SEE ALSO: https://tweedlandthegentlemansclub.blogspot.com/2012/12/debretts-guide-for-modern-gentleman.html
Douglas
Chalmers Hutchinson Sutherland MC (18 November 1919 – 28 August 1995) was a
British author and journalist, who was born at Bongate Hall,
Appleby-in-Westmorland, in 1919. He always joked that the error of judgement in
his not being born in Scotland was compensated for a year later by his family's
moving to live in the remote island of Stronsay in Orkney.
The family
later moved to Aberdeenshire, and Sutherland followed his elder brother to
Trinity College, Glenalmond. He joined the army in 1938 as a Private with the
King's Own Scottish Borderers, though Sutherland was later commissioned into
the King's (Liverpool) Regiment, and saw active service during the Second World
War, for which he was awarded the Military Cross, twice being mentioned in
Despatches. In 1945, he was posted to Field Marshal Sir Bernard Montgomery's
21st Army Group Headquarters at Bad Oeynhausen, where he joined the Allied
Liaison Branch, and was an observer at the Nuremberg Trials.
Career
Returning
to London at the age of 26, Sutherland would observe that his first challenge
as a civilian was sartorial.[citation needed] To this end, he was helped by
Oscar Hammerstein, the American lyricist, who was a friend of his first wife
Moyra Fraser, then a ballet dancer. Hammerstein presented him with his cast-off
suits,[citation needed] and thus attired, he began working as a journalist for
the Evening Standard, and later, the Daily Express.
Sutherland's
life during this period is affectionately depicted in Portrait of a Decade,
where he recalls many of the colourful characters of 1950s London, centred on
Muriel Belcher's famous Colony Room in Dean Street, Soho. However, he is best
remembered for his best-selling humour series which began with The English
Gentleman, and was followed by The English Gentleman's Wife/Child/Mistress, and
The English Gentleman Abroad.
A more
serious side to his writing included biographies, including those of the
sporting Earl of Lonsdale (The Yellow Earl), and Fraud with Jon Connell,
founder of The Week magazine, the life of the international fraudster Emil
Savundra, which won the Crime Writer's Silver Dagger Award for the best
non-fiction crime book of the year.
In 1963,
with Anthony Purdy, he published a book on the notorious spy ring of the 1950s,
Burgess and Maclean.Prior to its publication it was rumoured that pressure to
withdraw some of the book's most controversial content was placed on the
authors from the British establishment, and that Sutherland and Purdy were
obliged to suppress their information for reasons of national
security.[citation needed] After Blunt's exposure some twenty years later,
Sutherland immediately released The Fourth Man, the first full uncensored
account of the intrigue.
Having
married three times, Sutherland settled in Scotland with his third wife Diana.
His latter years were marred by ill health and a dispute over the publishing
royalties of the English Gentleman series, and he died at South Queensferry on
28 August 1995. His children include Carol Thomas, architect Charlie
Sutherland, choreographer James Sutherland, comedy performer Jojo Sutherland and
curator Adam Sutherland, director of Grizedale Arts.
Obituary: Douglas Sutherland
Leo Cooper
Sunday 10
September 1995 23:02
https://www.independent.co.uk/news/people/obituary-douglas-sutherland-1600567.html
Douglas
Sutherland was perhaps best known for his English Gentleman series of books,
starting in 1978. The avalanche of witty trivia, in this and its four
succeeding volumes, tended to obscure his other, more substantial,
contributions to the literary and social scene: an excellent biography of Lord
Lonsdale, The Yellow Earl (1965); The Landowners (1968); The Fourth Man (1965),
an early and accurate account of the treachery of Burgess, Maclean and Blunt;
two regimental histories (the Argylls and the Border Regiment) and a number of
other books on fishing, wildlife and two volumes of autobiography.
Wherever he
lived there was never any likelihood of his neighbours' being unaware of his
presence. He lived life to the full. He had a distinguished war record, winning
the Military Cross (and some say a Bar). He wrote one very funny book about his
military experience, called Sutherland's War (1984), in which he claimed to
have captured a tank driven by his former German tutor.
He was a
clever journalist, a bon viveur, an habitue of pubs and clubs, not least the
Colony Room, in Soho. He was a frequent visitor to El Vino's, he worked for the
London Evening Standard and contributed to many magazines and newspapers on a
freelance basis. He was generous, more often than not short of cash; and
sometimes bloody-minded, not least to his wives. But he was a king of laughter,
a wonderful gossip and a man of so many parts that he was difficult to pin down
(and sometimes to reassemble).
