by Paul Spicer
But the feature that would have impressed Alice the most would have been Idina’s bathroom, which was adjacent to the master bedroom. It was ten feet by eight feet and made of green travertine marble. Hot water was piped in from three forty-four-gallon drums heated by a log fire outside the bathroom. The water was somewhat discolored by the local iron and murram sediment, but it was refreshing and stimulating. Idina was in the habit of taking a bath before dinner, wallowing in steaming water with a cocktail in hand while holding forth for dinner guests, who were invited to join her as she bathed—in the nude, of course. The bath ceremony was just one of the many unconventional rituals at Slains. Another custom was that of dining in pajamas and a dressing gown. Alice had no pajamas, but she found a pair laid out neatly on her bedroom pillow by Marie. Dinner was usually late—around eleven at night—but in deference to Alice and Frédéric’s long journey, it is likely that it was served earlier that first evening. The African cook had been well taught by Marie and could manage a cheese soufflé and oeufs en cocotte, and there was champagne to celebrate the de Janzés’ arrival. Despite the prevalence of French wine and food, Alice would have felt herself as far away as possible from the formalities of Parfondeval and Paris.
The following day, Alice and Frédéric had their first sighting by daylight of Slains and its surrounding landscape. It has often been observed that the Kenyan highlands are reminiscent of the English and Scottish countryside—albeit on an epic scale. When the onetime editor of the East African Standard, George Kinnear, later visited Wanjohi, he, like so many visitors before and since, found himself in thrall to the landscape. His description of the valley gives an idea of the sight of the Aberdare Mountains that awaited Alice and Frédéric when they awoke that morning:
Every morning it takes the sun well nigh two hours to climb over the Aberdares and paint this valley with its rays and chase away the dew that cheats the drought. Many times I have stood shivering at dawn and watched the grey curtain of fading night lifted from the valley. The Aberdares stand like black bastions against the sun. Pockets of grey mist hide and reveal in turn. Here and there wisps of blue smoke rise lazily from hut and homestead. A silvery light steals down from the sky, but away over the Rift Valley the sky is already orange and yellow and a little pink. Suddenly the orchestra of the countryside plays the song of dawn and a dark hilltop is lit by a shaft of light. Even the streams run more noisily, chasing over the stones and leaping recklessly down the mountain-side. Weirdly the light changes from silver to soft gold as the sun relentlessly climbs up the mountain; and then soars over the mountain ridge and restores all the colour to the flowers and the trees and to every living thing. Here is a lovely garden radiant with masses of flowers: there are several ponds and water always running back to the mountain stream from whence man had led it higher up the valley.
That morning, Alice and Frédéric were indeed treated to views of rolling hills layered in early-morning mists, the mountain peak of Kipipiri rising from the clouds, a great waterfall in the distance, and dense forests of cedar. Breakfast would have included porridge and fresh cream from a nearby dairy. Joss and Idina were intent on owning their own dairy and were breeding Guernsey cattle to enable them to do so. After breakfast, Alice and Frédéric participated in another Slains ritual—the early-morning ride. Together with Joss, they rode out on three Somali ponies, with Idina staying at home because of her pregnancy. Although in France, Alice had been forced to ride on the left side, in Kenya, she was free to ride astride. These early-morning rides would have thrilled her: the beauty of the vistas, the unpopulated landscape, the sense of breadth and possibility, and, above all, the chance to see wild animals in close proximity. When she spied monkeys gamboling in the trees, she expressed a longing to own one as a pet. Joss and Frédéric duly obtained a tame monkey and gave it to her. Alice christened him Roderigo, and he seldom left her side; she carried him shoulder-high everywhere she went.
