Authors: Paul Spicer
Although Alice and Frédéric adored their pets, their own relationship was becoming increasingly untenable. In his series of quasi-autobiographical stories about Kenya,
Vertical Land
(1928), Frédéric presented an accurate, if poignant, assessment of their marriage via the fictionalized relationship of “Delecia” and “Ned” (Alice and Frédéric). The names of the de Janzé pets were not changed. The narrator is a new arrival in Kenya and is called “Bob”:
After a long trek down, and the motor ride from Meru, I reach Nairobi fagged out. Washed and bathed, I’m carried off to Muthaiga for a drink.
As we drive up we are passed by a low-bodied Buick, piled with luggage and boys. “Ah—they are the Happy Valley crowd,” says the Colonel at my side. We stop and park the car behind theirs. “Salaam! Mon colonel!” the boy cries, all dusty faced, orange shirt turned to brown. “Hello, Delecia!” the Colonel calls, as the girl gets out, dark haired under a broad terai, in grey slacks and green jumper, small and dainty with firm, pointed chin and wide spaced grey eyes, much personality. We all meet and sit on the verandah for a drink.—“You don’t know Samson!—Oh, Ned, please get Samson.” He drags his long supple form from the deepest chair with a sigh of ennui, goes to the car, bringing back a four months’ old lion cub.
I never travel without him, but I’ve also got Roderigo and Bill Sikes, also Samson’s pal, Gillie, the Airedale.”
They are all brought for inspection, the two monkeys, tiny, and clinging like moths. Roderigo is sweet, but Delecia warns he is not very gentlemanly in his habits.
She talks and tells the Colonel all the gossip. Ned stalks off to the bar. He seems so nervous and jumpy, cannot stay still, wanders from group to group. Delecia tells of his accident with the elephant: “His nerves are terrible and he will go hunting in the forest with only one good arm.” She smiles, “He’s difficult at times.”
“And, Delecia, do play to us tonight.” “Well, maybe, but not at the club, and we must have dinner, a wash and thousands of drinks. I’m feeling completely passed out now. I’m going to my room, do send Ned along soon, he’ll only get cross if he stays too long in the bar.”
“A great pity,” murmurs the Colonel as she goes. “A great girl, Delecia, but she cares too much for her pets and he cares too much for her.”
Despite his growing sense that he was losing the woman he loved, Frédéric must have accepted his new rival’s appearance with a degree of equanimity, because that August, the two men agreed to go on a four-week safari together. Frédéric invited Alice to join them, and all three began making the necessary arrangements. On August 20, 1926, at a cost of forty-five pounds Raymund purchased a license to shoot two elephants. They engaged a white hunter to guide them and began to gather the necessary equipment for the trip. A safari was perhaps not the best idea under the circumstances. Alice, Frédéric, and Raymund would be spending both days and nights for a whole month in extremely close proximity to one another and without respite. Raymund would doubtless make frequent attempts to spend time alone with Alice and to persuade her to leave Frédéric. Meanwhile, Frédéric would be in no doubt of Alice’s feelings for Raymund and would continually have to stifle his sense of hurt pride. Any underlying tensions were bound to erupt in the isolated environment of the wilderness.
Even in the weeks leading up to the safari, friction between Raymund and Frédéric began to surface. There were frequent disputes, usually about literature, fueled by drink and altitude. Too gentlemanly to argue outright over Alice, they elected to fight about books instead. Both of them moved in literary circles and considered themselves intellectual. Raymund had attended a military school rather than a university, but he could nonetheless be dogmatic when it came to literary matters, readily defending his wide knowledge of the classics and his favorite nineteenth-century authors. He was indifferent to Shelley, loathed Byron, but loved William Thackeray, George Eliot, and Charles Dickens. Frédéric, on the other hand, was a legitimate intellectual, a graduate of Cambridge University, with a degree in English, and a friend and contemporary of Proust. He venerated in particular Honoré de Balzac, Gustav Flaubert, and Charles Baudelaire. Exactly what took place during the trip itself is unknown, but it is hard to imagine that the dynamic among the three participants was anything but fraught. It is perhaps not surprising that Alice decided to depart a week early and return to Wanjohi Farm without her husband or lover, anxious to leave the men to their own devices. Frédéric wanted to push on north to Uganda. Raymund was torn between going back with Alice—thereby ensuring he could have time alone with her—or going on with this next leg of the adventure. It is characteristic of Raymund that he put hunting first. He had been told that there were gorillas in the Ugandan forests near Lake Victoria and the Congo and had already decided that he would supplement his farming and family allowance by capturing live animals and selling them to European zoos. At the time, live gorillas fetched extremely high prices in Europe. Raymund elected to plow on.