Although,
wrongly I think, best known for the English Gentleman series, which certainly
earned him (and its publishers, Debretts) a lot of money, he should not be
judged by such waffle. He was far better than that. He spent money like water
and drank whisky as if it were; he was always the first man to put his hand in
his pocket and the last man out of the pub. He was a great embroiderer of
episodes in his career. He enjoyed the comforts of life without ever being able
to afford them, and he was kind, talented and, when he was able to be, and
indeed when he was not so able, generous.
Two stories
remain in the mind. He wrote a history of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders
for me, published in 1969. During the course of his research he was unwittingly
locked into Stirling Castle after everyone had gone home. Climbing over the
walls, no singular feat, he managed to reach his car only to be apprehended by
the local copper. Having passed the breath test, he was allowed back into the
car and, driving off, put the car into reverse and rammed the police car. A
second test was called for, with the inevitable result.
I once saw
him give a speech to the assorted might of the Argylls, standing up in front of
us all with his fly-zipper undone. No one seemed to mind. On another occasion,
he rang my office at about 8.30am to ask, "Can you lend me a pair of
socks?" While he was sleeping rough under the arches at Charing Cross
after a row with his wife Diana, someone had relieved him of his socks - but
not his shoes. I was able to obligeand sent a chit to the Royalty Department
asking them to debit his royalty account. Needless to say, they failed to see
the joke.
Douglas
Sutherland lived a rumbustious and varied life. He was a very funny man and a
very brave man. Having learnt recently that he had incurable cancer he refused
all treatment. When offered the opportunity of going home to live out his final
days he had to admit that there was no longer anyone left to look after him,
Diana, his third wife, having died four years ago.
Sutherland
once rented a house near Malton, in Yorkshire. It was called Pasture House. He
always said he was attracted to the name, so people could say "I walked
past your house this morning." I bitterly regret his passing.
Leo Cooper
Douglas
Chalmers Hutchinson Sutherland, writer, journalist: born Appleby, Westmorland
18 November 1919; married 1944 Moyra Fraser (one daughter; marriage dissolved
1954), 1954 Susan Justice (two sons; marriage dissolved 1960), 1991 Diana
Fendall (died 1991); died 28 August 1995.
Originally
written for Debrett's Peerage and now something of a classic, Douglas
Sutherland's guide to that endangered species, the English Gentleman, was
originally written as an antidote to all the endless, dull little books on
manners and etiquette: the kind read by those who long to be recognised as part
of the real gentry by the way they use their finger-bowl or address an
Archbishop. Both genuinely informative and yet very funny in its
self-deprecating tone, The English Gentleman offers a window to the parvenu on
the rather perverse world of the genuine article. It describes his habits:
where he might live, what he might wear, his school, his clubs, his hobbies and
sports, his family and relationships, his behaviour when abroad, his mode of
speech and the acceptable way to behave in almost any given situation (invariably
the very opposite of what the outsider might think). Not to mention advice on
the correct attitude to have toward money (it is vulgar), sex (it is vulgar)
and business (it is vulgar unless, of course, it is run at a heavy loss). It
all adds up to an unmissable initiation into the eccentric social history of
the stiff upper lip. A hilarious and insightful look at the real life
counterparts to the sort of squires found in the fiction of Nancy Mitford, PG
Wodehouse and Compton Mackenzie. Proving that truth is often stranger than
fiction.
Dressing
The Part
From “The English Gentleman Is Dead: Long Live
The English Gentleman!”
By Douglas
Sutherland, 1992
In the
second half of the 20th century it is true that the English Gentleman has had
to shed something of his country image and assume the trappings of an urban
life. This does not, however, mean that the way he dresses has become any less
distinctive than it has always been; a style which is envied and imitated
throughout the world.
Certainly a
gentleman would never dress for effect but this does not mean that it is not
something which he feels to be beneath his notice to devote any thought. He
would no more think of disregarding the advice of his tailor when having a suit
made (“built” is the correct expression) than he would instruct his surgeon on
how to remove his right leg should such an operation become necessary. He is essentially
a conventionalist.
What
gentlemen seek to avoid at all costs in their dress is any suggestion of the
sort of flamboyance which might be calculated to frighten the horses. In short,
gentlemen in their appearance never seek to glitter. Such wardrobe items as
designer shirts and underwear or other ostentations adornments have no place in
his life.
It might be
helpful to observe that the way a gentleman dresses has nothing to do with his financial
circumstances. The tweed jacket with leather patches on the elbows, which is so
often thought of as his hallmark, is not an affectation. It is usually simply a
case of his not being able to afford a new one. To have leather patches sewn on
or cuffs relined without there being any necessity is one of the worst forms of
affectation.
By the same
token it is unlikely that he would have in his wardrobe anything which he would
call a sports jacket. This is simply an in-built mental attitude more than
anything else. A gentleman will often have a great number of jackets but each
will have a specific purpose. Thus he will have a jacket in which he goes
shooting which is called a shooting jacket and when this becomes too old and
disreputable looking, it will be demoted to the role of a gardening jacket. He
will probably have a blazer or two inherited from his cricketing or rowing days
or simply to lounge around in when he is not required to wear a suit, just as
he will have a hunting jacket to go hunting in or a dinner jacket for when he
goes out to dinner.
