An English country girl in California: Remembering the fallen at Grace Cathedral, celebrating Houghton Hall and tackling wild boar

The poppies fell, turning and twisting, catching the light as they tumbled down from the beams high above. The sweet strains of Amazing Grace filled the cathedral, voices lifted in a song of thanks for all those who fell where the poppies now grow in Flanders Field. I had tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat, thinking of friends in the British Army and the US Marines, and all those countless millions who went before them, fighting for our freedom.

The ribbons of Graced with Light by Anne Patterson,

through which the poppies fell

This was the Royal British Legion’s 36^th Annual Service of Remembrance at Grace Cathedral on Nob Hill in the heart of San Francisco. Representatives of The Queen, uniformed veterans and members of British Commonwealth Associations joined the clergy in the procession, which entered through the splendid Doors of Paradise (replicas of those Ghilberti created for the Baptistry in Florence), and followed the Dunvegan Pipe Band up the aisle. Led by a solo piper, Honor Guards bore the Union Flag and the Stars and Stripes, together with the Wreath of the Unknown Warrior, and laid them reverently atop and before the altar. Acting Vice-Dean the Rev Canon Lesley Hay, Priya Guha, Her Majesty’s Consul-General to San Francisco, and Ewen McKechnie, vice chairman of the California branch of the Royal British Legion, welcomed the congregation, and readers included Nicholas Unkovic, president of the British American Business Council. The voice of the magnificent Alexander Memorial Aeolian-Skinner organ was augmented by the Salvation Army Band to lead Jerusalem and the National Anthems. The Navy Hymn, Eternal Father Strong to Save, was especially moving, as one of the last times I had sung it had been at my grandfather’s funeral, a great yet humble man who served with distinction in the British Admiralty. I had been concerned that I would be unable to mark Remembrance Sunday as fully as I usually do (in past years, I have attended memorable services at Hyde Park Corner and Holy Trinity Sloane Square), but I needn’t have worried. This is San Francisco, beloved of the British, and there are enough representatives of the old country here for me to feel right at home.

The noble bulk of Grace Cathedral with the Doors of Paradise

Looking down from the rafters to the altar

Links between Britain and the UK have been strengthened recently by an excellent exhibition at the Legion of Honor art gallery: ‘Houghton Hall,Portrait of an English Country House’. It opened at the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston, Texas, in June, is now in San Francisco (until January 18, 2015) and will then travel to the Frist Museum in Nashville, Tennessee (February 13 - May 20). At the Legion of Honor, the lower-ground-floor exhibition space has been transformed into Houghton Hall in miniature, with certain rooms of the Norfolk house evoked by backdrops replicating actual walls and a superb collection of artworks, silver, dress robes and furniture. It is an extraordinary and admirable collaboration between a great country house and the American art world. Built by James Gibbs and Colen Campbell for Sir Robert Walpole in the early 18th century, Houghton Hall has superb interiors by the sometimes undersung architect and designer William Kent, who considered every detail, from wall sconces to gilded armchairs, and whose clearly drawn plans are also on display. The rooms are set off by notable paintings, including works by Gainsborough and Velazquez, plus John Singer Sargent’s gorgeous portrait of Sybil Sassoon. Sybil, Marchioness of Cholmondeley, was the wife of Lord Rocksavage, 5th Marquess. The 4th Marquess had let Houghton out to paying tenants, taking advantage of the new-found fashion for Norfolk in the wake of the royal presence at Sandringham, and it was Sybil and 'Rock' who took back the Hall at the end of the First World War and set about making it ‘a divine place’. Their passion, together with Sassoon money, saw Houghton Hall transformed from a neglected house into an idyllic country home, full of beautiful things and alive with people, both the Cholmondeley’s growing family and endless guests. As early as 1921, Country Life published a series of four articles by venerable architectural editor H. Avray Tipping that show a house already restored to Rock’s vision of ‘comfort with style and elegance’. Today, Houghton Hall is home to David, the 7th Marquess, his wife Rose and their children, and their continuing custodianship ensures that this perfect Palladian house is both preserved and brimming with life. A magnificent and pleasingly readable book by Lord Cholmondeley and Andrew Moore accompanies the exhibition, the perfect accompaniment for a long winter evening by the fire.

The superb book telling the story of Houghton Hall.

Calling it a 'catalogue' doesn't do it justice

I must confess to having one quibble: on the gallery website, a special ‘English tea service’ is listed as an addition to the (excellent) café’s usual menu, ‘complete with mini scones with marmalade and clotted cream’. Marmalade?! At teatime? Please no, strawberry jam only! Fyi, Americans, marmalade should only be consumed at breakfast. Thou shalt not mess with afternoon tea.

The entrance court of the Legion of Honor

I have heard people sneer about the new tradition of theatre being shown as a live broadcast, but, watching a National Theatre Live Encore showing of Frankenstein with Benedict Cumberbatch and Jonny Lee Miller in the heart of San Francisco, I could only be thankful for whoever had the idea in the first place. Anything with Mr Cumberbatch is sold out instantly these days and not everyone can get to London in any case, so for those unlucky souls in the wilderness, these screenings are a godsend. Danny Boyle’s 2011 production was a triumph, the actors superb and the audience in tears, so to have it recorded for posterity is a joy. Nothing can compare with actually being there, with all the visceral emotion and atmosphere of live theatre, and a standing ovation feels odd if the actors can’t see you, but when you’re 5,000 miles from the stage, it’s a joy just to be able to see such a high-quality production. This may be California, but there many corners of this foreign field where England thrives.

A corner of England: Bath on a September afternoon

As I might have mentioned before, hunting is my preferred way to spend a winter’s day in the English countryside. I have been having serious pangs every time I glance at Facebook recently, as seemingly everyone I know has been attending opening meets and posting evocative photographs, so booking a day with the Santa Ynez Valley Hounds was imperative. Accordingly, I arranged the hire of a brave little black quarter horse called Tuff and set off behind huntsman Claire Buchy-Anderson and her pack of French blanc-et-noir, English and American hounds for some fantastic sport. Steep hills, thick sage brush, inviting coops (jumps) and wild boar rampaging in all directions made for a thrilling couple of days, with hounds giving tremendous voice and a soft drizzle obligingly improving the scent. There’s nothing like the feeling of a good horse under you when you’re crossing challenging country and there really is no better way to spend a day than in the saddle. You can take an English country girl out of the English countryside, but she’ll always find a way to get back there, even in California!