The Butler and the Front of House
The butler is the household's first impression and its last. We examine the quiet authority that distinguishes a serious front of house from a merely competent one.
There is a moment, on the threshold of a serious house, when its standards are made clear. The door is opened without delay and without haste. The visitor is greeted by name or, if not yet known, by a correct but not effusive form of address. The coat is taken, the umbrella is set down, and the visitor is conducted to the room where they are expected. None of this is improvised. It is the work of a particular member of staff whose office, in the thoughtful house, is older than most of the rooms it serves.
The butler, properly understood, is not a footman with a senior title. The butler is the head of the front of house: the senior figure to whom the receiving rooms, the dining room, the cellar in many establishments, and the conduct of formal hospitality all answer. A principal who appoints a butler of the right standing acquires, in a single stroke, the discipline by which many smaller matters are kept in order.
The work of the butler is, in any house of seriousness, broader than the casual visitor would suppose. The receiving of guests is the visible part. Behind it sits the silver, the glass, the table linen, and the standing arrangements with the wine merchant and the florist. The role also includes the daily preparation of the rooms before the family comes downstairs and the briefing of junior staff on the day's expected callers. A butler of long experience holds all of this in mind without apparent effort. The household which has such a person at the head of its front of house is one in which small failures of preparation are very rarely seen.
The front of house is a stage on which nothing should ever appear to be performed.
In many establishments, the butler is the staff member who knows most about the principal's day: who is calling, who is not to be admitted, which letter has arrived, and where it has been placed. The discipline of the office is to hold this knowledge with absolute discretion, sharing only what the principal has authorised and forgetting, in any practical sense, the rest. We counsel principals to give this discretion the recognition it deserves: long tenure, fair remuneration, and trust. A butler of the right calibre repays this trust many times over.
We close with a point about manner. The butler whose presence is felt by guests as a personality in the room has, in our view, mistaken the office. The butler who is felt only as a quality of the room, as a sense that nothing is amiss and nothing has been forgotten, has understood the work in its proper sense.
Founder's NoteA Life in Private Service: A Personal Introduction
A personal note from our Founder and CEO, Robert Wennekes, on more than forty-five years in private service and the pleasure of writing these monthly essays.
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