The master-servant literature produced by P.G. Wodehouse placed him in the front rank of twentieth century English humorists. Those of you who are familiar with Jeeves, the butler, and have been fortunate enough to have seen Stephen Fry immortalise the character in the television series Jeeves and Wooster, would agree with me that the English butler is a species unto himself.

Jeeves wears understatements as a protective armour, and speaks in a language which, in tone and texture, is far superior to that of his master’s. His feathers remain unruffled in the most adverse and disastrous circumstances. A butler prefers to call himself a gentleman’s gentleman; Jeeves refers to himself as a "gentleman’s personal gentleman," implying that he serves a man and not a household.

With apologies to Wodehouse, here is an imaginary conversation between Jeeves and Lord Rowcester, one fine morning:

"I say Jeeves," cried Lord Rowcester, his monocle dropping with a plop into a cup of Darjeeling. "Have you read the papers?"

Jeeves stood erect. Only the minutest observer could have sensed the ramrod of his back dispatching a quiver through his lower jowl region. "I have ironed the papers, my lord, but I have not yet availed myself of the opportunity to peruse them"

"It’s butlers, Jeeves, English butlers, in America. One of ‘em has made off with his boss’s Bentley and -- bless my soul --  another’s threatened to flush his employer’s ashes down the lavatory."

"These are confusing time, my Lord," sighed Jeeves, retrieving the lens and wiping it gently on a linen napkin," even in the world of gentleman’s gentleman."

Reading Wodehouse and the ingenious methods Jeeves adopts to save his master, Bertie Wooster, (whose nincompoopery knows no bounds) from dire embarrassment again and again, you get the impression that most aristocratic employers would be in awe of their butlers, but that is not the case. At Blenheim Palace, a former Duke of Marborough would ring for his butler to change the television channel even though the servant’s quarters were a quarter of a mile’s walk from his own.

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Jeeves who represents the ideal image of a gentleman’s manservant dresses impeccably, doesn’t walk but glides silently in and out of rooms, supplements his brain power -- his mental prowess is attributed to eating fish -- by relaxing with "improving books" such as the complete works of Spinoza. He frequently quotes from Shakespeare, and in addition to his encyclopaedic knowledge of literature, is a "bit of a whizz" in all matters pertaining to horse-racing, etiquette, hangover remedies, car maintenance and the ways of women. He is the ultimate problem solver.

Reading Wodehouse, the wealthy Americans naturally felt that it would be a matter of prestige to have a butler around the house. In the era between the two world wars the demand for English butlers grew in America as indeed the schools that sprang up in England to tutor butlers for the American market.

During the last summer in England, I came across a booklet which gives a fascinating account of butlers especially those who found employment in America. The nouveau riche in the States found it difficult to strike the balance between formality and intimacy that characterised the Jeeves-Wooster relationship. First name terms were plainly not on, but Americans found it difficult to handle. One British butler to a famous American singer quit through boredom because the health-conscious musical star was on a diet of carrots.

There are some harrowing accounts of butlers in England who went berserk in exacting revenge upon their employers. Two spinsters who lived in Gloucestershire -- now the home of Prince and Princess Michael of Kent -- told their butler who had served them for forty years, that his services were no longer required. He served them coffee as usual, selected a 12 bore gun from the gunroom and shot them both.

British butlers being trained for the American market were instructed in how to deflect passes from their employers’ wives. The approved response was: "Madam because I am trusted by your husband I would not defile anything that is so seared to him" or "Madam, because I am trusted by your husband I would not defile anything that is so sacred to him," or "Madam, because I am trusted by you, what has just occurred will be for ever locked in my memory."

The rule in the servant-master literature is that eccentricity is almost invariably the preserve of the aristocrats. Michael Harden (who wore a sarong) must be an exception. Harden had a degree in mathematics from Bristol University. He flirted with the Hare Krishna sect which threw him out of one commune after he demanded newspapers in the temple. Harden was an unlikely candidate for a butler (he had no family background in domestic service) but was offered a job by a wealthy American woman as her help. After that he turned freelance and served most members of the royal family.

A butler by the name of John Percivale pretending to be a millionaire while robbing his employer blind, eventually absconded with his master’s Bentley Turbo worth sixty thousand pounds. It was discovered that he was, by profession, a con man who had been cashiered from the Army Catering corp. He wormed his way into a Belgravia house from which the owners were frequently absent.

Percivale began to pay for his round of drinks with fifty pound notes. His pub mates were delighted to be invited regularly to dinners in the Belgravia house and be fed with the most expensive viands, washed down with Chateau Petrus (£1500 a bottle). He travelled to Europe blowing his ill-gotten gains on sex and drugs. The British police eventually caught up with him and he surrendered meekly, saying "OK I’ ll come with you but let me finish this drink first."

While it is difficult to suppress a chortle at such greed and cheek, there are some sordid aspects of the butlerian saga as well. A few decades ago a butler by the name of Denis Tyler sat in the dock in his pinstripe suit as a jury heard allegations that he had reduced his elderly spinster employer to a life of misery. As she grew old and infirm he kept telling her he would scatter half her ashes on a rhubarb patch and flush the rest down the lavatory. It was also alleged that he fondled her breasts to humiliate her saying, "These milk bottles, madam, used to be full. Now they are empty." Tyler denied the charges and claimed that his employer was a cruel lady who had once forced an abortion on his wife because she refused to have children around the house.

I still maintain that Jeeves continues to remain the greatest butler of all times.