This elusive figure emerges in an unexpected place. In 1945, Ambedkar dedicated his searing critique, What Gandhi and Congress Have Done to the Untouchables, to a cryptic “F,” accompanied by a line of biblical devotion: “In Thy Presence is the Fullness of Joy.” The dedication, intimate yet opaque, offers no clues—only questions.
The mystery deepens in the work of historian William Gould, whose book Ambedkar in London (Hurst Publishers) attempts to trace the contours of this shadowy relationship. During his time at the London School of Economics and Political Science (LSE) in the early 1920s, Ambedkar resided at a London address referred to as 10KHR. It was from here that a steady stream of letters reached him from a woman who signed herself variously as “F,” “Fx,” and “Little Pal.”
These letters did not cease with his return to India. They continued, suggesting a bond that outlived geography. Yet, intriguingly, while her letters—preserved in later compilations—hint at emotional intimacy, there is little evidence of equally expressive replies from Ambedkar.
Speculation about Lady ‘F’ has long circulated among scholars. Some identified her as “Fanny Fitzgerald,” imagining a romantic attachment. Others proposed she was the daughter of the landlady at 10KHR, possibly connected to the India Office. But historical records complicate these claims. No official trace of such an individual exists.
Instead, property records point to a Mrs. Frances Proust as the owner of the residence until 1941—a woman previously described as a widow, but in reality, a mother of four. Census data from 1921 lists her as the head of the household, engaged in unpaid domestic duties. Hardly the profile of a mysterious correspondence.
More recent research offers a more plausible lead. The 1921 London census records another resident at 10KHR: Florence Ballard, a clerk, born in 1892—just a year younger than Ambedkar. Her presence at the same address, combined with the timeline of letters sent from there as late as 1925, makes her a compelling candidate for the enigmatic “F.”
Yet, certainty remains elusive.
For William Gould, the significance of Lady ‘F’ may lie less in her precise identity and more in what she represented. Ambedkar’s London years were formative but fraught. He grappled with a layered sense of alienation—an Indian in Europe, and a Dalit among Indians. In such a landscape, Lady ‘F’ may have been more than a correspondent; she may have been a confidante, a source of emotional steadiness in an unfamiliar world.
In the end, Lady ‘F’ remains an enigma—part historical puzzle, part human story. Her identity may never be fully uncovered, but her presence adds a deeply personal dimension to the life of a man often remembered only in monumental terms.