Tuesday 31 July 2018

His Lordship's Spit, Mick Jagger's Underpants, etc.

Yesterday to Knebworth House, where I noticed that the guides seemed to be looking at me with more than usual interest. It transpired that I am the spit and image of David Lytton Cobbold, the 2nd Lord Cobbold, who ran the show until handing over to his son Henry. Or rather the spit and image of His Lordship as he was a few years back (he's 80-odd now). This was quite pleasing. We are, as far as I know, entirely unrelated.
  In the course of the guided tour of this masterpiece of High Victorian Gothic, I also leaned that Mick Jagger, after one of the Stones' epic performances at Knebworth, slept in the best bed, in which he left behind a pair of his minuscule red underpants. These are now in the Knebworth archives. Noel Gallagher didn't sleep in the house, but took a long bath in the best bathroom, where he recalled being served a bottle of champagne by the butler. That was no butler – it was the 2nd Lord Cobbold, my ermined doppelganger.

(I write as one who was recently mistaken for Jacob Rees Mogg by the proprietor of a Turkish restaurant. My proudest moment.)


  1. You used to be Peter Cook to my Dudley Moore and Terry to my Bob. Soon we'll be Statler and Waldorf.

  2. Did you take a bet that you couldn't get the phrase "ermined doppelganger" into a blog post?

  3. Yep Statler and Waldorf – it won't be long...
    A phrase out of the blue, Guy – unlikely ever to be used again (a hapax legomenon?)

  4. It's easy for you to say that.....