Errol Trzebinski - The Life and Death of Lord Erroll - The Truth Behind the Happy Valley Murder

After race week, back to the Wanjohi Valley the Hays and the de Janzés would go, for another month or so of isolation.

While out riding one morning, Frédéric and Alice discovered a lioness with three cubs hiding under some rocks and went regularly to the lair to observe them. Soon afterwards two young Indian princes with an older ADC called at Wanjohi Farm to invite the Hays and the de Janzés to come for dinner at their camp. They accepted gladly and discovered the camp was supplied with every luxury. The hunters displayed their trophies, ‘a greater kudu and two lion skins’. When Frédéric found out where these had been shot, he realised the princes had found their family of lions. ‘But didn’t you see any cubs?’ he asked. No, they had only seen the male and female, who had charged so they shot them both. Next morning Frédéric and Joss rode out to look for the cubs. ‘The poor little brutes had starved for three days, one was already dead, another died that night.’ Frédéric and Joss were angry with the hunters, for they believed that the killing of a female ‘of any of the species’ was a crime. 59 Samson, the surviving cub, remained with the de Janzés, and gradually the dogs, ponies and even Valentino the baboon accepted him. Samson and Frédéric established a deep rapport. When Frederic fell ill with malaria, Samson would sit by his bed like a dog, waiting for his master to regain health.

They all had adventures with wild animals. One insistent elephant wandered up the valley from Laikipia on to Slains, trampling the Hay shamba. Joss would not allow anyone to shoot the animal but, needing a gunshot to scare it off, sent over to a neighbour for help. The neighbour appeared with a large rifle and some servants, and this shooting party succeeded in driving the elephant away, getting within a hundred yards of it, into thick forest. Then it came swiftly down wind, having heard the men, ambushing and knocking the helpful neighbour down with a side slash of its tusk. The man squirmed between the elephant’s front feet as it dug around with its trunk. He then claimed he stuck his fingers in its nostrils and was finally saved by being kicked backwards into a clump of thorns. Dr Henderson of Nakuru treated him for three broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder, ‘all in return for the kindness of loaning his gun’. He was black and blue all over. 60

Samson disgraced himself at the first party that the de Janzés gave at Wanjohi Farm. The place was ‘hectic with twenty people staying, in and about the tents in front of their big veranda, and the courtyard at the back … was cluttered with cars’. The African staff loved entertaining and parties, notwithstanding all the additional work. Guests often brought their own cooks with them, who were ‘bringers of news from afar’ for the household staff. Africans are born chefs. The local staple diet is posho – maize meal – hardly varying over the years, and yet they astonished their employers with their diverse repertoire. Idina’s chef whipped up omelettes as light as air, or produced paupiettes of sole or truite meunière for as many guests as was wished, often at short notice. At Wanjohi Farm, every bench, easy chair, camp chair and dining chair had been brought into commission, and, ‘for once the table looked magnificent with a tablecloth and all necessary “adjuncts” in their place’. Samson, ‘much petted and spoiled’, soon got into the party spirit. Frédéric, changing indoors, heard the first crash: ‘I was in my bath … a towel, a leap and I was rescuing the table fittings where Samson tugged determinedly – a sparkle of fun in his eyes. A broken plate, sundry glasses on the floor – he was thoroughly enjoying himself.’

Everyone contributed to their ‘Dutch treat party’, where Joss and Frédéric, ‘mere abstainers’, handed out cocktails. Joss would mix the fashionable drinks of the day expertly, shaking up Manhattans and Martinis. Cocktails and jazz were expressions of modern life which Idina and Alice had brought from Paris. From Naivasha, the two newcomers Major and Mrs Ramsay-Hill had brought along stout and champagne because Molly’s favourite cocktail was Black Velvet, a mixture of champagne and Guinness. 61 Idina’s tipple was gin and orange bitters. During the main course at dinner Molly Ramsay-Hill suddenly leapt to her feet and let out a wild shriek as a servant dropped a bowl of mayonnaise down her back, having tripped over Samson. Now, as Molly retreated to clean herself up, she too almost tripped over Samson’s outstretched paw. Someone leapt forward in time to prevent a heavy fall. ‘The good lady took a lot of pacifying … dinner came to an end without interruption.’

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