Alice would have cut a striking figure in Kenya, monkey at her ear. True to form, she had brought with her a sophisticated collection of Paris fashions and shoes, which she continued to wear, especially whenever she visited Nairobi. At Slains, however, she began to sport the cord trousers and loose blouses preferred by Idina. Like Coco Chanel, who had already shocked French society by wearing men’s clothes, Idina and Alice carried off their masculine look with immense elegance. Alice also had several sets of khaki safari outfits made for her by Ahmed, the tailor in Nairobi, to her own design, complete with wide-brimmed hats and calf-high leather mosquito boots to protect her ankles from bites. Alice probably wore her boots only when visiting lower altitudes, however, as mosquitoes generally cannot survive Wanjohi Valley’s cold nights and high altitudes.
During their stay, Idina would take Frédéric and Alice by car to the nearby town of Gilgil to collect their mail. Letters from Aunt Tattie and Frédéric’s mother, Moya, were soon arriving care of the post office, filled with news about the children. Alice would write back, regaling the children with tales of her morning rides and the beauty of the African countryside. She described for them the scurrying warthogs and how they would suddenly stop, their tails sticking straight up in the air. She told them about the sweet little dik-dik (tiny antelope with cloven feet) and about the monkeys, especially Roderigo. But despite her eagerness to communicate with her family in France, the truth was that Alice was relieved to be away. She had never been comfortable in her role as a mother. As a child, she had been abandoned, once as a result of her mother’s death and again when she was removed from her father. On some level, she must have been very comfortable with the idea of her children being cared for by Aunt Tattie—after all, this had been her own experience as a child.
The de Janzés remained in Kenya for three months, a month longer than originally planned. During that time, they met most of the key players in Kenya’s white-settler community. Alice’s charm and good looks captivated many. One of her most important social conquests was Hugh Cholmondeley, the third Baron Delamere, known to everyone as “D.” Thirty years her senior, the baron took a shine to Alice’s beauty and her deep-voiced American drawl. He also liked the fact that she was able to hold her drink, quaffing brandy and soda or pink gin with ease. Acceptance by D counted for a lot in the colonial community of the 1920s. Lord Delamere was the undisputed leader of the Kenyan settlers. He had arrived in Kenya in 1901, plunging his considerable personal wealth and energies into 100,000 acres of land near Njoro and encouraging his aristocratic friends in England to join him. Delamere, like his fellow settlers of all classes, had many setbacks in the beginning, particularly with the cattle he had imported, which quickly caught diseases and died. Over time, he learned to dip his herds to protect them from flies. He also mastered the art of growing wheat, employing a horticulturalist to develop a new variety of grain that would withstand local conditions. He began ranging his sheep on the edge of the Kinangop (a lower ridge of the plateau en route to the Wanjohi Valley), where conditions were clement and where his flocks soon thrived. D’s tireless experimentation in farming often brought him to the brink of bankruptcy, but the wisdom of his experiences, which he shared with the other farmers in the area, is the reason that a colony flourished in the highlands at all. Later, when the settlers needed to defend themselves against the restrictive regulations of colonial officialdom, it was D who led the charge.
So much has been written about the Happy Valley crowd and their penchant for parties that it can come as something of a surprise to discover that most of its members were actually extremely diligent farmers, Joss and Idina included. At the time of Alice’s arrival in Africa, Joss was meeting regularly with leading ranchers and farmers, such as D and Sir Francis Scott, seeking to learn from their long experience. Scott, the second son of the duke of Buccleuch, was another Englishman who was instrumental in establishing effective farming techniques in the highlands. A former Coldstream Guards officer, he had arrived in Kenya with the wave of ex-servicemen settlers arriving after the war,
building himself a magnificent home called Deloraine near Nanyuki. Together with D, he was only too delighted to help a fellow old Etonian such as Joss establish himself in the valley.
