by Elizabeth Faithful
[Ed.’s
Note: This book is a memoir of the life of the author’s Aunty Dolly (Ida Grace)
Dudman. Dolly always described herself as a true “Anglo-Indian”—English but
born and brought up in India. At the age of 21 she married Jerry (Jeremiah)
Wilkes but he died within the year. This chapter begins about two years later,
after what the author calls the “obligatory two years of mourning”, and Dolly
is being courted by Jerry’s friend, Kingsley Lewis.]
It was New Year's Eve 1922—Jerry had been dead almost two years. A new year was dawning and Dolly, after her long illness, had begun to take part in the whirl of social activities again. Kingsley Lewis had become her constant companion. They played badminton, tennis, picnicked with their friends, played bridge and he had asked her to become his wife.
He was suave, charming, witty and had a brilliant career ahead of him. Dolly felt that she would have security as his wife, although he was totally the opposite of her Jerry. Lewis was like Heathcliffe whilst Jerry had been fair and gentle like Edgar Linton. Besides, Jerry had trusted him and consigned her to his care on his deathbed, or so Kingsley told her.
The wedding was to be in Calcutta on April 2, 1923, and thereafter they were to live in Kingsley's house in Hardinge Road, Patna. This was a large house with about twelve acres of garden around it. There were tennis courts and badminton courts and a croquet lawn and the Lewises, Kingsley and his sister Gladys, who acted as his hostess, often entertained on a lavish scale.
Dolly's only sister was
Maude (in fact her half sister since she was the daughter of Dolly's mother
Blanche and step father Jack Ashley-Walshe). Maude and Dolly were somehow very
close despite the age difference of ten years between them. Dolly had always
felt somewhat responsible for her younger sister. Maude was fifteen years old
and very excited to be allowed to join the New Year's Eve party. The only other
time she could remember being quite so excited was when King George V and Queen
Mary had visited India for their Durbar and all the British children had
received commemoration mugs in honour of the visit.
She was a petite and pretty
child, with a milk white skin, smiling brown eyes and long, chestnut brown hair
which was her crowning glory. She was the youngest of Blanche's children from
her second husband, all the rest being boys with the exception of one other
girl, Jessie, who died in infancy. She was, therefore, everybody's darling and
although born on July 21, and thus being on the cusp of Cancer and Leo, she
combined the charm of a Leo with the quiet assurance of Cancer.
The
New Year's Eve Ball had been rather like her coming out party since prior to
this she had been treated like a child, and so it was more or less her
introduction to society in Patna.
Preparations were in full force for Dolly's wedding to Kingsley Lewis and Maude was to be a bridesmaid. It was to be a very quiet wedding, with only the immediate families attending. The honeymoon was to be spent in Calcutta, the city where all the bright lights and night life prevailed. The couple were then to return to Patna and life in Hardinge Road, where Dolly would be the new chatelaine.
* *
*
The heirs to the India’s
princely states were obviously affected by the changes in Indian society and
British influence, and traditional Indian education was no longer adequate, New
boarding schools were founded by the British in the style of the English public
schools to teach the scions of these high class families to recite Shakespeare
and play cricket. These establishments were sometimes referred to as the Etons
of the East.
The
most famous of these princes' colleges was Rajkumar College in Rajkot—the
centre of the Kathiawar peninsula—which was established in 1870. Then Mayo College was established in Ajmer, Rajasthan.
Next Aitchison College in Lahore (1896), which was to play a prominent part in
Dolly's later life. The fourth was Daly College in Indore, established in 1898.
The
hospitality of the Indian Princes was legendary and they entertained Princes of
Wales, Czarevitches of Russia, Archdukes and Duchesses of Hungary, the young
German Crown Prince who was to dismantle Europe when he became Kaiser,
pretenders to the throne of France and the all powerful British Viceroys, as
well as legions of Dukes and other lesser grandees. Social climbers angled
avidly for invitations to these great gatherings and if they succeeded they were
entertained in a style and with a magnificence unrivalled in all the world.
There were breathtaking wedding ceremonies, spectacular shoots and grand balls.
Every minute of every day added to the legend of Princely Indian hospitality.
Maharajah
Ganga Singh of Bikaner was famous for his annual sand grouse shoot.
Unfortunately, the number of these little birds that were shot could not
possibly have been consumed in a single day despite the fact that they were
great delicacies. One Victorian wit was heard to remark that the Maharajah
retained his fame by the "Grouse of God".
