Great halls, last balls

Contrary to popular myth, the exuberant flame of life in the English country house was not extinguished by tears at the end of the Great War. And in his deliciously jaunty and wonderfully knowledgeable book, Adrian Tinniswood, social historian and country house authority, also upturns the story that huge numbers of Britain’s loveliest houses disappeared in the 1920s and 1930s, either through lack of heirs, despair, neglect or the stranglehold of taxation. He describes how instead, with ‘new aesthetics and new social structures’, the clubby, elitist, joyful prewar way of life adapted and became even more vibrant after the Armistice.

In part, the yearning for a sense of rootedness had become more urgent than ever. ‘The country house was a home, and more — something woven into the fabric of society,’ Tinniswood explains. When flesh and blood had proved so fragile, bricks, mortar and heraldic cornices offered ‘a symbol of continuity which held out the hope of a return to normality after the slaughter’.