Two things come to mind when I think about visitors books. The first is the memory of leaving the home of a low-profile and secretive single man whose company is widely craved. I had been revelling in a sense of self-importance as I had good reason to suspect that the previous occupant of my guest bed had been none other than the late Queen Elizabeth II. Surely this proximity elevated my own moral and social status in some osmotic way? But when I suggested I sign his visitors book my host became querulous. He declared that he didn’t have a visitors book for the precise reason that he didn’t like the idea of his friends ‘snooping’ to see who else had been there.
I think of the canny businesswoman who ran a holiday cottage letting agency in Devon 20 years ago. Then, as now, chancers were trying it on vis à vis refunds. One complained that noisy building work had ruined his family’s recent holiday. The canny businesswoman went directly to the visitors book where the family had written – as encouraged by the agency – an account of their stay.
A rave review was detailed there. The cosiness, the log fires, the happy days on the beach… No mention of noise. She photographed the pages and sent them back to the complainant. That was the last she heard from him.
But lengthy descriptions and compliments are not encouraged by grandees who keep visitors books for friends. They want only name and date. In fact they often enforce this by standing next to those signing. The reason for this diktat is that so many people get into a state trying to think of something witty or appropriate to say.
One of these enforcers is my friend Louise with whom, 30 years ago, I drove for miles to a bespoke paper-maker. Louise had learned that the pages, unless made of acid-free, archival-quality paper, would crumble to dust in 50 years or so and the historic social record would be of no value. The resulting leather-bound, ‘landscape’-sized book, about half the size of a card table, has stood in her entrance hall all these years with a proper pen next to it.
Why do visitors books matter? I asked Louise (Guinness). ‘The main point is the written record of who has spent a night in the house. You’d be surprised how often people say “I think it’s about five years since I was last here” and you can say “Let’s check the visitors book”. It’s also quite sweet seeing the handwriting of children develop from wonky, filling-up-half-a-page scratchings to their final adult scrawl over the years. It is also for the hosts a visible proof of some kind of achievement – you can flick through the year and think “Well, I did that weekend… oh and that one” and so on.’
Louise adds: ‘I also have a bossy note, now laminated, that reads “Please don’t SQUEEZE. If in doubt start a new page”. This is a personal, perhaps very petty, preference as I think it looks awful to see a signature squashed at the end of a page. Sometimes shy people need encouragement to sign proudly and boldly.’
Incidentally, if you do have a royal to stay the custom is to give them a whole page, just for their own signature.
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