Alice was getting to know the other farmers in the area. On her morning rides, she came upon a Tudor-style house, Satima Farm, named after one of the Aberdare peaks, just to the south of Slains. The house belonged to Geoffrey Buxton, who farmed the surrounding 2,500 acres. Geoffrey Charles Buxton had been born in Thorpe, Norwich, in 1879. He was a close friend of Denys Finch Hatton, the adventurer who was immortalized by Karen Blixen in Out of Africa (1937). Both Buxton and Finch Hatton had attended Eton, like so many of the settlers, Delamere and Joss included. Buxton had first arrived in Kenya in 1910, but when the Great War commenced, he returned to the UK and obtained a commission in the Coldstream Guards in 1916 and was awarded a territorial decoration after being mentioned in dispatches. On his return to Kenya, he devoted himself to farming. In fact, it was Buxton who had first lured Finch Hatton to the area, telling his friend that he had discovered “Shangri La on the equator.” Unlike at Idina's, where the hostess entertained in pajamas, socializing at Buxton’s was much more formal—a blacktie affair, in the style of an English country mansion. Although he later married, at the time of Alice’s arrival in Africa, Geoffrey was still a bachelor, albeit a rather serious one.
Other immediate neighbors included the Honorable David Leslie-Melville, the second son of the earl of Leven and Melville, and his wife, Mary, the granddaughter of Lord Portman. The Leslie-Melvilles were married in 1919 and arrived in Kenya soon afterward, farming five thousand acres. Their house was a broad and rambling affair, decorated in the English fashion with antiques, silver, family portraits, and even a grand piano. Then there were Bill Delap and his wife, “Bubbles,” who owned Rayetta, a small pyrethrum farm. Pyrethrum was a valuable new crop and a natural pesticide grown by many of the farmers in the area, Idina included. Bill was a jealous and difficult man, and his first wife—according to Vi Case—“messed around with the troops.” After he married Bubbles, he built a drawbridge around his house and threatened to shoot unannounced visitors. The Delaps kept themselves to themselves, and the Happy Valley set were evidently perfectly in step with this arrangement.
Thanks to Alice’s friendship with Lord Delamere, the de Janzés were also getting to know the crowd that gathered at the exclusive Muthaiga Club in Nairobi. The club had been founded by a group of settlers who had wanted somewhere to socialize away from the existing Nairobi Club, a place where they were likely to run into government officials, with whom they were often at war. The new club opened on New Year’s Eve, 1913, with D as its first president, and soon gained a loyal and elite membership. Well-bred settlers were drawn like moths to the magnificent Muthaiga, its cellar filled with fine French wines, its well-appointed rooms offering comfort and elegance, along with the opportunity to socialize with friends over an infinite number of cocktails. Race weeks took place twice a year, at Christmas and in midsummer, during which times the Muthaiga overflowed with revelers—balls were held every evening, with members dressed to the nines, and the dancing lasted until dawn. Alice and Frédéric had been made temporary members of Muthaiga soon after their arrival, ensuring that they found themselves at the very center of colonial social life. Full membership would follow by virtue of D’s backing.
For the last two months of the de Janzés’ stay in Kenya, Frédéric hired a Ford car so that they would be able to drive to the Muthaiga and explore the surrounding area without relying on Idina or Joss to chauffeur them around. It was on one of their regular visits to Nairobi that they were introduced to Roy and Margaret Spicer, a couple recently arrived from Ceylon. English-born Roy was serving as the commissioner of police for Kenya. His new wife was American and had a nine-year-old daughter from a previous marriage. Frédéric was delighted to strike up a friendship with the Kenyan head of police, but the strongest bond was between Alice and Margaret. Alice found she had much in common with this well-dressed thirty-two-year-old. Like Alice, Margaret was from the States but had spent time in Europe and spoke fluent French, having been educated in Montreux. Margaret was often invited to stay at Slains, where she kept Alice, Frédéric, Joss, and Idina in fits of laughter with her imitations. Margaret had a talent for mimicry: She would impersonate the people she’d encountered on the boat trip out and the pompous manners of the Nairobi government officials.
It was during visits to Slains that Alice taught Margaret how to play the ukulele. The two women would often entertain Joss, Idina, and their guests after dinner with popular and traditional American songs. Alice and Margaret had complementary voices: Alice had a rather deep and husky contralto voice, and Margaret, who had trained as a soprano in Florence, possessed a higher and sweeter one. The two women would sit together on the descending lawn in front of the house as if on a stage. Guests would drive their cars into a half circle facing them, switching on headlights to illuminate the scene. One of Alice’s and Margaret’s duets was the following folk song from the Deep South:
There is an old log cabin and it’s a beautiful place
In that old log cabin, there is my baby waiting for me.
