Everything else on the table will sit on your cloth, so choose its colour first. Autumn rewards a palette pulled straight from the garden: oat, stone, bracken, russet, damson and deep moss green. Washed linen in a slubby natural weave is ideal, and it does not need to be pressed to within an inch of its life — a few soft creases suit the mood. If you prefer a bare table, run a length of wool or hessian down the centre instead.
Layer for warmth without fuss. A wool runner over a linen cloth, or a folded throw used as a table covering, adds instant depth. If you are seating people on a bench, a cushion each and a basket of blankets within reach will do more for the atmosphere than any centrepiece.
Go out with secateurs and a basket before you do anything else. The best autumn arrangements are usually the ones that came from twenty paces of the back garden. Cut in the morning while stems are plump, condition them in deep water for a few hours, and arrange them in whatever you already own — jam jars, a stoneware jug, an old enamel pail.
Keep arrangements low. Anything taller than a handspan will block the view across the table, and the whole point of the evening is the conversation.
Candlelight flatters everyone and softens the edges of an imperfect table. Choose unscented beeswax or soy candles near food — you want the smell of supper, not a competing fragrance. Cluster them in uneven numbers: three in the centre, five along a runner, a pair on a sideboard.
Use glass hurricanes or small lanterns if the table is near a draughty door, and keep every flame well clear of dried foliage and linen. Light the candles a quarter of an hour before guests arrive so the room has already settled into its glow, and turn off any overhead light. A single lamp in the corner is all the electric light you need.
Autumn is the season to lean into mismatched china. Cream and off-white pieces blend together whatever their pattern, and charity shop finds in pewter, stoneware or dark green sit happily alongside them. Deep bowls work well for a first course of soup or roasted roots, and a large platter in the middle of the table does more for the sense of occasion than individual plating ever will.
For glassware, amber, smoke or dark green tumblers look lovely in low light. If you use napkins, choose cloth and tie each one loosely with garden twine and a sprig of rosemary or thyme. It takes two minutes and looks as though you thought about it far longer.
Scent is memory, and autumn scents are the easiest of all. A pan of apple peel, cinnamon and clove simmering gently on the hob will scent the whole ground floor. In the dining room itself, keep it subtle — a bowl of quince or a few sprigs of thyme on the table is plenty.
The most memorable autumn tables are never the most styled. They are the ones where a plate has been passed, a candle has guttered slightly, and someone has moved the foliage to one side to make room for the pudding. Do the preparation early, then leave it alone.
Choose one hot dish you can make ahead — a slow-roast shoulder, a root vegetable gratin, a big pot of something that improves on standing — and let the table do the theatre. Crumbs on the cloth and rings on the wood are proof that people relaxed, ate well and stayed late. That, far more than a perfect centrepiece, is what an autumn gathering is for.