Another wag, commenting on plans for the forthcoming visit by a Prince of
Wales, composed:
Beautifully he will shoot
Many a royal tiger brute
On their backs they will lie
Shot by the apple of their eye
Another
of these Indian potentates was Sir Pratap Singh of Jodhpur. He was the epitome
of the chivalrous Indian knight, a friend to Queen Victoria, Edward VII and
George V, and three times regent of the Kingdom of Jodhpur. On his way to attend
Queen Victoria's Golden Jubilee celebrations in London all his baggage was lost
at sea. Naturally, for such a grand occasion he required an immediate
replacement of his wardrobe and, in explaining the cut of his breeches to a
London tailor, he set the fashion for the riding breeches trousers which have
borne his name ever since—Jodhpurs.
He was as puritanical in his
own way as Queen Victoria and once refused to dance with a Continental lady
dressed in a low cut gown because, he said, “I think she was not a very
gentlemanly lady.” He insisted that the ladies of his own harem wear long
sleeves because he thought short sleeves were immodest when they fanned
themselves. This was probably academic since no man could see them but himself.
* *
*
It was February 1923. There had been rioting which generated a communal virus from which the Indian nation would never recover. The seeds of separatism were sown.
Maude, who had been living
with her grandmother (Mamma) since Dolly's first marriage, spent most of her
time with Dolly and Kingsley. She played badminton with them, although she did
not fancy tennis. She liked croquet, and at one of their open evenings she was
introduced to a local Maharajah whose palace was on the outskirts of Patna.
A few days later, to their
horror, Maude disappeared.
One afternoon everybody was
having their customary afternoon nap – it was
considered essential that ladies, in particular, looked their best in
the evenings and this afternoon nap routine enabled them to face the evening's
entertainment, refreshed and looking wonderful. Maude, being young, was bored
with this custom and wandered out of her bedroom to sit on the steps of the
verandah, just day dreaming.
An old woman, ostensibly a
churi-wallee (bangle seller) came down the drive and asked Maude if she wanted
some churis (glass bangles). Maude said she would look at them.
“Come with me,” the old
woman said. “I am old and the basket is heavy so I left it at the gate because
your drive is so long.”
Innocently,
Maude followed the old dame but when she got to the gate, there was no basket
to be seen.
“Where is your basket…” she
began, when suddenly something was thrown over her head, she was lifted bodily
and placed in a palanquin. Palanquins were rather like the sedan chairs of old
but usually made of silk. A voice said in her ear, “Do not struggle. We are not
going to harm you.”
Bewildered, the girl just
sat there, wondering what was going to happen to her. She wished she had stayed
in bed but it was too late for that. Eventually, the palanquin stopped and she
was bundled into a waiting car, which roared off. The seats were very
comfortable and appeared to be padded. "Whose car?" she wondered.
When the car stopped, the
hood was taken off her head and she saw that she had arrived at a palace some
way out of the city. The gardens were immense. She was conducted to the Zenana
and there handed to two serving girls, who led her into a chamber, luxuriously
furnished and heavy with the scent of incense.
The Zenana (or women's
quarters) were peopled entirely by ladies who were guarded by eunuchs. There
were the wives, the concubines and also a few courtesans. Every concubine
nursed the ambition to become the favourite of the Zenana and ensure the
Maharajah's love. Often they used their maids as accomplices and a concubine
devoted most of her life towards achieving this aim. She would spend lots of
time and effort in enhancing her looks and preparing aphrodisiacs from rubies,
peacocks’ bones or rams’ testicles, and these were hidden in secret caskets
awaiting the opportunity to use them. She would consult horoscopes and decide
upon a particular date when she should try to attract the Maharajah’s
attention. She would dress very carefully on the date in question and place
herself in a position to attract the attention of the Maharajah. If her prayers
were answered, the eunuch would return with his lamp held high to summon her to
the love pavilion.
Maude was conducted to a
bathroom, a large room with various receptacles containing water and a section
with large stones set in a sunken area on which one sat while being bathed by
the attendants. Four ladies of the harem then entered and undressed her. A
fifth unbraided her hair. She was then massaged with sandalwood oil by the four
ladies, one doing her arms, one her legs, one her back and one her front. The
fifth massaged olive oil into her scalp and hair.
This procedure lasted for
almost an hour and then she was seated on one of the stones and bathed in very
hot water again with sandalwood soap, whilst her hair was shampooed with
something called reeta which was like a seed—a herbal product which produced a
great deal of lather. She was then led out of the bathing area, wrapped in
large, warm towels.
