Endangered Tories lead the Summer List

We know, there can be nothing more

poignant than an English aristocrat

in his balancing act to sustain in-

calculable luxury through the quick

turnover of tourists at his estates. 

This Summer, Heywood Hill's List

presents the usual number of such

specimens, and two have landed here

with surprisingly redeeming charm

in self-revelation, intoning the

same theme of countryside husband-

ry. Hugh, Lord Cavendish of Furness

has presented a gorgeous tour of 

his famous gardens at Holker, in 

Cumbria, and the Duchess of Rutland

offers a spirited chronicle of the

shooting seasons at Belvoir Castle,

replete with heaps of avian carcasses.

What is interesting, staggeringly sumptuous scenery aside, is how aggressively political these titles are, in demanding sympathy for the right to lock up the place at any moment, and be alone in one's hereditary horizon. Infantility, oddly, is the leading argument: a childhood adoration of an Algerian oak is enough to warrant title to it in perpetuity. But should this fail, there is the custodial qualification, of watering the place for others to pay to see it in bloom. The daunting load of work involved in profiteering from this stewardship - never envisioned, until the 20th Century - is never far from recital.

From, however, that little bit of strain that binds us all, in the great human story of comforting the impregnable, it is only fair to take delight in the daunting glory of the other 23 hours of their day. In Lord Cavendish's 17 thousand arcadian acres, really no more than 25 represent a compelling recurring demand upon his curiosity, not counting the house, of course. At the rate at which Rutlands find themselves breeding grouse, the appalling density of their downpour cannot truly be said to represent a threatening depletion. And when it comes to that, the Duke of Buccleuch is not far to visit. These are not barren pantries. 

I very much enjoyed these two volumes, for to their credit there is no skimping in presenting the refinement of the world they document. That there is a market to support such glimpses of the exquisite, I should not have doubted (if I ever did), given the new candour of selfishness we observe in our long recession's penalties for expensive tastes. And nothing is more refreshing to an American, steeped in our plutocracy's drumbeat gospel that its tax immunities are "deficit neutral," to hear a Tory candidly exult in selling sleep-overs to expense accounts.

Hugh Cavendish

A Time to Plant

  Life and Gardening at Holker

Frances Lincoln, Ltd., 2012©

Emma, Duchess of Rutland

Shooting

  A Season of Discovery

Quiller, 2012©