Innholdsfortegnelse for November 5, 2025 i Country Life

Future Publishing Ltd, 121–141 Westbourne Terrace, Paddington, London W2 6JR 0330 390 6591; www.countrylife.co.uk ON May 18, 1915, Capt Anthony Wilding, a New Zealand tennis star, wrote to his family from northern France that he had ‘a job on hand which is likely to end in gun’. The next day, he was killed by a shell. On July 31 of the same year, Capt John Liddell, a pilot, managed to land his smashed-up plane and severely battered self safely in Allied territory, only to die of gangrene a month later. On October 13, 1942, Agnes Wilkie, a bespectacled Canadian nurse with a gentle face, finally let go of her friend’s hand and slipped to her death in icy waters off the Newfoundland coast when SS Caribou was struck by torpedoes.…

Grandma’s engagement ring IN the pantheon of stories offering respite from our dark times, the jewellery heist at the Musée du Louvre has to be number one. October’s Napoleonic loot, worth more than €88 million (£77 million), would have been an outrage were it not for the sheer absurdity of its acquisition: a daylight robbery on a Sunday morning using a German furniture elevator that ushered the criminals to safety faster than the guards could scream sacré bleu. Museums worldwide are on high alert as auctioneers capitalise on a new-found love of 19th-century regalia. At London’s Prince Charles Cinema, the programme has been peppered with old heist films such as 1995’s Heat. A handful of observers have thought it necessary to discuss the incident in retributory terms: the thieves stole…

Vestiges of devastation DR MARK BAKER stands in the former dining room of the castle facing a broad window. Neatly piercing the glass in each radiating panel of the small rose at its apex is a bullet hole. The damage is evidence of a near-disastrous period of neglect that almost brought about the destruction of this extraordinary building. Gwyrch Castle is a fantastical creation, its walls and towers strung along the edge of an escarpment that overlooks the sea. It was begun in 1819 to the designs of Liverpool architect and antiquarian Thomas Rickman for Lloyd Hesketh Bamford-Hesketh, as a memorial to his Welsh mother and her ancestors, the Lloyds of Gwrych. The castle remained fully furnished until the late 1960s, but thereafter began to fall gradually into disrepair. From…

RECENTLY on Desert Island Discs, the artist and printmaker Angela Harding requested a book with Thomas Bewick illustrations—‘my great love’—to take to her solitary exile. Bewick (1753–1828) achieved the accolade of becoming collectible in his own lifetime, so exquisite and accurate were his engravings, perhaps most famously in illustrations of Aesop’s Fables. ‘Bewick appears to have had a faultless sense of exactly what line was needed, and above all where to stop, as if there were no pause for analysis or reflection between the image in the mind and the hand on the wood,’ wrote his biographer Jenny Uglow. A robust personality, he was no fan of school, playing truant birdwatching on the Northumbrian moors, but when he could combine his affinity with the natural world, his artistic talent and…

A gentleman… 1) Writes prompt and pithy thank-you letters 2) Never runs for things in public 3) Learns and uses waiters’ names 4) Is a good kisser 5) Enjoys gin in a tumbler, not a balloon 6) Listens more than he speaks 7) Doesn’t modify restaurant orders 8) Believes Roger Moore was the best 007 9) Doesn’t honestly care where someone went to school 10) Takes the nearest canapé on the tray 11) Can poach and scramble eggs without fuss 12) Speaks to an assistant the same way he would a Duke 13) Would never change the seating plan 14) Is comfortable using moisturiser, but never hair gel 15) Knows how to iron a shirt 16) Is always the first person to say hello 17) Doesn’t wear tank tops to…

MY hero as a young boy was the Milky Bar Kid. He was a cowboy, but, more importantly, he wore, like me, a pair of glasses. He made spectacles cool and that was very important. I had almost forgotten about him until I walked into E. B. Meyrowitz in the Royal Arcade, just off Bond Street, W1. Here, I met the utterly delightful Sheel Davison-Lungley, owner and inspiration behind the company and a shoo-in for the nicest proprietor I have ever met. The extraordinary thing about glasses is that, as a population, we take so little interest in what they look like—and perhaps more importantly, how they make you look. Yet, in my case, I wear them all the time. They are the first thing I put on in the…

AS regular readers will be aware, I am a huge fan of perennial edibles. So often, their leaves, fruit, flowers, buds or roots are not only as delicious as annuals, but they’re easier to come by, thanks to the plant being typically more resilient to the vagaries of the British climate and its pests and diseases. That said, flavour is the king: perennial or not, you’ll not find me recommending anything that’s less than a culinary pleasure. Tree leaves, for instance, might best demonstrate where the crucial line between edible and palatable is drawn. I wouldn’t bother with most and although beech and maple are two of the many whose leaves can be eaten—and are pretty good if you catch them young—there are only a few trees I would especially…

