say there was no dispute as to who were the great butlers. What I should have

said was that there was no serious dispute among professionals of quality who

had any discernment in such matters. Of course, the servants' hall at Darlington

Hall, like any servants' hall anywhere, was obliged to receive employees of

varying degrees of intellect and perception, and I recall many a time having to

bite my lip while some employee - and at times, I regret to say, members of my

own staff - excitedly eulogized the likes of, say, Mr Jack Neighbours.

 

I have nothing against Mr Jack Neighbours, who sadly, I understand, was killed

in the war. I mention him simply because his was a typical case. For two or

three years in the mid-thirties, Mr Neighbours's name seemed to dominate

conversations in every servants' hall in the land. As I say, at Darlington Hall

too, many a visiting employee would bring the latest tales of Mr Neighbours's

achievements, so that I and the likes of Mr Graham would have to share the

frustrating experience of hearing anecdote after anecdote relating to him. And

most frustrating of all would be having to witness at the conclusion of each

such anecdote otherwise decent employees shaking their heads in wonder and

uttering phrases like: "That Mr Neighbours, he really is the best."

 

Now I do not doubt that Mr Neighbours had good organizational skills; he did, I

understand, mastermind a number of large occasions with conspicuous style. But

at no stage did he ever approach the status of a great butler. I could have told

you this at the height of his reputation, just as I could have predicted his

downfall after a few short years in the limelight.