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high-grade Guernsey cattle in Kenya, for example. And thanks to advisers such as Boy Long and Delamere, they were able to avoid the most common blunders made by newcomers, such as putting very large bulls to native heifers, which would result in calving difficulties. The pioneers had learned the hard way. Once the conformation problem was recognised, half-bred bulls were used instead and heifers fared better.²²

      Joss knew a lot about horses from all his polo experience, and entrusted only Captain George Marcus Lawrence, a soldier settler who had ridden for the British Olympic team, with the schooling of his polo ponies and the training of his modest string of racehorses. Marc Lawrence would oversee the estate and the staff during Joss’s absences in Europe.²³

      Livestock auctions were held in the Rift Valley at Gilgil, Naivasha and Nakuru, through which the only road to Nairobi passed. Each boasted a post office, a DC’s office flying the Union Jack and a police post with the usual sprinkling of Indian dukas;^* the only petrol to be found between Nakuru and Nairobi was at the garage Fernside and Reliance Motors Ltd in Naivasha.²⁴ At the auctions Boy and Joss always stood out amongst the crowd, chatting together. Boy Long, like Joss, was good-looking and popular with women. According to Elspeth Huxley, Boy dressed ‘like an English country squire with a dash of the cowboy, accentuated by a broad-brimmed Stetson hat and a bright Somali shawl’. Joss too was establishing something of a reputation for his eccentric dress, but behind the libertine appearance of these two men were fine brains attuned to the business in hand.

      On sales days just before 9 a.m., sumptuous cars would park behind the auction stand. A fine red dust with a peculiarly harsh smell would be lifted by the wind, spiralling into the sky. As the dust settled behind Joss’s Hispano-Suiza when he stepped out, it would rise again around the hooves of the Abyssinian ponies as they were trotted out for inspection, ‘thin, footsore and weary’, having been driven down by Somali herders. Joss’s polo ponies as well as his hacks were taken from Abyssinian stock, because they were exceptionally sure-footed and coped well in the rough terrain.

      Wives ‘looking radiant and glamorous, smoking Egyptian cigarettes’, would gaze down at pens full of pawing, butting cattle as the bidding went on.²⁵ Idina never seemed to suffer in the dust and heat – one of her least tolerable offences in the eyes of her detractors. Joss and she both seemed to tolerate African conditions effortlessly.

      Joss often met up with D and Boy, whether at Soysambu or Nderit, where Boy lived, or Slains, and the three of them would discuss farming problems. Emergencies were forever cropping up: everyday shauries – crises among the African staff, thefts, sicknesses, snake bites and the sudden need for a vet.²⁶ Within eighteen months of arriving in Kenya Joss, who was not a vain man, felt that he had learned enough through practical experience to describe himself as a cattle farmer.

      To diversify their produce, Joss and Idina tried planting pyrethrum – in those days nobody knew for sure what would or would not grow at any altitude – a flower used in the production of crop insecticides. For this the land had to be tilled; teams of doe-eyed oxen, sixteen at a time, would drag the heavy tiller through the earth. If the wooden harness broke, it took Pidcock more than an hour to drill each hole through the hard olive-wood using a brace and bit, to make a new one. Slowly and painfully, several hundred of the Slains acres were transformed into furrow upon furrow of lacy white pyrethrum. What Joss learned here formed the basis of arguments he would later use as a member of Legislative Council, defending the high-quality production of pyrethrum for export.

      Elspeth Huxley praised the Hays’ farming activities: ‘They enhanced rather than damaged the natural charms of their valley, by leaving native trees alone and … by paddocking green pastures for butter-yellow Guernseys, stocking streams.’ Idina taught her shamba^* boys how to lay and look after lawns, to prune, and to cultivate English spring bulbs. Her legacy survives today on Mombasa’s north coast, where a garden of exotic shrubs and trees enhances the house where she died. At Slains they grew pansies, Albertine roses and petunias with success and around the cedar trees they planted daffodil bulbs. When these bloomed the effect was that of an English country estate. Elspeth Huxley’s parents, Joss and Nellie Grant, would drive over from Gikammeh to swap yarns and exotic cuttings.

      Joss’s and Idina’s neighbours ran into one another in Gilgil – everyone used the railway-siding there. The dusty main road sported one signpost, which pointed north to Nakuru and south to Nairobi.²⁷ Vitalbhai’s in Gilgil was the largest in a string of iron-roofed dukas. Just outside its entrance, a dhersie^† toiled away on his treadle Singer sewing machine. Here, Joss and Idina bought basic provisions as well as yards and yards of corduroy in different colours on the chit system. The dhersie would stitch kanzus – long, white cotton robes rather like night-shirts – which were worn with a red cummerbund by houseboys. He also made Idina’s and Joss’s slacks in the corduroy – a fashion set by Idina, so practical that everyone followed it.

      The ‘cow-town’ of Nakuru was the farming heart of the Rift Valley, and was Lord Francis Scott’s nearest shopping centre. The Scotts were never invited to Slains, though Joss and Francis Scott would become friends later. The Scotts, having met Idina first as Charles Gordon’s wife, never stopped condemning her. Eileen Scott wrote in her diary: ‘She has done a lot of harm to this country and behaved like a barmaid.’²⁸ Elspeth Huxley’s description of Eileen suggests that the disapproval would have been mutual: ‘Eileen Scott lingers in my memory draped in chiffon scarves, clasping a French novel and possibly a small yappy dog, and uttering at intervals birdlike cries of “Oh François! François!”.’²⁹

      Notwithstanding her low opinion of Idina, Lady Eileen was among the first to recognise potential in Joss: once he joined the Naivasha Farmers’ Association she found him ‘much improved’. Joss’s success there came as a surprise to some, Lady Eileen continued: ‘Contrary to the expectations of most people, Joss Erroll was voted to the chair … It is a pity Joss hasn’t had a year’s more practice and experience; he has a brain like lightning and it is difficult for him to listen patiently to this slow-minded, if sound, community. However it is a very great step in the right direction, he is very able and a gentleman.’

      While the Scotts were never guests at Slains, Joss and Idina did not want for extra companionship. With an eclectic flow of friends and visitors, local or from overseas, at Slains the mood of each gathering was dependent on kindred spirits – playful, debauched, sophisticated or civilised. Idina would preside, perpetually reloading her long amber cigarette-holder. The more often her glass was recharged – ‘Another little ginnies, dahling,’ she would drawl – the more amorous she became, a signal that things were about to liven up.³⁰ Joss, however, ‘never smoked, seldom drank, sipping wine in small quantities at dinner; he never touched spirits’.³¹ He would act as barman to his guests, topping up their glasses for hours on end without any sign of irritation. Whenever alcohol was served at parties, whether in the role of host or guest, Joss kept his glass full to avoid seeming to be a killjoy when others were knocking it back. He would decline courteously if anyone pressed him to drink more and, with a knowing twinkle, would murmur, ‘I’m not going to impair my performance.’³²

      Joss and Idina had their own polo ground at Slains and played at weekends, generally attracting a crowd of spectators.³³ The polo crowd loved Joss: ‘He was a first-class player … Clever, always had a brain … and was always ready

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