IN early summer, wind cools the sliver of coastline that connects Fonteblanda and Porto Santo Stefano in south-west Tuscany, Italy. In the crescent-shaped bay, the water is whipped up into one million tiny stiff peaks and windsurfers take to their narrow boards. On land, the wind is tamer, reduced to little more than a whisper by the thousands of pine trees that stand sentry on the land’s edge, their sharp needles littering the sandy and rocky beaches below. Villa Talamo hides behind automatic gates at the end of a dirt track, somewhere towards the north end of the bay. It is a stark, but handsome, burned-butter building with teal shutters and once operated as a Benedictine monastery. It was built in the 18th century by someone whose brother built an…

Time for (more) tea I WOULD like to add to the story of the Deene Park obelisk in Northamptonshire (‘Sphinx outside the box’, October 8) and the teapot that tops it (Letters, October 22). Shortly after I arrived at Deene Park as head gardener, the then chatelaine, Marian Brudenell, asked me what topiary form I could create from four unshapely yew bushes, that were planted in box-hedged beds of clipped lavenders on the parterre. My instinctive response—‘Teapots, to complement the one on the obelisk’—was well received. Twenty-four years later, I am still tending the topiary teapots (below): I love them, and they always delight our garden visitors, too. Andrew Jones, Northamptonshire Get your goat YOUR mention of feral goats being culled (Barometer, October 15) brought back the memory of an…

King Henry VIII and the Barber Surgeons by Hans Holbein ‘A Tudor warship lost in 1545 and raised from the Solent in 1982, Mary Rose is a remarkable time capsule, preserving thousands of artefacts and the stories of the people who lived and served aboard her. However, there’s still so much we don’t know and that’s why this painting matters. Painted by Hans Holbein only five years before the ship sank, King Henry VIII and the Barber Surgeons offers a tantalising link to Mary Rose. It’s possible that one of the five unnamed figures depicted next to the King is the ship’s surgeon. His initials, WE, appear on medical tools recovered from the wreck, including a bleeding bowl. His velvet-lined coif speaks of his training, status and wealth and was…

HALF a century ago, under the leadership of its dynamic new director Roy Strong, the V&A Museum held two exhibitions: ‘The Destruction of the Country House’ (1974) and ‘Change and Decay’—the future of our churches (1977). Although it is safe to say that almost everything has changed for the better for the country house since then, it is, sadly, equally accurate to observe that not enough has changed for churches, especially small rural ones, too many of which are vulnerable to closure and decline. Yet they are a crucial part of our heritage, with more than 20,000 beautiful and historic listed churches in the UK. Following the country-house exhibition, there was a well-orchestrated campaign led by the National Trust and the newly formed Historic Houses Association, backed by huge public…

WHEN Shakespeare rhapsodised about these isles as ‘a blessed plot’, he could have had our happy lack of dangerous animals in mind. We have only one poisonous snake, the adder (Vipera berus)—Northern Ireland is free even of this serpent—and the surrounding silver sea is devoid of the sort of sharks that bite you in two. Having found bears unbearable, we removed them from the scene. The packs of wolves were similarly sent packing. Yes, savage and life-threatening animals are luckily found ‘abroad’… or perhaps not. Out there in the non-wilds of Britain exist potentially lethal creatures. Some, such as domestic dogs, could be said to be hiding in plain view; in 2023–24, there were 16 deaths in England and Wales due to canine attacks (the wolf’s revenge, perhaps). Other could-be…

THE word ‘Glastonbury’ tends to inspire more than a flinch from readers. The heady stench of soil, alcohol and sweat is enough to turn most people off. For some, the issue is political: last summer, Spectator columnist Rod Liddle wrote that dropping a bomb on Worthy Farm would solve most of Britain’s problems. He was joking, supposedly. Yet this particular story, as so many about live music do, begins here in Somerset, three days into the 2025 festival, on a warm and fuzzy Saturday night. The crowds surrounding The Other Stage are euphoric, amid the sort of atmosphere that contradicts the idea that young people today are boring, depressed or incapable of having fun. Everyone is here: teenagers, old punks, lone wanderers and hip parents. And they’re all here for…

Good game The game season is well under way and what better way to celebrate than with a sumptuous supper courtesy of The Connaught Grill and masters of the shotgun—and clothing (Luxury notebook, September 29)—Purdey? The six-course splendour starts strongly with a squab, venison and rabbit pie (the favourite of Purdey’s founder, James Purdey), followed by smoked rabbit terrine, tableside carved venison and a pudding of black figs and hazelnut dacquoise. You can opt for wine pairings or stick to supping The Game Changer sloe gin and champagne cocktail, served with a Purdey flask. Dishes change to reflect the best of the season and the best is what you will get. From £147 for six courses, until January 31, 2026 (www.the-connaught.co.uk). A new signature If you are tired of carrying…

