Cherishing What We Use Again

Wasting what is still useful is a tragedy of the modern age

I have recently been introduced to the writings of Adrian Bell¹, a remarkable Englishman of the past century, whose writings evidence a keen attention to the detail and stories of rural and agrarian life in post-war Suffolk. Bell documents a way of life that is beautiful, communal, simple, and limited, but alas, a beautiful life that has sadly vanished. Bell has thus rendered us a priceless service in capturing these stories and traditions of old, so that we are not without their witness and example in this present age. The lessons from these wise rural folk can still teach us much today. Yes, their way of life was full of challenges, discomfort, and frustrations, but there was also a richness to their life — seen in deep community, simple contentment, and immersion in nature — that we can but envy.

One remarkable encounter Bell documents in his book ‘Men and the Fields’ concerns some old reins and bridle of a horse — a mass of tangled and mangled leather on the floor — which to the eye of the uninitiated looked only fit for the rubbish heap. However, the shepherd in whose possession these reins now were, knew otherwise:

“Ah I mustn’t leave he behind… There was an old harness-maker in the village — old Ely. He’d codge a bit of harness up, no matter how rotten, and would only charge about a shilling.”²

Adrian goes on to note that Old Ely never thought about making money, indeed his enterprise would never earn him anything anyway. When you factor in time, he probably operated at a loss — but this didn’t seem to matter. Whereas others wouldn’t mend a mangled harness but would try to sell you a new one, Old Ely obviously enjoyed giving new lease of life to that which in his eyes, and the eyes of the owner (and perhaps them alone), could become valuable again. The community was richer because of Old Ely. When he died, the local people realised they had lost someone of great worth — and his like they will probably never see again.