Arabella Illingworth reflects on the latest Spetchley Park sale.
There is always something rather sad about the dispersal of the contents of a family home. High or low, rich or poor, the stories that attach themselves to hovel and homestead alike have one shared narrative: continuity and rupture. For most of us the process is painful but relatively simple: the setting aside of a few treasured heirlooms; the gathering up of photograph albums; the collecting of simple and even silly souvenirs that speak to us and us alone of what has been and is no longer. The rest is a day’s work for the firms that specialise in house clearances, or a profitable morning for a man with a van from a local charity shop.
