Someone Wishes to Speak to You (11 page)

Although this was not the response that Sir Colin would have wished for, he was delighted with the success of Sebastian’s military career. ‘Quite right,’ he acquiesced. ‘It seems the Life Guards is the place for you for the time being – you stay put. What about you, Mathew?’

Sir Colin found his younger son’s future career path more difficult to comprehend.

‘Well, for my part,’ began Mathew, ‘I’m hopeful that I’ll be awarded the PhD by late autumn, and after that I plan to come back to Hartington for Christmas and New Year. That’s when I’ll be looking at all my options – which, in years to come, could well include taking over the estate.’

However, Mathew had gone on to explain how his current ambition was to return to Africa for a few years to continue with his studies on primate behaviour. ‘I really believe there is so much that could be learnt from the communicative skills of the monkey kingdom that could be very relevant to human knowledge. I want to expand my studies into other groups of primates.’ Mathew’s plan was to study within the African guenon group of primates, belonging to the
Cercopithecus
species.

‘So you’re planning to go back to Africa . . . What do you think of Rhodesia, would that be any good to you? I’ve just heard from a great friend of mine, Sir Roger Willock. He served as a brother officer of mine in the 12th Royal Lancers during the Italian Campaign. He’s soon to take up the
appointment as Britain’s senior representative in Ian Smith’s Republic of Rhodesia. At the end of the year, if you’re still keen to return to Africa to carry on with your field studies, I’ll write to him – I’m sure he’ll be only too pleased to help you in any way possible.’

This was exciting news; Mathew was already aware from Osman Hill’s primate monograph No. 6, which included all members of the superfamily
Cercopithecoidea
, that both the Vervet monkey,
Cercopithecus pygerythrus
, and a rarer sub-species of the Samango group of monkeys,
Cercopithecus albogularis
, inhabited the south-eastern district of Rhodesia.

So it was agreed that if Mathew had still got his mind set on pursuing post-doctorate primate studies in Africa, his father would write to Sir Roger when he returned to the UK for Christmas. Sir Colin felt immense gratitude towards his younger son for giving him a glimmer of hope that one day he might take on the management of Hartington Hall.

Sebastian and Mathew, in spite of their very different careers, had always been the greatest of friends and they both relished the week that they had together prior to Mathew’s return to the USA. On their final ride out in the Home Park, the brothers discussed the idea of Mathew taking over the running of the estate. ‘What do you think of the idea, Sebastian? You are the older brother, and I certainly don’t want to tread on your toes, but I can see you don’t want to give up the Life Guards.’ ‘I think it’s a splendid idea! Father will be absolutely delighted that one of us is considering the idea of running the estate, and you’re quite right, it really isn’t for me. You go ahead with my blessing, Mathew – you know I’m always there for if you need my help.’ Sebastian was well aware that his father would never have requested him to resign his commission, for ever since he had been awarded the prestigious RMA’s Queen’s Medal at Sandhurst, Sir Colin had recognised that he would always be a career soldier and would always nurture the ultimate accolade of becoming colonel of his regiment.

On their return to the stable yard, Mathew was tempted to tell his brother something about Lucienne, but failed to do so and felt quite deceitful as a result. He considered that his inability to speak about his feelings had something to do with the two contrasting worlds of Bukavu and the Hartington Hall estate. All Sebastian had become aware of with regards to any enthusiasm that his younger brother had for a member of the fairer sex, was when he had overheard some of Mathew’s telephone conversation with Antonia Clinton-Kemp. He had been passing through the hallway when he heard his brother say, ‘Antonia, I must say it’s been delightful to see you again. We made a fine team at the Bardon Towers tournament, don’t you think? Yes, quite . . . I’m just calling to say I’ll be back by Christmas, I’ll be in touch if you’re down from Cambridge . . . Yes, that would be splendid . . .’

On the 1 August, 1973, Mathew landed on a British Airways Boeing 747 jumbo jet at Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport, and was met by an enthusiastic Lucienne Luzembo.

