Howard’s end

After 16 years, Philip Howard’s children can breathe a sigh of relief. No more will their exploits appear in these pages. Though we might wish it otherwise…

EVERYTHING comes to an end, and I have decided to make this my final article. For many, this will be a considerable relief – especially my two long-suffering children, William and Alexandra, whose adventures and misdemeanors have long provided me with a plentiful supply of column inches.

Indeed, my son recently celebrated his 26th birthday at Naworth. He managed to assemble a cast of thousands that outrivalled Bournemouth beach on a hot day. The celebrations lasted for three days and three nights and three mornings. The music was horrendous. Occasionally, I would explode with rage and then they would send around one – or, in the case of a nuclear detonation, two – incredibly pretty girl. They were briefed to express deep and sincere interest in both the refurbishment of the castle and my taxidermy collection. Then they would get Covidy close in the hope of accelerating the succession and after a couple of hours of chat my equilibrium would be rebalanced.

Or they would send Teddy. Teddy is a prince amongst men. Clever, good looking, hardworking, this former tabloid journalist was a communications officer with The Royal Marines, destined for the very top. So military history, political chat and hot gossip were all on the agenda.

All went well until I despatched Teddy into the garden to forage for some vegetables. I have to say that I expected more than a cabbage and an onion from an Acting Major of Marines. “Where are the potatoes?” I enquired.

“Alas, I was unable to locate the potato bush,” was the response.

It confirmed my view that our next armed conflict will be short, but I am convinced Teddy will negotiate a delightful surrender. So, William and Alexandra you can sleep soundly knowing that your tattoos will never again be revealed. And thank you for your patience, stoicism, inspiration and most of all love.

But I digress. There are lots of reasons for making changes and moving on. My Editor, Jonathan Young, asked me to become Back Page in 2004. My only brief was “Be frothy.” I have tried. He also asked me to avoid politics where possible. Sorry Editor, I failed. When Jonathan told me this was going to be his final edition and he was off to discover new Elysian Fields, I thought I would like to follow him. It has been a privilege to write for someone who has been such a passionate and successful advocate for the countryside. He is a man with deep core beliefs, honesty, integrity and a wondrously wicked sense of humour that enhances life. Thank you, Editor, for your trust and friendship and giving me such an opportunity. And thank you team, especially Ali and Di, my subby, who has somehow created silk purses from my dyslexic offerings.

I think 2020 has seared itself upon all of us. The world has been placed in one gigantic tumble dryer. God knows where we will all land when it is finally switched off. It has discombobulated all of us. It has made us take stock and reassess how we live our lives – and with whom. Whether that is a good thing or bad, only time will tell, but it has certainly been cathartic.

I hope, ultimately, it will be positive as

I think many of us have become complacent. We have damaged each other with our increasingly selfish and grotesquely indulgent lifestyles. We are wilfully destroying our planet and many of its species. Famine stalks Africa, yet the west wobbles with obesity. We badly need the reset that will be the consequence of coronavirus.

I am excited about what the future offers for both agriculture and the environment. I did not vote for Brexit but I am so happy to see the end of the Common Agricultural Policy and the perverse and detrimental effect it has had on farming and the natural world.

I do worry about the future of shooting. We have not done ourselves any favours turning parts of our countryside into corporate killing fields. It is indefensible for people to continue to kill birds of prey or relying on exterminating predator species in order to maintain a balance in our sporting world. We need to adapt a much more holistic, rounded and long-term approach. There is such a huge disconnect between our rural and urban worlds. I would like to call myself a countryman. At 57, I know that my generation, in the main, knows considerably less about food production, flora and fauna than my father’s generation. Too many of my children’s generation know virtually nothing, reference Teddy and the potato bush. For shooting and fieldsports to thrive or even survive, we must change that. It is so important that we educate our young countrymen to love and look after our countryside and even re-educate ourselves. Then the future will be different but the future will be bright.

Howard’s final End allows me to cite one of my favourite quotes – that of Lampedusa watching the decline of the old, tired aristocratic order of Sicily. “In order for things to stay the same, everything must change.” Even in The Field. Especially in The Field.

Last of all, I would like to thank you for having me as Back Page for 16 years. It has been such fun. To you all – lots of luck and love for the future. Philip

I do worry about the future of shooting. We have not done ourselves any favours