suitably impressed on the evening of his meeting with Herr Ribbentrop at

Darlington Hall. Let me make clear, I was not for a moment suggesting that what

had initially threatened to be a disappointing evening for my employer had

turned into a triumphant one solely on account of the silver. But then, as I

indicated, Lord Darlington himself suggested that the silver might have been at

least a small factor in the change in his guest's mood that evening, and it is

perhaps not absurd to think back to such instances with a glow of satisfaction.

 

There are certain members of our profession who would have it that it ultimately

makes little difference what sort of employer one serves; who believe that the

sort of idealism prevalent amongst our generation - namely the notion that we

butlers should aspire to serve those great gentlemen who further the cause of

humanity - is just high-flown talk with no grounding in reality. It is of course

noticeable that the individuals who express such scepticism invariably turn out

to be the most mediocre of our profession - those who know they lack the ability

to progress to any position of note and who aspire only to drag as many down to

their own level as possible - and one is hardly tempted to take such opinions

seriously. But for all that, it is still satisfying to be able to point to

instances in one's career that highlight very clearly how wrong such people are.

Of course, one seeks to provide a general, sustained service to one's employer,

the value of which could never be reduced to a number of specific instances -

such as that concerning Lord Halifax. But what I am saying is that it is these

sorts of instances which over time come to symbolize an irrefutable fact; namely

that one has had the privilege of practising one's profession at the very

fulcrum of great affairs. And one has a right, perhaps, to feel a satisfaction