”A butler?” Ivor Spencer raised one eyebrow a fraction and looked faintly pained, as at a question with such an obvious answer.
”Butlers have no tempers. Butlers have no nerves. Butlers have no failings. Butlers have a finesse that no one else in the world can match.
”And one other thing: A butler must be able to smile with murder in his heart!”
The heat was certainly murderous in the arid scrub and rocks on the desert eight parched miles outside Palm Springs. The thermometer was heading toward 110. But Spencer, resplendent in white tie and tails, kept his smile intact. Even in that outfit. It wouldn`t be good for his pupils to see him crack.
Honeymooners John and Jackie Chisholm had just taken the dawn hot-air balloon ride the Grand Champion Resorts here features among its attractions. And Spencer was proving to his class of would-be butlers that it actually is possible to follow the thing in a radio-equipped four-wheel-drive truck and have the table laid-solid silver and all-and waiting by the time it descended. Plus hot coffee, croissants and jam and the bubbly uncorked.
The Chisholms, from San Francisco, certainly appreciated it. It was a moment neither of them will ever forget.
”My boys have to be ready for anything,” Spencer intoned, pouring the champagne (thumb in the hollow at the base of the bottle). ”If they`re not, they may as well end up as waiters. Butlers are very special people, you understand.”
SUAVE AS JEEVES
At 57, Spencer, who runs Ivor Spencer`s School for Butlers here, is as suave and urbane as any Jeeves you`ll find anywhere. Back home in Britain he regularly rubs shoulders with royalty, the aristocracy and anybody worthy of a squib in ”Who`s Who.”
But butling-now, that`s something else. Before World War II there were 30,000 butlers in Britain; these have dwindled to no more than 70, mainly working in the royal household or in director`s dining rooms in merchant banks, plush wine houses like Moet and Chandon (whose butler is called David and works full-time in the Belgravia boardroom) and multinational companies.
The demand from the U.S. forced Spencer to found his first butler school here, headquartered at Grand Champions, where the first six graduates now serve at the $800-a-day private villas on the $120 million complex.
They`re called Graham, Jeffrey, Andrew, Leo, James and Jan (Christian names only), and general manager Neil Jacobs is delighted with them. ”We`re bringing people back to a more gracious age. Everyone`s in too much of a hurry in today`s world. And guests who come back here now ask for their butler by name when they make a reservation.”
Celebrities who have reserved their own Jeeveses include Boris Becker, Johnny Carson, Frank Sinatra, Kirk Douglas, John Forsythe (picking up a thing or two for ”Dynasty”) and John McEnroe. Butler Jeffrey Carlson, 38, once a waiter who desided to better himself, graduated from Spencer`s course and found himself attending to Becker`s every need the next day. ”A very nice gentleman,” he says. ”A most pleasant person.” Discretion is the better part.
3 WEEKS, $3,000
Spencer charges $3,000 for a three-week intensive course, and the Class of `87 began at Grand Champions in October. Successful graduates can earn up to $40,000 a year, with board and lodging free, a car thrown in and access to the master`s drinks an accepted part of the perks.
Spencer vets them all himself. ”I started the Guild of British Butlers back home, and I know what to look for,” he says. ”I turn most people down, I have to tell you, both here and in England. I like the fee (he charges a percentage of a graduate`s first year`s salary), but I`d soon lose credibility if I took on every Tom, Dick and Harry who applies. I get hundreds of applications every year.
”Now the bosses trust me. They know they`ll only get the best, and so far I haven`t had a single complaint about my boys.”
And girls. Lady butler Jan Robinette, 32, looks after guests in the Villa Capri at Grand Champions. ”People do stare at first,” she admits, trim in her dove-gray uniform and bow tie. ”But once I`ve proved I`m as good as any of the men, everyone relaxes. I guess I`m a bit of a novelty, but I don`t mind. I love the life. I was running the catering side for a big company when I heard about this school, and I applied on the spot.”
Spencer drills the ground rules rigorously into the dozen or so pupils who pass his eagle eye.
First off, his butlers have white teeth brushed up to six times a day, and are nice to have around at close quarters. ”Never eat curry, onions or garlic. Wear clean underwear, have a bath twice a day and brush your teeth regularly!”
The embryo Jeeves will learn everything from ironing his master`s morning newspaper (”No inky fingers”) and incidentally checking on how the master`s shares are doing in case he should be asked, to laying out the master`s underwear and serving morning tea. Should a guest unexpectedly be sharing the master`s bed with him when the butler enters, the code is simple: The butler simply returns with another teacup ”and absolutely refrains from comment!”
A GOLDEN RULE
Silence, it seems, is golden. ”You must never cause the faintest hint of embarrassment by showing surprise, consternation or-worst of all-disapproval. Discretion is essential. Our butler will never rush off to phone the gossip columns. Total honesty, of course. His employers will have furs, jewelry, cash, important documents lying around, and the butler will often be left alone in charge of the house.
”He is still king of his domain. We teach him how to order food and the best wine, plan menus (including the hamper for a fishing expedition), allocate guests to bedrooms and hire and fire lesser mortals like the cook, maids and valets.”
He reminds his flock: ”Remember, the people you`re working for are rich, powerful and famous. You must never upstage them, however tempting it is. If you outshine them, you`ll be out, fast!”
Says Spencer, ”If they play tennis with the boss, and get on first-name terms-that`s not our style. A good butler keeps a certain distance. Having one of our butlers is like having a Rolls-Royce. They must have a bearing. Our man will glide around on his toes at a function like a ballroom dancer, holding the tray of champagne as he would a lady`s arm.”
TEACHING MASTERS, TOO
One offshoot of Spencer`s school is a new course he is holding: for employers. It`s called ”How to Live With a Butler.”
”We take a luxury hotel suite for new employers. The master and his wife have a two-day course with the butler. We get them used to having him around and learning what to expect from him. For example, they`ll bring their nightclothes and sit in bed for their wake-up call, and we`ll show them how he will serve them early-morning tea. We act the whole thing through.
”I tell them not to snap their fingers at him like some people do in restaurants-little things like that. I hope by the end of the course that when they have guests, none of them will realize the host hasn`t had a butler for a long, long time.”
Spencer himself doesn`t drink, doesn`t smoke. At home in Dulwich in South London his wardrobe includes 40 clip-on bow ties, 40 pairs of cuff links (at $10 from Harrods), handmade shirts at $100 apiece and dress shirts from $200. ”All my butlers have one ambition: to have their own butlers! Not me. Like my wife says: `What do you want a butler for?` But I must admit I`ve thought about it, because it`s such a marvelous life.” –
