosemary
Lately your letters have been most gay and interesting. I have enjoyed the riding. Your mother will tell you that I did not like riding. That is not so, but I liked galloping rather than walking, and I usually had the feeling that I ought to finish the ride quickly and get back to work. I had a picture most vivid of you in goal contending with swarms of attackers.
Much love, Dad
Family letter from LJT
Chinsurah
Feb 15th 1939.
My Dears,
It was just as well I did not leave writing my letters till I went into Calcutta last week, for my three days with Winsome were packed full of activities of one sort and another. There was a good deal of work for the Himalayan Club to do, both in the way of letters, and of seeing people. I am still making investigations about insuring porters, and I also went to see the Surveyor General at the Survey Office, so find out whether he could have a new screen made for our epidiascope, which, I am glad to say he is doing. There is always a certain amount to see to before a lecture. One of the jobs this time was getting a blackboard over from the Geological survey Office, for Mr Groth to draw a map on. It was rather fund doing it! The lecture was un unqualified success. The colour film of Kashmir, Gilgit, Hunza and Chitral was the best of its sort I have seen, and Mr Groth spoke well, and informally, and after the show rather a nice discussion grew up, and later people gathered in groups and sat talking and drinking till nearly mid-night.
It was such fun being with Harry and Winsome in their palatial mansion, and so nice to feel that with plenty of spare rooms and lots of servants, they really do not mind our popping down for a night whenever we feel like it. The house is fully furnished, and as they did not want to get rid of all their own furniture, they have sent it up to us, and I have had great fun fitting it all in. It is wonderful how this house has consumed it all without getting indigestion. Of my four small spare rooms, one pair were reasonably completely furnished, but the other two were fitted up meagrely. Now they are absolutely complete, even to having a writing table and an arm chair in each. Shall I ever have four guests staying here at one time to make use of them is the next question. Odd things have also gone into our rooms and the drawing-room and dining-room, so that I don’t suppose this house has ever been so well or completely furnished before. The things will be with us for at least a year, and then I hope we shall either be coming home on leave, or possibly, if Herbert feels unbearably irritated, we might chuck and come for good, so we shant feel such a bad draft when they go.
There were lots of nice things to do in Calcutta. I lunched and teaed with different friends, each day. Winsome had a little dinner-party for me on Thursday, and on Friday I dined with a man who is in the Police in Calcutta, and who has become keen on Yoga exercises and poses. He has been encouraging the police in the Calcutta Physical Training School, to become interested in this age-old and highly scientific system of their own, and it was to se some of these men perform, that he gave this party, to a group of interested people. We sat down twenty-four, to a cold “Help-Yourself” dinner, arranged at four different tables. It was well done, and I think it is a nice way of entertaining. They were all interesting people there too, including several non-English. It was most remarkable to see what a group of three young constables ha accomplished with one month’s training in this special line of what is called Hatha Yoga. (Pronounce the th in the first word like an aspirated t. Our th sound does’nt exist in Hindi or Sanscrit) After the beginners had given their demonstration, a man who has been at it for three or four months did some very remarkable things, and the evening finished with some informal music, since our host and the man who lives with him both play and sing well and are passionately fond of music. Altogether it was a most delightful evening.
While in Calcutta I also gave some time to a young man who has come out from England to study the “Social and Economic background of the Reforms”. He was recommended to us by Herbert’s old friend Sir Frank Noyce. Mr. Wint, for that is the young man’s name, has some sort of an Oxford Scholarship, with which to travel and study social problems, and he has chosen India, and is to write a book. The book is to be published by 1940 Xmas, but we all tell Mr Wint that what he sees now will inevitably be out of date then, for things are moving so fast. I took him or sent him to see various people whom I thought would interest him, including Milly Chaudhuri’s niece, who has just finished at the London School of Economics where I gather she was one of Harold Laski’s star pupils. She has come back to India a convinced Communist, and is determined to give her life to the uplift of her own people. On Saturday morning I picked up Mr Wint and brought him out here for the week-end. On our way we visited the RamKrishna Mission, and spent about an hour and a half there talking to some of the Swamis and to old Miss MacLeod.