4

A Moral Dilemma

After having been away for almost eighteen months, Mathew took some time to readjust to his life at Emory University. Going from the tranquility of the Yorkshire Dales to Atlanta was almost as much of a contrast as that between his small, isolated cabin by the entrance to the Kahuzi-Biega National Park and the opulent environment of Hartington Hall. The constant noise of traffic in downtown Atlanta, the bustle of people and the piercing sirens were all starting to have a rather suffocating effect upon him, and he was beginning to yearn for the secluded lifestyle that he had so much enjoyed during the earlier part of the year.

On Lucienne’s arrival in the USA four months previously, Professor Osman Hill had arranged suitable accommodation for her in easy reach of both Emory University and his office at the Yerkes Regional Primate Research Center. Lucienne had started to settle into her undergraduate life in Atlanta by the time Mathew arrived. The professor’s wife, Yvonne, had been particularly welcoming by making sure that she had everything she required and taking her to see some of the city’s major landmarks. Within a week of Mathew’s return to America, he and Lucienne were invited to dinner at the Hills’ home in the fashionable uptown district of Buckhead, as the professor was so eager to hear first-hand about his observations on the eastern lowland gorilla species in the wild.

During Mathew’s first few days back, he kept reminding himself about the strength of his recent emotions for Antonia Clinton-Kemp and to be guarded in his affections towards Lucienne in case he gave the impression he wanted a committed long-term relationship. However, in spite of such a righteous intention, he was surprised how quickly his deep feelings for her were rekindled and how very much he enjoyed her ebullient company.

So it was on a hot and rather humid August evening, with thunder in the air, that Mathew had picked Lucienne up in a taxi from her small flat. As they drove through midtown Atlanta, they shared their excitement about the evening ahead.

‘I must say I feel very honoured they’ve asked us for dinner at their home,’ said Mathew. ‘I’ve never been invited before so it’ll be interesting to see Osman Hill in his own environment. He’s supposed to be an excellent host.’

‘I’ve spent quite a bit of time with Yvonne, she’s been so kind to me, but it will be great to get to know the professor on a more personal level,’ replied Lucienne. She took Mathew’s hand and began to speak in a hushed tone. ‘I was thinking that it might be best if we project our relationship as friendly but professional. If they think there’s anything going on between us it might not look good, you know. . . They might think it will get in the way of our work.’

‘That’s a good point. Well, there’s no reason for them to think anything other than that we developed a friendship while I was studying the gorillas of Kahuzi-Biega and that we share a professional interest.’

‘And in many ways that’s true, but I think we should emphasise that we have a mutual ambition to do as much as possible to promote the future conservation of the eastern lowland gorilla in the wild. In fact, we could jointly organise some fundraising activities in support of Adrien’s anti-poaching patrols in Kahuzi-Biega . . . What do you think?’

In spite of Mathew’s previously vowed intention to become
more reserved during his meetings with Lucienne, throughout their taxi ride they had held hands with the enthusiasm and intensity of two young lovers. It was almost as if their almost six months of separation had only been a matter of a few hours, with the intimacy of Mathew’s rescue of Lucienne from Lake Kivu fresh in their memories.

Mathew had always found his professor to be extremely supportive to any student of natural history, no matter what their background or what level of education they had achieved, as long as they showed enthusiasm and dedication to the subject. Osman Hill was well respected for his eagerness to help young researchers in any way he could. The more Mathew got to know his mentor away from his academic teachings, the more he came to recognise his strong sense of humour and his quick and ready wit. Also, within his small, close-knit academic circle of friends, he was well acknowledged to be an excellent host, a connoisseur of good wines and the producer of a variety of exotic dishes. Mathew had been amused to hear a rumour that some of Osman Hill’s colleagues and staff at the Yerkes Center viewed him as ‘the archetypical English scholar-gentleman who was inclined to view those from the “colonies” as a step below the British!’

‘Put me out of my misery, Mathew – I must hear all about those gorillas in Kahuzi-Biega – I want every detail, don’t leave anything out,’ smiled Osman Hill almost as soon as they sat down. Mathew was in his element as he described the make-up and social grouping of his study family; the way they interacted with one another and his interpretation of their vocalisations, facial signals and eye flashes. ‘Apart from George Schaller’s excellent observations on the mountain gorilla, and some more recent papers by Dian Fossey, there’s really been little research and even less published about the eastern lowland gorilla,’ explained Mathew. ‘That’s what made
this particular species of such interest to me.’ After almost an hour of quite intensive questions and answers, it had been obvious to Lucienne that Osman Hill had been totally absorbed in and had very much enjoyed what his doctorate student had been able to tell him.