Next she had to lie on a
charpoy, a bed with a wooden framework and string base, and her hair was spread
out. Underneath the charpoy a brazier was placed with coals on which aromatic
substances were burned so that her hair absorbed the sweet smell of these
substances. Against her will she began to feel a sense of well being and the
soporific effect of the herbs and spices lulled her into a feeling of animated
suspension.
Once thoroughly dry, her
hair was brushed until it shone like silk. She was then dressed in beautiful
silk garments and taken to the quarters she was to occupy. There were all sorts
of diversions, like board games, little animals, large gardens to walk in,
swings—the women of the Zenana could have anything they desired, and they had
one another to talk to—but none could go beyond the great entrance doors, which
were guarded by men with drawn swords.
Meanwhile, Kingsley Lewis,
through his contacts with military intelligence [he worked for the Government
Secret Service – Ed.], discovered that she had been abducted by the Maharajah.
The Indian potentates had a taste for nubile white girls and Maude was just the
age, and her milk white skin and chestnut locks had obviously captivated the
man's fancy.
Jack Ashley-Walshe and
Kingsley Lewis spent the next two weeks bribing various servants of the
Maharajah and guards in the seraglio, and eventually on Lewis's birthday,
February 14, they managed to extricate Maude from the palace. When Maude
emerged from the Zenana, escorted by the eunuch Lewis had bribed, to their
horror they saw that she was dressed in the typical diaphanous, flowing robes
of a lady of the harem. Luckily; Lewis had had the forethought to bring a large
mantle with him and flinging this over her. They quickly bundled her into their
waiting car and rushed away.
They were now faced with the dilemma of wondering
whether in fact she was still virgo intacta. Maude insisted that nothing had
happened. She said she had just been put into a part of the palace inhabited
entirely by women. She had been waited on hand and foot and given different
clothes but she had not even seen the Maharajah. Nevertheless, her father felt
he could not take a chance. If the news got out there would be no saving her
reputation and any hope of marriage would be out for her. A husband must be
found for her and that quickly.
Kingsley Lewis knew a young
man, with the reputation of being a confirmed bachelor, who worked in the
Secretariat, He was James Michael Faithful, who lived alone in a large house in
Mangels Road. He appeared to have no family whatsoever, so the problem of
gossip amongst his people and opposition to the marriage from that quarter was,
therefore, not one about which they would have to worry.
James Faithful was a very
dark-skinned man but he was highly educated and comfortably off. Jack
approached Jim, as he was called, and discussed the possibility of marriage
with Maude. Jim Faithful agreed. He was a shy, quiet, intelligent man and
possibly he would never have plucked up the courage on his own to propose to
any eligible young lady. It may have been for him his best chance to have a
family of his own, which he might not otherwise have been able to do. The
wedding was fixed for the same day as Dolly's but their wedding was to be in
the morning at Bankipore Cathedral and Dolly's in the afternoon on the same
day.
James was a staunch Roman
Catholic and this suited as well since Maude had been raised a Roman Catholic.
Her father, although a Catholic, was not a practising one. But her mother
Blanche had converted to Roman Catholicism and was more bigoted than any person
who had been Catholic from birth. Her husband used to joke about the fact that
converts were always the most fanatical of people. Blanche Walshe insisted on
fish being served both on Wednesdays and Fridays. A very popular river fish at
that time was roue (usually spelled rohi or rahu). It was extremely bony but
very tasty. Jack's favourite witticism regarding Blanche's strict adherence to
this rule was: “You’ll go to heaven on a roue fish.”
Accordingly, preparations
were rushed through and Maude and Jim were married at 10 o'clock on the morning
of April 2, 1923. The bride looked tiny in the fashions of that time, with her
veil covering her forehead and her little face looking even smaller swamped by
all that tulle and flowers: for all the world like a little flower, with her
face the tiny center, and the petals the voluminous white tulle surrounding it.
In the afternoon, the family
were at Dolly's wedding to Kingsley Lewis. When the vicar asked, “If any man
know of just cause or impediment why these two people may not be joined
together in holy matrimony, let him speak now or forever hold his peace,” a man
stood up and made an objection. It turned out he had got the wrong sister. He
was making an objection to Maude but she was already married. And so the
wedding of Dolly and Kingsley Lewis proceeded and both couples went to Calcutta
for a fortnight.
Elizabeth James, nee Faithful, was born in Patna in
1936. Her other books are: I’ll Send You All My Love in a Letter; Half Caste;
and Chronicles of Anglo-Indian Life. In her writing, she tries to record life
in the 20th century for Anglo-Indians, drawing on her own family’s
experiences. She feels she is probably one of the last of her generation to
recall this way of life, and fears the story of these people “will slip away
into anonymity”.