The Editor had the privilege of meeting Jim at the Eastbourne lunch and
knowing that Jim had already written a book asked if he would consider
contributing to http://www.koi-hai.com/
Jim kindly agreed and below are his interesting offerings including his
description of his original hiring in London
Jim Glendinning wrote the book "Tale of a Tea Planter" which
was privately printed--copyright Jim Glendinning 1990"
Available from http://www.abebooks.com/
Jim's Initial Story
F & T Story
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May 18 2006
Jims initial story
I stepped over the cobbled stones in the little square off Mincing Lane, and which led
me to the offices of Walter Duncan & Goodrickes.
This was in March 1949 and I was visting at the request of the Directors, and in answer
to my request to join their Company which comprised of 12 tea estates in The
Dooars-West Bengal.
The Board Room was upstairs and the Clerks worked below. Flint nosed Directors grilled
me for a long while, and I gathered they were unhappy concerning my very age and
which was only 20 years. Finally the Chairman concluded the interview by asking if I
had any questions ?. I had in fact just one, and I had done my Home Work.
I asked not to be sent to Danguar Jhar T.E. where there had been recently severe
rioting and The Manager left for dead.
This vital information had been gathered by my family,s solicitor, based as he was
in Bedford Row-London.
Those who were dozing in their chairs suddenly woke up, and their was a deathly
hush. How could this young Cub from Somerset come by this information and
which they were trying to hide from The City ?.
The end result was I was given the job, and worked for 12 years for this Company,
both as Assistant and later Manager.
Jim Glendinning
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May19 2006
During my 12 years in Tea in the Dooars of West Bengal, there were two characters I
remember like the very name Dooars, which in itself was unusual. Its named was
derived from a mixture of British soldier and Indian Sepoy. It meant Doors from
Tibet into India
T was outstanding as a Planter, and F was a complete disaster. Both were much the
same age and worked within our Company called Walter Duncan & Goodrickes.
T joined in around 1938 and very soon went down with Black Water Fever and which
killed most men.
He survived and one day descended the stairs from his bedroom in the Assistants
bungalow of Baintgoorie and queried a large wooden object lying on the front veranda ?.
He was to learn it was his coffin that had been prepared for him.
The Company wanted rid of him back home to Aberdeen. But the man so loved his
job he begged to stay, and a way round was found. We had one outlying tea estate
of some 1000 acres away from the tea district and surrounded by Paddy Fields. He
was told he could go there and stay there. This was preferable to the story I
heard from a man who joined Tea in Ceylon as a Creeper.He finally reached this isolated
tea garden, having been carried the last 15 miles by buffaloe cart.
The Manager told him he was never ever to leave the Boundaries during his five year
contract. In fact it turned out to be not that bad. The manager attended The Planters
Club some 20 miles away, leaving behind a rather beautiful wife, and to whose willing
bed the garden assistant would jump.
T became Manager and turned the estate into the best money spinner we had, and
was eventually promoted to Superintendent.
F then came in behind and quickly nearly ruined the whole place. He was both
coarse and stupid. He kept two Indian ladies within the Manager's bungalow, when
it was taboo to keep one, never mind two.
He was one day surrounded by the men in the factory compound and beaten to
the ground and left for dead.
The Deputy Commissioner very nearly forced the closure of this estate, but the
fact F survived did ease the situation.
F returned a year later as Chief Engineer and turned into a Miser. Every rupee was
sent to an Investment Company in London who sent glowing reports.
Finally on his retirement he learnt the bitter truth. The investments were all a
fraud and there was nothing. He went into an iron monger, bought a length of
rope and hung himself in a Public lavatory in the West End.
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