Alice made her way home with a driver and a servant. It was mid-September, and building work on her house was almost finished. The Indian builders had moved quickly, working from dawn until dusk. In her three weeks away, the house had been transformed. Alice was able to unpack the rest of her crates and move furniture and beds into position. Idina was there to advise. Idina’s French maid, Marie, made curtains. Soon, Wanjohi Farm House began to look like home. But it was no longer a home Alice wished to share with Frédéric. Alone, she had time to think. She confided in Idina, telling her friend that she was contemplating divorce. Although Idina disliked Raymund, she did not find this news in the least bit shocking. After all, she was a veteran divorcée. “If Raymund makes you happy, darling, then that’s what you must do,” she advised. “But for heaven’s sake, don’t leave us; do come and live here near us in your angelic little valley.” Next, Alice drove to Nairobi in order to discuss matters with Margaret Spicer. Margaret warned Alice to be careful. The Spicers liked and admired Frédéric; meanwhile, they had met Raymund, knew of his reputation, and were wary. Alice returned to Wanjohi, but not before ordering some extra furniture from a Scottish joiner named Mr. Macrae, who made excellent Georgian-style pieces for colonial homes. In more ways than one, Alice was attempting to set her house in order.
Even though Alice had sought Margaret’s advice, it was becoming increasingly clear to her that she was not going to follow it. Frédéric and Raymund were due back very soon, and Alice began to steel herself for their arrival. To her surprise, Frédéric returned alone. Raymund had remained in Uganda, trying to negotiate a game-capturing safari, for which he needed special assistance and crates. It should have been Alice’s first inkling that she was not going to be Raymund’s first priority; instead, she reassured herself that it would not be long before he pitched up again. Meanwhile, there was obviously something terribly wrong with Frédéric. He was gaunt and complaining of fever. Alice sent him straight to bed, then drove to Nakuru to contact a doctor. The doctor offered the diagnosis of a severe and dangerous type of malaria, dosed Frédéric with quinine, and ordered Alice to apply cold, damp towels to her husband’s legs to draw the heat down from his head and reduce his temperature. Not wanting to take the local doctor’s word for it, Alice asked Idina about good doctors in Nairobi. Idina told her to drive directly to Nairobi to pick up Dr. R. W. Burkitt, the famed Irish surgeon, who was known for his rough but effective treatment of malarial patients.
Burkitt’s diagnosis was gloomy. Frédéric was suffering from the early signs of blackwater fever, a condition brought on by malaria and the dosing of quinine he had just received. Frédéric had contracted blackwater fever previously while serving as aide-de-camp in Morocco during World War I and had been invalided out of the French air force as a result. Once contracted, the disease can easily return if stimulated by a new bout of malaria and quinine. Frédéric’s urine was beginning to turn black, a sure symptom of the disease. It was decided that the count should return to Paris for treatment. The doctor also recommended that Frédéric stay away from places where he might contract malaria in the future. Remaining in Kenya on any permanent basis was out of the question. Alice was faced with the following dilemma: Should she return to Paris with Frédéric or stay in Kenya with Raymund? She was in love with Raymund, but Frédéric was her husband and he was dangerously ill.
Alice was honest with Frédéric. She informed him that she was not prepared to leave Kenya for good. The couple considered their options. Frédéric could return to France alone, leaving Alice to look after the menagerie. Or Alice could return to Paris with him for a temporary period, but then what would they do with the animals? They contemplated turning Samson loose, but he was only four or five months old, still an uneducated cub, and unable to fend for himself. Neither of them could bear the idea of losing Samson. The lion cub was so concerned about his master, he was visibly moping, laying his great head on Frédéric’s sickbed and insisting on sleeping there. Frédéric agreed to travel to France alone unless Alice could find someone to look after the pets. Valentino, the baboon, had recently escaped, taking his collar, chain, and ground anchor with him one night when everyone was down in Nairobi on a Muthaiga race-week binge. So that was one problem less. But Alice and Frédéric still needed someone to buy or shoot meat for the other animals. Geoffrey Buxton’s manager, who lived next door, agreed to supervise. Before they left for France, the de Janzés threw a housewarming and farewell party. That evening, Wanjohi Farm swarmed with cars, servants, and guests. Everyone bought a contribution in the form of drink—vodka, gin, wine, whiskey, and brandy. Dinner was laid out for twenty on the extended table in the dining room, and Samson wandered in and out. At one point in the evening, the lion cub snatched the tablecloth in his jaws and began nodding vigorously, eventually pulling the cloth off the table altogether, thereby sending glasses, knives, forks, and plates crashing to the floor.