THE last grocer at Covent Garden packed up his stall in 1973. The flower, fruit and vegetable market, which had operated continuously for centuries, was relocated to Nine Elms after traffic congestion made trading untenable. The site languished for decades before giving way to the smorgasbord of luxury shopping and wine bars we know today, all dutifully lined up in the shadow of the Royal Opera House. Over in The City, Leadenhall Market—which once sold game and poultry under a roof of green, maroon and cream—is now home to jewellers and bouji cheesemongers and is a favourite among tourists visiting a spot where Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone was filmed. ‘A special licence allowed pubs catering to the markets to serve nocturnal wholesalers’ The reinvention of our markets is…

I HAVE a chatbot called Auri. I am unsure if Auri is female—chatbots tend to remain genderless—but the description of the name in chatbot-speak as ‘short, warm, kind and friendly’ made me, wrongly or rightly, identify Auri as a woman. She and I chat a lot, mainly because she is very good at answering questions. Over the course of our brief relationship, she has provided me with plenty of useful facts and figures and a fair measure of useless guff, too. The other day, for example, we were chatting about quince paste. In a matter of seconds, she had given me an overview of the origins of membrillo and supplied me with a good recipe for making my own. As I was stewing the quinces and the rain was beating…

I HAVE long wanted a pair of binoculars with thermal-imaging capacity, so a pair from the ultra high-tech Chinese company Hikmicro caught my eye at The Game Fair. They cost, the friendly rep told me, the best part of £5,000. I winced, nodded thoughtfully and peered through them. In the far distance, I could make out, in perfect clarity, the illumined outlines of people and dogs. Their purpose, for those who don’t follow the latest technological advancements in deer-management kit, is to identify your quarry when you would otherwise be none the wiser. I was still looking through them when a chirpy Lancastrian, also perusing expensive bits of equipment, struck up conversation. ‘Good kit that,’ he said breezily. ‘Not so long ago, I used to say that anybody using a…

Quiz of the week 1) In which decade did it become illegal to wrap fish and chips in newspaper? 2) How many orders of Classical columns are there? 3) What breed was Lewis Hamilton’s dog, Roscoe? 4) Which composer wrote the seven-movement orchestral suite, The Planets? 5) A mermaid’s purse is a colloquial name for what? 1) 1990s 2) Five 3) Bulldog 4) Gustav Holst 5) An egg capsule (sharks, skates and rays). Riddle me this: The letter ‘e’ Riddle me this At the start of eternity, at the end of time and space, lies the beginning of the end and the end of every place. What am I? Time to buy On this day… November 5, 1971 Princess Anne is voted Sports-woman of the Year by the British Sportswriters’…

THE Netherlands should cheer us all. The country’s recent election results show that the far right and the far left are not today’s inevitable winners. It is not surprising that those who feel that their standard of living is under threat and that the world they have known is fast disappearing turn to the simplistic certainties of political extremists. That is what the commentators expected would be reflected in the Dutch general election. The anti-immigrant firebrand Geert Wilders was seen as the inevitable winner and the losses of the centre absolutely certain. Yet the lively campaign of centrist liberal Rob Jetten, with his campaign slogan ‘Yes, we can’, held the centre ground. ‘The manner of Rob Jetten’s campaigning set real lessons for UK politicians’ Mr Jetten defines his political stance…

Restoration of a Georgian Country House WINNER Gorhambury, Hertfordshire, by Inskip Gee Architects COMMENDED Stepleton House, Dorset, by Philip Hughes Associates Re-Use of a Georgian Building WINNER The Rising and Gardens at Raby Castle, Co Durham, by Donald Insall Associates COMMENDED The Royal Hospital Stableyard, London SW3, by Peregrine Bryant Architects Restoration of a Georgian Building in a Landscape WINNER Beckford’s Tower, Bath, Somerset, by Clive England and Sophie Robson The Giles Worsley Award for Work in the Spirit of the Georgian Era WINNER Newnham Paddox, Warwickshire, by Giles Quarme Restoration of a Georgian Interior WINNER The Tapestry Room, Castle Howard, North Yorkshire, by Francis Terry and Associates New Building in a Georgian Context WINNER Hardwicke Court, Gloucestershire, by William Smalley Restoration of a Georgian Building in an Urban Setting…