I had to go off at three o’clock to give away the prizes at the Scotch Mission boys’ School. It was rather a nice show and I quite enjoyed it. Out of the 240 boys in the school, there are six Christians, and one Mohammedan, and the rest are Hindus. When I returned about 5:45, I found Herbert and Mr. Wint poreing over maps and statistics in Herbert’s Office. They had apparently had an intensive afternoon of talk. I brought Mr. Ghose, the head of Hoogli College back with me, as I thought Mr. Wint might be interested to talk to him, and it turns out that they were both at Oriel, so the meeting was specially successful.
During the evening and the next morning, Herbert and I between us, poured a great deal of information into the willing ears of the seeker after knowledge. A party of people from Calcutta, friends of his and of ours come up for lunch, and took him off to se the local sights during the afternoon, while Herbert and I snatched an hours sleep, both feeling rather exhausted. We all had tea and sat talking late in the garden, and then they went off to Calcutta, taking Mr Wint with them. One wonders what ideas crystallize out of the welter of impressions that must be received by an intelligent young man, who is travelling from end to end of India, and trying to form some picture of kaleidoscope of peoples and customs, all being shaken by new forces, into unaccustomed patterns.
Louise Rankin and I managed to find time during my brief visit to Calcutta to take boat to the Botanical Gardens, where we wanted to see the Dalipot palsm, which bloom only once in their lives and then die. They are more interesting than beautiful, though the huge feathers of blossom which spring from the very top of the lofty tree, are impressive. The gardens are beginning to look pretty now, with a good many trees in flower, and quite a number getting their fresh spring foliage.
Tomorrow we are off on tour again. We are once more going to Suri, the capital of Birbhum district, where we spent three days last month with the Forest Committee. It seems a pity to visit it again so soon, but on this occasion Herbert goes in his real capacity of Commissioner of the Division, while last time he went as President of the Forest Committee, and attended only to that work. He is still feeling tired, not I believe so much as a result of his poisoning, as of over-work. He is still trying to do three or four other things, as well as his job.
The weather has been quite hot for the past few days, and the wind is from the South, a thing we always notice with regret, for it means the really hot weather is coming in. It is unusually early this year, but we have almost given up hope of another cool spell.
The Himalayan Club have done me the entirely unexpected honour of putting my name forward before the Annual General Meeting, which takes place on the 28th, as a Vice-President of the Club. I am completely surprised and rather touched at the attention.
A few minutes ago I was called downstairs by one of the chapprassis to see a snake which they had just killed. It was a damen, about five feet long. These snakes are said to tie themselves round a cows legs, and then drink the milk. They are not poisonous, but can do considerable damage to bare legs, by whipping them with their tails.
What with being away, and having people up from Calcutta, I have seen singularly little of the people in the station lately, and feel a thought guilty about it. Herbert has been so tired in the evenings, that I have not liked to suggest having people in for drinks or dinner.
Best love
LJT
From LJT to Annette
Chinsurah
Feb 15th 1939
My darling Annette
Mixed in with the search for information about India, which is being conducted by the young man Guy Wint, who stayed the week-end here, were a good many scraps of talk about Oxford – Its not so very long since he came down from Oriel and he is living in rooms in Holywell (For further information see the family letter) When I first met him in Calcutta last week I kept on feeling myself bubbling with laughter inside, for I am sure he has the perfect Oxford accent. He has expressed the intention of looking up you and Richard when he gets back to Oxford – but since he must be meeting hundreds of people in India and feeling the same glow of gratitude to most of them for hospitality received, it may be that he wont find the time to get in touch with relatives at home, as at the moment, he has every intention of doing. It was rather pleasant having him here, partly because I always enjoy talking to an intelligent person of any age, and partly I suppose we all find it rather enjoyable being questioned on subjects about which we are able to produce a good deal of miscellaneous information.
I think I have mentioned to you before that in my life as it is organized here, I tend to get my intellectual enjoyment in concentrated doses, when I go to Calcutta. I packed a good deal in this time. Milly Chaudhuri whom I meet at lunch at Louise Rankin’s – and with whom I also had tea one day, is always a sharp stimulous. She sees things so clearly and she chops off sentiment so ruthlessly. The sad part of it is, that he clear thinking brain has not made her happy. Perhaps it has made her a misfit amongst her own people, who are so highly emotional and sentimental.
