Trustworthy Citizens

There is something I feel I must confess to you all. I will admit it, and I will do so without shame – I am 27 and a proud card-carrying member of the National Trust. You might be under the impression that National Trust properties are full of Ednas, Noras and Bettys - bus loads from the Sea Breeze Retirement Village, groups of ladies from the WI wearing their best twin-set and pearls, and the white-haired set visiting as part of their OAP Coach Tours of Britain holiday. But you would be wrong. OK, the grannies certainly do form a sizeable percentage of visitors to National Trust properties but there is a growing number of younger members who are equally interested in our heritage and are keen to preserve it for future generations. I have a very good friend who is also an owner of a little green card (OK, her husband does nickname her Betty and she does wear her pearls almost every day but she really is the same age as me) and there is nothing we like better than to spend an afternoon walking through a grand stately home and imagining what life must have been like for those who lived there.


The Husband is also a member, although that is more through force than by choice. I have found, however, that he can often be persuaded to visit a property with the promise of a cream tea in the tea rooms afterwards. And with just that promise, on the way back from Leeds to Solihull we took a slight detour off the motorway to visit an important historical home, Hardwick Hall. Those of you who have read Philippa Gregory’s The Other Queen will recognise the name, as it was built by Bess of Hardwick, sometime keeper of Mary Queen of Scots during her time under house arrest. It is one of the most significant Elizabethan country estates in England, having been little altered in four hundred years, and therefore provides a fascinating insight into Elizabethan life. That, to me, is far more interesting than the virtual world that so many people my age spend their spare time inhabiting – this is real life, lived by our ancestors hundreds of years ago when the world was different beyond recognition. Why someone would rather play a computer game or watch a film when real life is so interesting is beyond me.

I think, though, that The Husband might be one of those. As I was peering at every piece of furniture and reading every sign, he was getting more and more ratty. It was time to take him for his promised cream tea. Except that the tea room was packed full of people and there was nowhere to sit. So we quickly left and headed towards the nearby working mill, something with cogs and moving parts, something that made something tangible. This was more his thing. In theory, it was fascinating – a watermill constructed in 1849 still milling flour to this day. I could have looked around it in about five minutes but we were kindly given a guided tour by the stewards who explained the workings to us in minute detail. I smiled and nodded, not really understanding a word of what they were saying. Every time I went to say thank you and turn to leave, The Husband, his engineering brain fully engaged, would ask another question. I now know how he feels when I ask about furniture or paintings in the houses.

Still, we both came away having learnt many new things. I learnt that it is perfectly acceptable to prominently display your initials by carving them into the stonework of your house and The Husband learnt that, unless you are perfectly happy never to leave, it is not wise to ask an old man who loves to talk a single question.