Chilham Castle is on the market following the death of its owner since 2002, Stuart Wheeler, last year.
I went some forty years ago when it was owned by Lord Massereene, under the auspices of The Irish Peers’ Association. A memorable day that included Blind Man’s Bluff, falconry, a medieval banquet and a jazz concert. We went on a coach from Sloane Square and I was persuaded to search it in case an IRA bomb had been planted. But I digress.
I bought Stuart Wheeler’s autobiography because I read that he met PG Wodehouse. Annoyingly the book has no index, although it is replete with tips on winning at Blackjack and other games of chance. Stuart was unusual – a gambler who made money. However, he made much more money, nigh on £100 million when that was big potatoes, founding IG Index and invented spread betting.
I didn’t want to read the book but I wanted to know how he met Plum. To my surprise and pleasure it is a page-turner: adopted, insecure, Eton, Welsh Guards, Oxford, the Bar, the City and politics. I wish I had known that when I had supper with him and his wife in a small flat in the badlands between Shepherds’ Bush and Acton. Our hostess struck up a friendship with them on holiday in Egypt and they gallantly accepted her invitation. I made up the fourth because I had a job in the City.
So how did he meet Plum? Stuart had many friends including Edward Cazalet. They went to America together for a working holiday one summer when at Oxford, towards the end of which Edward took him to Long Island to stay with Plum and Ethel.
“PG Wodehouse was one of those men who are extremely funny in writing, but do not purport to be a great wit in person. He was just a very nice man in his early seventies, who would have breakfast, do his exercises and write for three hours before lunch. His conversation gave no indication at all that he was the creator of Jeeves and Wooster, or the author of three simultaneous absolutely top hits on Broadway.”
I don’t think Stuart Wheeler really liked talking about himself either – two birds of a feather: hard workers, successful, modest and slightly shy.
You have a lovely turn of phrase “hard workers, successful, modest and slightly shy “ not a bad way for a man to be remembered … keep em coming P
Alan Tinsley once told me about the late Sir Iain Moncreiffe of that Ilk, the noted eccentric and genealogist, on that trip to Chilham. As the coach travelled down the M2 Sir Iain ordered the driver to stop so he could get out and relieve himself, only for the driver to politely explain that stopping on motorways was not permitted. Ten miles on he could contain himself no longer and addressed the driver: “You have a choice: either you stop immediately or I p__s all over your coach”. The driver stopped. Sir Iain walked deliberately to the side of the motorway, then turned and relieved himself in full view of the coach occupants. Asked why, on return to the coach, he explained “The wind, it was the wind”.
Maybe Alan, who told a good story, got that one from you. Can you, as they say, confirm or deny?
It sounds probable although I cannot remember.
Alan confirms this (he was there), and is surprised that Christopher who was also there doesn’t remember!
I do member one of Sir Ian’s eccentricities; he called his sons after birds of prey: Merlin and Peregrine.
Perhaps the reason why Sir Ian needed to relieve himself may have come from the same bottle that has caused the Blogger’s lapse of memory.
My wife sat next to Sir Ian on the return journey and was greatly entertained without interruption so the discharge must have been on the outward leg. She also has no recollection of the stoppage but concedes that it was both a very long day and it was an Irish Peers outing so anything could have happened.
I have not forgotten the excellent luncheon provided by your wife before we set off. I also remember that one member of our party was inadvertently left behind at Chilham.