Dudley Huggins: Memoir of a West Indian's Journey.

This is the chronicle of my polymath father whose distinctive feature was that he treated everyone regardless of who they were with the same graciousness and kindness. Adjectives I would use to describe him are: altruistic, determined and ambitious, yet modest and dignified. He didn’t seek fanfare or public recognition but was calm, genteel, courteous and enormously kind. He was an exemplary Christian, yet quiet in his faith, Methodism. He was an avid, omnivorous reader, knowledgeable about history and always abreast of current world events. Here is his story. 

He was born in Bath Village, Nevis on 18th November, 1905, and was the fifth and youngest child in the family. His parents were well into middle age, forty-eight and forty years old respectively, at the time of his birth. He was christened Hastings when he was three months old on 18^th February, 1906. His godparents were Joseph Howell; Maud Hanley, his mother’s youngest, spinster sister, an accomplished organist who died from a rare skin disease; and Ann Howell. It was not until 22^nd September, 1923 that the young Hastings assumed formally by deed poll the name of Dudley, which he had been using since 1915, when almost ten years old. Unhappily I cannot recall why he selected that particular name but he was known by it for the rest of his life.

In 1911, as a five-year-old, he caught typhoid fever and became so ill he was expected to die. He was nursed by his mother, as opposed to his nanny, and that created a much stronger bond between them. After about six weeks, when he was somewhat recovered and considered no longer infectious, he was sent to live with his maternal grandmother, Bridget Angelica Hanley (née O’Brien), at Brown Pasture to recuperate. There he was lonely and homesick. When eventually he had regained his strength, he returned to the family home, Longstone House in Charlestown, and to the Excelsior School, a private school run by Miss Helen Lyn Bridgewater. All of the children went to Excelsior School, which upheld the standards of the Victorian era’s culture and respectability and prepared children for the Cambridge School Certificate Examination.

It was at Christmas time that he used to remember his childhood days much more clearly than at other times. He recalled how he would look forward to the toys he received, how he used to steal the rich black cake, which was made only at Christmas, how he ate so much and so often that before Christmas was over he felt in need of a rest after his great exertions eating and smashing up his toys. He remembered too that he would be first awakened on Christmas morning by the sound of singers, who went in groups of about twelve from house to house singing Christmas songs. Some of these Christmas hymns had very pretty tunes and even prettier words. These songs were the unmistakable signal that Christmas had arrived.

In 1916 at the age of almost eleven, my father was sent to Antigua to the Grammar School, where Archdeacon S E Ranch was the headmaster. In those school years, he boarded initially with the unconventional Ultima Bellot and her husband, who was an agriculturist. She was the youngest daughter of the eccentric Semper family of St Kitts, thus her name, which means literally “the last”. My father later moved on to Harry Carrington’s family, where he learnt his appreciation for literature and language; and finally he went to board with Walter (1850-1917) and Florence Malone and their nine children. Walter Malone was a somewhat reserved man and a clerk in the steamship agency. Favourite leisure pursuits of these families were books, painting and poetry, and talking with all. Remember, in those days in the isolated New World, which took two weeks to reach by sea from Great Britain, there being no aircraft, ownership of radios and gramophones was far from universal and it was long before the invention of television.

In school games he played in the first eleven at cricket and was reputedly a good bowler whilst also achieving even scores as a batsman.