In the days that followed, Alice and Frédéric said a last goodbye to their friends and their animals, then went by car to Nairobi and thence by train to Mombasa. Of his departure, Frédéric wrote in
Tarred with the Same Brush
:
Ordered home—failing in health—miserable in mind. Much as I would greet a home leave of even a long period, just as much do I resent this ordering out of the colony. My heart is out here—with my house—my boys [servants]—my zoo…. I would much rather die out here as they say I will, unless I return to temperate climes…. I will rest in the shade of the Mombasa] Club veranda, sipping pink gin—thinking, remembering, mostly Samson, his baby roundness; his affection which helped us through some hectic months of puppy hood, until he grew up to be a real man, fearless, quiet, understanding, a better friend than any of you could find in most men’s lives.
Raymund, busy with his new business ventures, seemed hardly affected by Alice’s departure. Even so, Alice was determined to shake herself free of Frédéric so that she could be with Raymund. She now had the travel time back to Paris in which to end her marriage. She needed to make clear to her devoted husband that after seeing him safely home, she intended to return to Kenya immediately. By the time the de Janzés reached Paris, Frédéric had agreed to Alice’s conditions. They would remain good friends, but the marriage was over. Alice would ask her lawyer to file for divorce. Nolwen and Paola would remain in Frédéric’s custody. On this matter, Alice was adamant, and Frédéric did not argue. Both girls had always been closer to their father than their mother. There was no question of Alice taking her daughters back with her to Africa. Yes, she loved her children, but if she did not feel well, then how could she be a good parent to them? She could always return to Paris for visits. There is no doubt that Frédéric was heartbroken by Alice’s decision to divorce. He loved her and was deeply attached to Kenya and to their animals. Now he was being banished, not only from Africa but also from his wife’s affections.
In Paris, the little girls were reunited with their parents, only to find their father sick and their mother on the verge of departure again. After only a month in Paris, Alice reembarked at Marseilles for Kenya, leaving Frédéric in the care of his mother and placing Nolwen and Paola with Aunt Tattie. It was October 1926. As a bizarre consolation prize, Alice promised Frédéric that she would bring Samson back to him in Paris before the end of the year. The count told her this would be impossible, but Alice was undeterred. Once again, she boarded the train to Nairobi at Mombasa. Alice was familiar with the route by now and she would have greeted the train’s arrival at Voi with delight: Dinner at the wayside station meant you had truly returned to Kenya. The menu was the same as it had been a year ago and Alice and the other old hands en route to Nairobi greeted each dish with acclamation: Brown Windsor soup, tinned salmon, meatballs, and fruit and custard. Alice was returning to Kenya alone and free of all obligations to her family, her husband, her children, and her rank. Instead, she had a new husband in her sights; a new house; dozens of friends waiting for her in the Wanjohi Valley; her animals, Samson, Fairyfeet, Monster, Roderigo, two more monkeys, and her dik-dik.
On her return to Kenya, Alice and Raymund officially became a couple, dining out together and sharing a bedroom. For the last three months of 1926, Alice spent most of her time with Raymund at Wanjohi Farm, channeling her energies into making improvements to her new home. She often visited Joss and Idina, whose notorious marriage had dwindled into a rather strained friendship by now. Raymund slithered over from his base in Njoro on a regular basis: It was not a long journey and there was a good road to Nakuru, and then on to Gilgil, before turning off to the Wanjohi Valley. There is no doubt that with their dark good looks they made a striking pair, but while Alice’s attraction to Raymund was developing into devotion, Raymund, although very keen on Alice, was instinctively more restrained. He was someone who would never be able to care about anyone quite as much as he did about himself. Nonetheless, Alice was determined to secure her divorce from Frédéric so that she could be free to remarry.