Read Online The Temptress: The Scandalous Life of Alice De Janze and the Mysterious Death of Lord Erroll by Paul Spicer - Free Book Online
Authors: Paul Spicer
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critics who questioned the line’s practical purpose. In other words, the British had built the line and then come up with a reason for its existence. Recruitment of farmers began in 1901 and the first pioneers started to arrive in 1903. They came from as far away as Canada and New Zealand, as well as from Great Britain, and although many from the British contingent were aristocrats, the majority were middle-class men and women who faced the enormous odds of farming this uncharted territory with little capital but great tenacity.
After the end of World War I, a second wave of European settlers—made up mostly of ex-servicemen—arrived to farm the land and to help swell the numbers of whites in the area. The colony’s foothold seemed ensured, and by the early 1920s, the settlers had established their own parliament and legislative council. It was at this juncture that the early pioneers began to sit back and enjoy the fruits of their labors. They started to build large stone houses for themselves, with verdant lawned gardens and airy verandas. They employed local servants to tend to their properties and staff their kitchens. This was the era of the “English squires established on the equator,” as Evelyn Waugh described them, and these moneyed residents were determined to translate the English way of life to Africa. Servants were taught how to be “proper” butlers and chambermaids, how to lay tables with polished silver in the correct manner, and how to serve and cook imitations of English cuisine. Meanwhile, their masters played polo, tennis, and croquet and held luncheons and tea parties. There was now an impressive level of comfort to the lives of many of the colonial settlers in Kenya.
Wealthy socialite travelers had begun to come to Kenya for adventure, romance, and safaris, and many of them decided to stay. The undisputed ringleaders of this small but decadent new circle were the de Janzés’ friends, Joss and Idina. As part of Idina’s divorce settlement with her former husband, she had inherited 2,500 acres of farmland in the Wanjohi Valley north of Gilgil. The Hays had built a house on the land, calling it Slains after the Erroll family home in Scotland (sold by Joss’s predecessor, the profligate nineteenth earl of Erroll). Here, Idina began to throw house parties for visiting friends and local socialites. The flow of cocktails only served to fuel natural highs brought on by the extreme altitude of the highlands. Far from home, the Hays and their clique of friends found themselves freed from the restrictions of their families and society. Inhibitions were cast aside with abandon. Idina’s parties would often last for days at a time, and it was even rumored that—at the hostess’s insistence—every guest would have to sleep with someone other than the person with whom he or she had arrived before the party could finish. This liberated atmosphere was to give rise to the name “Happy Valley.” It was also the heady realm into which Alice and Frédéric were about to enter.
Joss arrived to meet his guests at the Norfolk Hotel on October 25, 1925. The three friends were reunited at the hotel’s door, excited to be meeting again so far away from Paris. They would have spoken in a mixture of French and English. Joss explained he had left Idina behind at their home for a very good reason. She was pregnant and the journey to Nairobi was bumpy and arduous. Joss was driving his brand-new 1922 long-bodied, open-top Hispano-Suiza, a wedding present from Idina. It was a car of enormous power, with an in-line six-cylinder engine, a single overhead cam, and over six liters in capacity. The car’s massive semielliptic front and rear suspension had been designed to cope with rough Spanish roads, making the car ideal for the challenges of the steep and rutted Kenyan byways. Practicalities aside, there would have been few cars more glamorous than Joss’s in 1920s Nairobi, its hood topped by a flying stork, “La
After the end of World War I, a second wave of European settlers—made up mostly of ex-servicemen—arrived to farm the land and to help swell the numbers of whites in the area. The colony’s foothold seemed ensured, and by the early 1920s, the settlers had established their own parliament and legislative council. It was at this juncture that the early pioneers began to sit back and enjoy the fruits of their labors. They started to build large stone houses for themselves, with verdant lawned gardens and airy verandas. They employed local servants to tend to their properties and staff their kitchens. This was the era of the “English squires established on the equator,” as Evelyn Waugh described them, and these moneyed residents were determined to translate the English way of life to Africa. Servants were taught how to be “proper” butlers and chambermaids, how to lay tables with polished silver in the correct manner, and how to serve and cook imitations of English cuisine. Meanwhile, their masters played polo, tennis, and croquet and held luncheons and tea parties. There was now an impressive level of comfort to the lives of many of the colonial settlers in Kenya.
Wealthy socialite travelers had begun to come to Kenya for adventure, romance, and safaris, and many of them decided to stay. The undisputed ringleaders of this small but decadent new circle were the de Janzés’ friends, Joss and Idina. As part of Idina’s divorce settlement with her former husband, she had inherited 2,500 acres of farmland in the Wanjohi Valley north of Gilgil. The Hays had built a house on the land, calling it Slains after the Erroll family home in Scotland (sold by Joss’s predecessor, the profligate nineteenth earl of Erroll). Here, Idina began to throw house parties for visiting friends and local socialites. The flow of cocktails only served to fuel natural highs brought on by the extreme altitude of the highlands. Far from home, the Hays and their clique of friends found themselves freed from the restrictions of their families and society. Inhibitions were cast aside with abandon. Idina’s parties would often last for days at a time, and it was even rumored that—at the hostess’s insistence—every guest would have to sleep with someone other than the person with whom he or she had arrived before the party could finish. This liberated atmosphere was to give rise to the name “Happy Valley.” It was also the heady realm into which Alice and Frédéric were about to enter.
Joss arrived to meet his guests at the Norfolk Hotel on October 25, 1925. The three friends were reunited at the hotel’s door, excited to be meeting again so far away from Paris. They would have spoken in a mixture of French and English. Joss explained he had left Idina behind at their home for a very good reason. She was pregnant and the journey to Nairobi was bumpy and arduous. Joss was driving his brand-new 1922 long-bodied, open-top Hispano-Suiza, a wedding present from Idina. It was a car of enormous power, with an in-line six-cylinder engine, a single overhead cam, and over six liters in capacity. The car’s massive semielliptic front and rear suspension had been designed to cope with rough Spanish roads, making the car ideal for the challenges of the steep and rutted Kenyan byways. Practicalities aside, there would have been few cars more glamorous than Joss’s in 1920s Nairobi, its hood topped by a flying stork, “La
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