And it won’t be long, until I hear that song
Ringing in the fields of cotton and I’ll rejoice
When I hear that voice saying Baby
Oh yeah, there is an old log cabin…
They also performed George Gershwin hits, such as “Swanee” and “Oh, Lady Be Good,” as well as duets in French. Such performances became much talked about amongst the settler society of the times, and Alice would be asked to play and sing wherever she went.
It was through Roy and Margaret that the de Janzés first came into contact with the governor of Kenya, Sir Edward Grigg, and his wife, Joan. Roy Spicer had already won the respect of the handsome and commanding governor: Edward Grigg approved of Roy’s impressive service record during World War I—he had been awarded an MC (Military Cross) in France—and his highly effective reorganization of the Kenya police force, especially its African section. Roy’s morale-boosting innovations were much admired and included attention to the officers’ dress and the newly coined Kenya police motto, Salus Populi (the Latin motto means “service to the People” and it is still used today, although translated into Swahili). Roy also created cricket and football teams for the officers and developed Kenya’s first mounted police force, all of which helped to give the right impression to the enthusiastic governor. Although the governor’s wife, Joan, had become friends with Margaret, she did not share Margaret’s enthusiasm for Alice. Word had reached Lady Grigg that Alice had a decadent side, and the very prim and proper Joan was insistent that wives had to conduct themselves in a ladylike fashion if they were to be admitted into her circle at Government House. Margaret, however, managed to endear herself to Joan, despite being a divorcée, and was never excluded from official gatherings.
While Alice spent a good deal of time with Margaret, her closest ally in Kenya was Idina. The two had much in common. Although Idina was six years older and lacked Alice’s unimpeachable good looks—the former being known for her trademark weak chin—both women shared a fashionable elegance, an active disrespect for convention, and a passion for the Wanjohi Valley. It soon became clear that they had something else in common—namely, their attraction to Joss. After her arrival in Africa, Alice found herself increasingly attracted to Idina’s handsome husband. For his part, Joss returned the compliment, flirting publicly with Alice at every opportunity. Idina was unperturbed by her husband’s latest infatuation. In fact, she may have even encouraged Joss to set his sights in Alice’s direction. The Hays had always maintained an open relationship, and the heavily pregnant Idina may have felt that at this time Joss should be permitted his affairs. The advantage of Alice was that she would respect Idina’s precedence and would never attempt to rub her nose in it. Alice was someone who got along just as well with women as men, often making friends with the wives of her male frien
ds. In many ways, Alice’s and Idina’s mutual attraction to Joss became a bond between the two women.
We do not know exactly when Joss and Alice first consummated their relationship, but it seems that this happened at some point during Alice’s first visit to Kenya. Although their affair wasn’t openly acknowledged at this point—and neither Joss nor Alice sought to leave their spouses as a result—their on-again, off-again relationship would continue for the next two decades. In hindsight, their liaison has an air of inevitability about it. Alice was unfulfilled in her marriage, looking for excitement and escape: Her relationship with Frédéric was stable but far from passionate. For his part, Joss had always been magnetically attracted to wealthy and beautiful married women. Clandestine encounters between Alice and Joss would have taken place whenever Idina and Frédéric happened to be out at the same time, and the rarity of such opportunities would have only added to the excitement. By all accounts, Joss was an accomplished lover, known for his ability to bring a woman to climax easily, and it is entirely possible that Alice experienced a kind of sexual awakening with him. For his part, Frédéric put a brave face on Alice’s flirtation and subsequent affair with Joss. He was even heard to refer to Joss on more than one occasion as “the boyfriend.” Frédéric had lived with Alice’s moods for such a long time, it seems he was inclined to go along with anything that might make his unpredictable wife a little happier.