The party on Friday night at which some young police constables did Yoga exercises and poses for us was extremely interesting – I am also intrigued to find that Eric Hodson, the policeman who was my host, and whom I have known in a way ever since I came out here, is interested not only in the exercises but in the philosophy that lies behind them. He has always seemed such a solid, unimaginative rather dull person, except that his is passionately fond of music – The other evening at Mr Groth’s party, I found my self talking about the power of nature of vibrations and so on, with him, and was sorry that we were interrupted – There was not much chance to talk the other evening (Friday) at his own party since as host to 24 people, he had his attention fully occupied, but I hope to have more talk with him before long.
When Mr Wint and I stopped for an hour or more at the Ram Krishna Mission on our way out here on Saturday morning, one of the Swamis told us a lot about “meditation”. It was interesting to hear him talking about it in as matter-of-fact and practical manner, as you or I might talk about cleaning our teeth or having a shampoo. I asked him if he thought the Hindu priests taught the common people anything about truth and honesty and duty to their neighbours. He replied sadly in the negative. Training teachers to teach the people these things is the great part of the work that the Ram Krishna brotherhood is doing – At present they have 500 members, but he says that want to grow to 5,000 and 5,000 thousand. The point where the Hindu religion seems to me to have failed its followers is on this point, that it gives no moral teaching at all. It deals only with the ceremonies – in fact with “washing the outside of the cup and platter”. Its power is its immensity, I suppose. With 38 million deities, it ought to be possible to find something to suit all tastes!
Dad has come up from his office. Dinner time approaches so I shall stop these random musings.
Best love, my dear
Mother
From LJT to Annette
Camp
Suri
Birbhum Dist
Bengal
Feb 18th. 1939
My darling Annette
It was specially nice getting long letters from you and Richard this morning, for Dad was going off inspecting the office and I had a long uninterrupted morning – so I was able to savour the letters at leisure. My inclination was to sit down to answer them at once – but I had detirmined to write some long overdue letters this morning and I kept to my plan, and did write really long letters to Dr Tomb, Poppy Dunn and Margaret Ogle, before I was interrupted by a visit from a queer old Indian doctor which I will tell about in the family letter.
I am very interested to hear that you are the N.U.S. representative for Somerville and that you are going to the big meeting in Newcastle. It should be interesting and I hope you will see Magda Elliot and Mary Pierie – Magda spends most of the term time in Newcastle as far as I know. Its rather interesting seeing one of those great northern industrial towns if you have not done so before – They are so different from anything we have in the South – I am glad you are helping the N.U.S. along. Its a remarkable body and deserving of warm support it seems to me. It pleases me to know that both you and Richard are willing to do some work for clubs or societies that you are interested in – The great fault of so many of the girls or young married women (plenty of old ones too, for that matter) who come to Calcutta is that they don’t seem to have developed any sort of public spirit and not prepared to do even a small amount of work to help along the world round them. Their only conception of their duty to their neighbour is a social one, strictly confined to a special social grade and generally with a good deal of the “cutlet for cutlet” spirit about it. Mrs. Tufnell Barrett – our Collectors wife is an exaggerated example of this – She feels that she should have the best of houses gardens and amenities of every sort – money and position, but it has never occurred to her that it is up to her to give something in return – I wonder what she would think if a picture of herself as others see her could be conveyed before her mind. I fancy she would have a bit of a shock – She was almost entirely educated out here, and I don’t think the schools in India make much attempt to incalculate any sort of public spirit – It was a thing that St Monica’s was good at in my day and I think which it still stuck to during the time you were there – I think I would perhaps leave out the “Santification” part of the Motto – but I like the “Service” –
Its cute of Anne to have put her finger on your frown – I hope you will think of her clerihew when you feel the wrinkles between your brows, for they do belie your nature – When you were a little girl the frown was one of puzzlement combined with a slight irritation when people did not understand or listen to what you wanted – It was never a cross frown for you were never at all a cross or disagreable child.