‘I would very much like to see your sketches of the facial patterns next time we see you . . . I did the anatomical figures for the first six volumes of the primate monograph,’ said Yvonne, finally getting a word in edgeways in the question and answer session between her husband and Mathew.

‘When I was first a visiting scholar at Emory,’ continued Osman Hill, ‘it must have been 1958, we had Jane Goodall studying here.’ Jane Goodall had studied primate behaviour under him in preparation for her long-term and now famous field studies of wild chimpanzees at the Gombe Stream Research Centre in Tanzania. ‘Have you seen her book
In the Shadow of Man
? It’s just been published, and she’s done a very professional job of presenting her field studies – fascinating, you must read it.’

As the friends enjoyed the generous supply of fine Californian wine, the conversation became more general. Yvonne suggested Mathew and Lucienne might enjoy a visit to the town of Macon, some 140 km to the southeast of Atlanta. ‘It’s known for having a Cherry Blossom Festival and as the home of the Georgia Music Hall, but the reason I’m suggesting that you visit is to see a major private collection of African-American art and historical and cultural artefacts. There are some fascinating pieces. The owner is one of our friends, Dr Murray Cohen – I’m sure he’d be delighted to show you around.’

‘We may well think about that,’ said Mathew, winking at Lucienne across the table. ‘I could do with a break. Now, Professor, enough about me. Why don’t you tell us about your career before you ended up at Emory?’

Osman Hill went on to give a fascinating account of his early days after qualifying as a doctor at the University of
Birmingham’s medical school. In 1930, his career had taken him to Sri Lanka (then Ceylon) where he had been appointed as Professor of Anatomy at the University of Colombo Medical College. What Mathew had found of particular interest is that apart from the professor’s university teaching and academic responsibilities, he had taken the opportunity to pursue anthropological studies of the indigenous people as well as researching the comparative anatomy of some of the local primates.

Although Osman Hill’s international reputation was that of a distinguished anatomist and eminent primatologist, Mathew had found it most revealing to hear about his breadth of interests in so many other aspects of natural history. He had managed to maintain a private menagerie of exotic and native species in Colombo comprising lorises, purple-faced leaf monkeys, cockatoos, red-fan parrots, star and leopard tortoises, a giant Galapagos tortoise and some ruddy mongooses. In the past, Mathew had rather struggled with the fact that to date, his academic studies had been rather restrictive and had prevented him from looking into other aspects of the natural world.

‘Coffee, anyone?’ asked Yvonne, carrying a tray into the room. It was then that the professor picked up a small museum-type specimen jar full of formalin, which had been partly hidden by a bowl of flowers in the middle of the dining room table and overshadowed on either side by bottles of Napa Valley Sauvignon Blanc and Pinot Noir. Although Mathew had noticed the presence of the bottle containing what looked to him like a foetus of some type of diminutive primate, he had not drawn Lucienne’s attention to it. Osman Hill’s deep-blue eyes were twinkling as he had held the bottle of formalin up to the light, rather like a small boy with his favourite conker.

‘I’ve got something special here, take a look at this!’ he said as he started to point out the anatomical features of a
neonate of the threatened South American Goeldi’s monkey,
Callimico goeldii
. He clearly regarded this rare specimen to be the jewel in the crown of his collection. ‘I can’t tell you how pleased I was to get it – this neonate arrived from a research laboratory in Miami, just in time for tonight.’ It was his
pièce de résistance
for the evening. ‘I’m currently writing a paper on obstetric mishaps in marmosets,’ he informed them with the enthusiasm of a surgeon about to carry out his first operation. ‘Now I can include comparative observations of Goeldi’s monkey. So little is known about the species, it’s going to be fascinating,’ he said, turning the jar around to look at the specimen from every angle.