… It is
also advisable when hiring morning clothes not to rely on the inevitable
“morning” tie the dress hire firm will thrust upon you. It is becoming more and
more the practice to wear an old school tie with these clothes. In fact, to
wear an old school tie on other than formal occasions is increasingly
considered to be bad taste. This is something I shall refer to again when it
comes to looking at the whole public school business.
This
attention to detail is also reflected in the number of cuff buttons on a
gentleman’s suit It is the sort of triviality on which it is wise to be
careful. Traditionally only bespoke suits sport four buttons on each cuff. The
others have only three. As part of the very high cost of a handmade suit, a
customer can expect that all the button holes are handsewn and all the buttons
sewn on to last a lifetime. A button which comes off in the first ten years of
a suit’s life would, in the view of the more old-fashioned customer, justify
its being sent back for free servicing. Most important is that cuff buttons
should unbutton so that, among other things, a gentleman can turn them back when
he is going through the ceremonial washing of hands. For cuff buttons to be
sewn on to a suit purely for show is regarded by many to be as bad as the
wearing of a made-up bow tie or keeping their trousers up with a belt instead
of braces.
Of all the
details which go to make up the way a gentleman dresses, perhaps the most
important of all concerns the head and the feet. Generally speaking, a
gentleman always wears well polishes leather shoes. The traditional high polish
of a gentleman’s footwear derives from the days when every gentleman had his
own personal servant either as a batman when in the army or a valet in his
private life and for whom the most exacting chore was the task of keeping his
master’s riding boots and other footwear up to snuff. In these servantless days
it is still considered to be rather infra dig for a chap to be seen to be
cleaning his own shoes. However, in households where chivalry has not yet died,
there are quite a few gentlemen who draw the line at deputing the task to their
wives and anyway it is something that many wives are not awfully good at. This
is an example of one area in this modern world where some gentlemen are having
to bite the bullet for the sake of keeping up appearances and do the job for
themselves.
What a
gentleman wear on his head is another matter for debate in a world where
everything is changing. It is basically true that , eve since the wearing of
morning clothes with the then obligatory top hat whenever he came up to London
went out of fashion, the gentleman has dispensed with a town hat. There was a
brief period when gentlemen coming up to London to see their men of business
like lawyers or bankers favored the bowler or, as it is more correctly
described, the Coke (pronounced Cook) hat as a compromise the with more formal
topper. The Coke hat had originally been designed as a hard hat which could be
worn when out hunting on less formal days. When it became adopted by
businessmen for City wear, however, it dropped out of fashion with their
country cousins. in these days when so many gentlemen have become urbanized
most of them now go bareheaded about their daily business. By contrast, to wear
a hat for any openair activity in the country is almost universal. However,
whatever the occasion, it is not the hat the gentleman chooses to wear but the
way that he wears it that makes him distinctive.
Perhaps
there is no hat in the whole repertoire which demonstrates this better than the
common or garden flat at which the late Norman Wisdom made so much the hallmark
of the working man. Where the pigeon fancier from Birmingham and all points
north wears his cloth cap with the brim pointing defiantly outwards and
upwards, the gent somehow manages to wear it tipped down over his forehead so
that the brim runs more or less parallel with his nose. This in turn means that
if the wearer is to see where he is going he has to tilt his head back and gaze
on his fellow men with a look of disdain akin to a guardsman on parade. It is
something which takes quite a lot of practice. I believe this is the origin of
the expression “to look down your nose” at people. The gentleman does not
really mean it. It is just one of this many curiosities.
The overall
look common to all gentlemen, which has its origins in his nursery days, is of
being well brushed and well scrubbed. the only difference in his more mature
years is that, as the day goes on, he stays that way longer.
Fashions
change in these matters but, in the present day, most gentlemen are clean
shaven. In fact beards, apart from a few naval officers and arctic explorers,
have been out since the days of Edward VII The day of the well clipped mustache
in the military style once so much the fashion is also now very much out since
its universal adoption by the more rampant homosexuals. Only in the way the
hair is cut is there now a certain amount of lassitude. Where the
short-back-and-sides-llook was once more
or less de riguere, many gentlemen now wear their hair much longer, even to the
extent of the pony-tail look not always being confined to young gentlemen’s
sisters. The more conventional, however, are usually content to display their
individuality by allowing the hair of a certain amount of length at the sides
and brushed up into the sort of quiffs which used to be known as “bugger’s
grips.” The origin of this expression is now lost in antiquity which is perhaps
just as well.
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