How interesting that Christina should have come across a mediaeval Italian story so closely resembling the life of Buddha – Was her Balam also the Balam of the Bible? I am just finishing Woolley’s book on “Ur” and combined with the history of Nebuchanezza it has given me a much clearer idea of the setting of early bible history than I had before. I must go to the British Museum and look at those wonderful things from Ur, again – Poppy and I went to see them soon after they were put there and found them extremely fascinating. After reading Woolley’s book, I am sure I should find them even more so. Did you know that in Nebuchanezzar’s time it was the fashion for the Babylonian ladies to take off one garment with every course – “until” its says “missing word came to the most intimate” – How awkward it would be if an enthusiastic cook put in an extra course! I feel moved to read some of the early bible history again.
I have just been reading a book which interested and rather thrilled me. It is a semi-historical novel called “All This and Heaven Too” – by Richard Field – Its the story of a governess who was in the house in Paris where a famous murder of the Duchesse de Praslin, took place about the middle of last century – Subsequently she went to America and married into the Field family – one member of which laid the Atlantic cable. It was lent to me by Mrs. White, (American Consul General’s wife) some of whose forebears went to the little school in New York where Mdelle D taught for a while – and knew the Field family. Its worth reading, though a bit sentimental. Here’s Dad just back from his inspections – so farewell and best love
Mother
Family letter from LJT
Chinsurah
Bengal
Feb 23rd 1939.
My Dears,
Our visit to Suri was quiet and peaceful. The first morning was entirely taken up by the Prize Giving of the Agricultural Exhibition, and by going round the Exhibits. In the afternoon and during the following two days Herbert was inspecting the offices, jail etc all the time, and I had two long undisturbed mornings for writing letters. We were staying in the Circuit House, which is pleasantly situated outside the town, with wide views across the surrounding slightly undulating country. The Collector and all the officials there are Indians, and not the highly Europeanized type, so that we did not have to go out to a round of parties. The Collector had given a big tea-party when we were there with the Forest Committee last month, and the Club had also entertained us to a tea-party, so this time when there was some mention of going to the Club, we were able to plead the fact that Herbert was still tired after his upset, without giving offence to anyone. After tea on the first day, we drove with the Collector to see some high land about a couple of miles outside the town, to give our opinions as to whether it could be made into a landing ground for troop-carrying aeroplanes at 24 hours notice by 100 men. Here my knowledge of flying and Landing Grounds came in useful. The bit of ground would make a splendid permanent Landing Ground with a little money spent on it, but there are a good many places where the soil has been eroded by storm water, leaving pits two or three feet deep and of fairly wide extent. The soil has been eroded by storm water, leaving pits two or three feet deep and of fairly wide extent. The soil itself is a hard volcanic rock-like substance, called laterite, and it would be terribly dangerous to fill up these pits with fresh soft earth, and then let an aeroplane land, for one wheel might be on the hard rock-like surface, and one sink into the soft stuff. The Government have got an idea that it would be a good thing to be able to send troops to any headquarters by plane, but firstly they have not got any troop-carrying planes in this part of India, and would have to fetch them from up-country, and secondly, with most of the districts, if they are relying on getting a landing ground ready in 24 hours, they had much better meantime, send the troops up by special train. Its true that by ordinary train the journey to Suri takes an incredible time, since there are only slow trains, and they stop ten minutes or more at every little way-side station, and loiter in between. It took us about seven hours each way from here, but I imagine a special train being sent through could do it in half the time. It was just as well that we were available to advise for the Collector who had to send in the report, had never been in an areoplane, and I dont think he had ever seen or considered the points of a good landing ground, and was inclined to think that this place would do well.
The Agricultural Exhibition was pretty good of its sort, and attracts thousands of people during the week. The arena of the Exhibition itself was surrounded by a high fence made of tall dried grass held in place by bamboos. The stalls were all built of the same materials and the gateways, made rather in the shape of lyche gates, were effectively done with straw and the different grains, mostly rice, still on the stalk. Rice of various sorts, was the most important exhibit, but there were all sorts of other crops and vegetables, as well as cattle. Then there was a section devoted to public health, and two “courts” full of boothes selling or exhibiting cottage industries, or the work of schools. There is a good deal of weaving done in the District itself and also in neighbouring ones, some cotton, and some of locally grown silk. Outside the Exhibition ground a small town of shops had grown up,- - really there were two quite long streets. A circus was also in full blast, an there were several strange entertainments, of a similar nature, I suppose, to those that used to go round to the old Fairs in England. Over one booth I saw the legend “Roman Fox Girl” above a brightly colored picture of a fox-like animal with a girl’s head. I never found out what it was all about! One of the interesting features which I noticed was a large area entirely taken up by piles of rather roughly carved doors, where a brisk trade was being carried on. One of the local gentlemen told me that all through the year country people save up to buy a door, and if they can manage to do so, they are enormously proud, and feel they have established some standing in their village. On the wide maidan (Common) round the Exhibition ground, there were encampments and parks of bullock-carts under all the trees. This Exhibition is evidently one of the great events of the year, for the people for miles and miles round. I may mention that while Herbert and I were going round the Exhibits, we were the objects of the highest interest!
