Many of the National Trust’s former residents were cat lovers and today a number of our places are still home to feline friends. From Scrap, a midnight black cat with a fondness for cake, to Rubeus, a boisterous Bengal who prowls the gardens at Cotehele, discover the stories of some of the cats that call our historic places home.
The hungry gardener: Scrap
The gardeners who grow the produce in Attingham Park’s 18th-century Walled Garden have an unusual member of their team: midnight-black Scrap. Born to a feral cat in Attingham’s orchard, Scrap has lived in the Walled Garden for most of her life and takes her role of protecting the produce from mice and rabbits very seriously.
Scrap relaxing on her seat at break time
National Trust/Rachel Barnes
Scrap relaxing on her seat at break time
She also finds time to entertain visitors, arranging herself on the bench in front of the garden bothy to catch their attention during summer, while in winter she heads inside to warm herself in front of the crackling log burner, or relaxes in pools of sunlight in the glasshouses.
It’s a good thing Scrap is good at her job because she’s not perfectly behaved. A typical National Trust employee, she has a penchant for cakes and biscuits, and will try to steal them from volunteers at break time.
The boisterous Bengal: Rubeus
Rubeus is the resident cat at Cotehele, a Tudor house and garden in Cornwall. In case you were wondering, Rubeus is indeed named after the gamekeeper in the Harry Potter stories, Rubeus Hagrid.
Rubeus prowling through the garden at Cotehele
National Trust Images/John Millar
Rubeus prowling through the garden at Cotehele
But while Hagrid was an animal-lover, ruthless Rubeus prefers to hunt them. The brown-spotted Bengal also likes to hunt human food and one of his favourite pastimes is stealing from visitors in the Barn Restaurant.
When he’s not seeking out something to eat, Rubeus might be found following visitors around the garden, snoozing on a blanket in reception or photobombing.
The happy huntress: Ariel
The first thing you should know about Ariel is that she isn’t named after a Disney princess, so don’t expect her to act like one. Ariel is Hebrew for ‘Lion of God’ – much more fitting for this feisty feline. This spirited tabby moved to Coughton in September 2011 as a seven-week-old kitten, and she has grown up exploring its grounds.
Ariel sunbathes in Coughton's grounds
National Trust/Abi Cole
Ariel sunbathes in Coughton's grounds
Although her favourite spot is the Cain Brook, where long grasses provide the perfect mouse-hunting ground, Ariel is known to explore far and wide. She wanders the fern-lined paths in the bog garden, stalks her human family as they walk around the property, and enjoys charging over the lawns and up trees.
She’s also a skilled hunter, which is appreciated by Coughton’s gardeners. But energetic Ariel isn’t always on the go. In winter she’s just as happy lounging in front of the blazing open fire.
From rags to riches, this is the story of a cat that got the National Trust cream, and the Churchill request that there should always be a marmalade cat at Chartwell.
In February 2018 we welcomed to Chastleton three new cats to the site to play, catch and roam at their leisure.
The aristo-cats: The Peckovers’ cats and Algernon
In a sheltered spot of Peckover House and Garden in Cambridgeshire is a small graveyard. Here lie Bijou, Zeta, Angel, Pharos, Ginger and Marmie, the beloved cats of the Peckover family.
Today Peckover is home to Algernon, or Algie. This thick-coated feline is named after Algernon Peckover, one of two brothers who helped develop much of the surrounding area.
Alexandrina and Anna Jane with their cats in the Peckover gardens
National Trust Images/Sue James
Alexandrina and Anna Jane with their cats in the Peckover gardens
Algie is a cuddle-seeker and will climb the gardeners’ legs or sit on their laps while they’re working in search of attention. But he also has a surprising nemesis; blackbirds. The birds are completely unafraid of him, and he sometimes has to have a minder to stop them tucking into his dinner.