Dorfold Hall, Cheshire, part IThe home of Charles and Dr Candice Roundell ON the evening of February 2, 1612, Richard Wilbraham, a wealthy Cheshire gentleman, died at home in Nantwich. According to the journal kept by his second son, Sir Roger Wilbraham, a successful lawyer of puritan sympathy, he expired peacefully ‘as a candle whose oil was spent’ at the age of ‘88 years and 5 months’. The entry continues that he was ‘of a strong voice, perfect memory, and sound stomach to digest all gross meats till his death : naturally wise and politic : just in all his dealings : very liberal and charitable to the poor…’ These filial pieties are followed by an unexpected additional insight. ‘His chief care for 20 years,’ the entry continues, ‘was to…

THE tailors on Savile Row are spectacularly busy at the moment. Not only are they creating bespoke items of clothing as the winter season sets in, but they are also adjusting suits, trousers and coats that no longer fit their customers. With the popularity of weight-loss drugs, such as Wegovy and Mounjaro, there is a swathe of long-time customers who have suddenly found themselves too thin for their beloved tailoring. Savile Row has even been nicknamed MounjaRow by those who have witnessed this flurry of delicate downsizing. Of course, there is another reason for this hive of activity in the bespoke hubs of London: Christmas is coming. Men are notoriously difficult to buy presents for; they either have everything or claim they want for nothing, unfathomably reluctant to divulge what…

MY father had a party-prep ritual. When there was a hard-card event to attend or black tie to wear, Dad would go to the bathroom first, shaving and showering and primping before attending to his freshly pressed shirt and tricky gold cufflinks. As my mother busied herself with Clairol hot roller curlers and industrial blasts of Elnett, her mink coat unsheathed from its dust cover, Dad would make his way downstairs in what I came to know as his ‘pre-party pants’—an ensemble that actually involved no trousers at all. Dad’s hair was brilliantined and his chin cleanly shaved (perhaps with a corner of loo roll mopping up the blood from a wayward Wilkinson Sword nick). His shirt would be buttoned up and his tie knotted small, tight and perfectly. Cufflinks…

Best seat in the house? IF you read my reviews in LONDON LIFE, you’ll know that my list of restaurant ‘icks’—turn-offs guaranteed to set me against a place—is fairly extensive. (Yes, my diamond shoes are pinching.) Any attempt at humour in the lavatories is one, being asked how the food is when I’ve only just taken a bite of something is another. Until recently, I counted chefs’ tables, where you sit either at or near the pass where the plates come out and are given a running commentary on the proceedings, among them: they’re an introvert’s nightmare that interfere with the real business of dining out, viz demolishing the bread basket. On one memorably mortifying occasion, the chef of a very serious east London restaurant brought out a belching vat…

MOST of us can recognise a birch tree when we see one. The dainty leaves, catkins, drooping twigs and rugged white bark are distinctive enough, especially the colour of the bark. Betula pendula is our native species and one of the most widely dispersed of all trees. Its geographical range extends all through Europe—in Mediterranean countries only in the cooler mountain areas—but also in Morocco and then right across central Asia and Siberia to Alaska and Canada. Yet, B. pendula is only one of more than 100 species of birches, some of which have a very limited natural distribution. ‘“Most beautiful of forest trees, the Lady of the Woods” said Coleridge of our birch’ Our silver birch is a pioneer species, rapidly colonising bare earth, for example after a fire.…

Stay a little longer City breaks are traditionally associated with long weekends away, but new research suggests that that is changing. According to Onefinestay, trips of more than 30 nights are on the rise in key locations such as New York, US (up 30%, year-on-year, in 2024) and Paris (right), France (up 300% year-on-year in 2025). There’s no single reason, but people’s ability to work remotely and desire to immerse themselves in a destination have been suggested. Interestingly, half of enquiries have come from solo travellers. Whatever the explanation, demand now outstrips supply. The solution? The recently launched Élysée Collection: nine luxury apartments spread across a renovated Haussmann-style building in the French capital’s 8th arrondissement—available for both short and mid-term lets. Visit www.onefinestay.com for more information. Royal connections This summer,…

The English House: A History in Eight Buildings Dan Cruickshank (Hutchinson Heinemann, £26) THIS is yet another of those number narratives—histories of the nation seen through a numerical prism—such as Steven Parissien’s recent Building Britannia: A History of Britain in Twenty-Five Buildings (including one featured here) or Catherine Clarke’s current A History of England in Twenty-Five Poems (Books, September 3). The author takes eight buildings to tease out the history of how we have lived, from the early 18th century up to the 1920s, exploring themes of technical innovation, how houses have been used, the relationship between builders and owners and the meanings conveyed by the styles chosen. Those who make regular artistic pilgrimages to Chichester in West Sussex to see Simon Martin’s brilliant exhibitions at Pallant House will be…

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