I revisited the Exhibition on Friday afternoon, to have a look at the booths we had not had time to see the first morning, and I made a few purchases, including ordering a pair of rather pretty hand woven striped bed-spreads. At five o’clock on the Friday, Herbert had to give away the prizes at the General Sports. The sports had been going on since two o’clock, and were still in full swing when we arrived. I have seldom seen anything worse organized, but everyone seemed perfectly happy about it. The audience kept on surging all over the tracks, and being driven back by heated gentlemen. In the race for the local ponies, no one seemed to know how many times they were to go round the track or where the winning post was. If English people had been running it, they would have been demented long before the end, but as it was there was any amount of excitement and only very little in the way of complaints.
On Saturday I wrote letters all day, till tea-time, and then Herbert and I went to have another look at the proposed landing ground, as an excuse for a walk, and later visited the Agricultural Farm, where we stayed till it was almost dark. We left at 6.45 the following morning, and dawdleing along in the train, arrived back here about 1.15. The long slow railway journey proved rather restful to Herbert, and he has not been nearly so tired since we got back. I was thankful he did feel better, for I had arranged a dinner-party for Monday night, chiefly on account of our Indian Judge and his wife, who have been here some time, but with whom we had not been able to fix up a party. We were twelve to dinner, and I think it was quite a nice party, considering that one cant do much about picking ones guests for the brilliancy of their conversation in a place like this. I used the old family plated soup tureen as a centre piece for the dining room table, filling it with a mixture of any flowers I could find, antirrhinums, dahlias, roses and so on. It looked fine, and was applauded by my guests.
After lunch on Tuesday we went off to Calcutta. Herbert had to see the Chief Secretary and several other people, and to give evidence before one of the many Committees who are sitting on various subjects, at 10 o’clock yesterday morning. It was a good excuse to stay a night with Harry and Winsome. We went to the Pictures at 6 o’clock, and saw an amusing film called “You Cant Take It With You”, full it is true, of exaggerations and stupidities, but with enough good ideas and acting to make it worth seeing. We fell in with a friend as we were going in, and he sat with us, and we all went to the Saturday Club for a “Grill” afterwards, where we met more friends and sat talking till about 10.30. Harry and Winsome happened to be giving a dinner-party, hence our feeding out.
Actually Herbert had to be in Calcutta till tea time yesterday, for he had a lot of work to do with the Forest people about his forest Committee. I shopped and did an hour and a half’s Himalayan Club work, had lunch with Charles Crawford, and went to see Percy Brown, whose wife has just had rather a serious operation. Its specially annoying for her, as she is a Christian Scientist. If poor old P.B. were not so worried about her, and sorry for her pain, I think he would have a certain satisfaction at her having to call in a doctor! They were to have spent this week-end with us, but of course it has had to be put off.
Its always nice getting home to this delightful house. We had a late cup of tea, sitting on the verandah, watching the light fade over the river, but then comes the snag! A number of flies in the ointment! At dusk the mosquitoes come out in their hords! They are terribly bad just now, and even with smoke coils, and flit, and bags to put ones legs in, they make life uncomfortable after dark.
Winsome and Harry flourish, and Charlotte grows apace. Harry has become immensely keen on golf, and goes out to play every morning before breakfast. Winsome and I had great gardening talks. There is a large and very good garden at 16 Alipore Road, but it wants a good deal of clearing out and renewing. Winsome is thinking ahead of what she will do when they finally take over the house next year. I am going to take a lot of cuttings of shrubs for her. There are a lot of nice shrubs in this garden.
There is the gong for hand-washing before lunch, so I had best be stopping.
Best Love to you all,
LJT