One of the harshest verdicts on newcomers’ behaviour on being afforded a hearty welcome to the finest county of them all came shortly after the Second World War.

H.J. Harcourt, writing in the fledgeling Norfolk Magazine in 1948 – it started early life as The Norfolker, but readers soon voted that a clumsy title – summed it up thus:   “Strangers who come into our midst are inclined treat us with benevolent condescension or with undisguised superciliousness and then expect us to acclaim them as saviours and harbingers of salvation”.

Some may affirm useful lessons have been learnt since, although Norfolk still has to put up with plenty of ribbing about being on the road to nowhere and working hard to keep that old drawbridge intact.

I suspect some of these “backwater” comments are born out of envy.

Even those in the vanguard of the Development Express roaring through too many parts of the county in recent decades must have caught at least a fleeting glimpse of what is being replaced. There’s also now an element of admiration in backhanders like: “The only way to lead Norfolk people is to find out which they are going -and then  march in front of them”.

It's one thing to be noticed for being different , and to be amusingly chastised for it, but Norfolk stalwarts draw the line at being asked to apologise for just following natural instincts.

I recall a newcomer soaked in missionary zeal saying to a parish meeting packed with immovable natives  : “You have a real problem .. you have no talent for surrender”. At once a pat on the back and a kick in the shins . A double-edged remark that might have been specially minted with Norfolk’s cussed corps in mind. Admired in one breath and attacked in the next”.

There used to be two opening gambits in dealing with the Norfolk agitator always moaning about rape and pillage of his domain by property barons,  pushy incomers and various other insensitive creatures.

A contemptuous sniff or patronising tap on the head was normally enough to send him shuffling towards some dark corner to mouth ancient oaths and contemplate the diminishing role of the rural sage.

Buy him a half, put it down to planning gain on the progress ledger, agree it’s a hard old world nowadays … but that’s the way the dickey crumbles. Buy him another half  and tell him to get his name down for the proposed Hemlock Pastures sheltered housing before all places are snapped up.

Now it takes sharper ploys to put down an uprising. Traditional protesting methods are being coated in subtlety.

For instance, many who used to think you had to get hoarse and turn six shades of purple to make a point now know the value of a nudge, a wink, a smile or well-directed whisper.

That should not be construed as a form of capitulation. On the contrary, this marked change in approach can confuse the opposition to such a degree it leads to strange little spells of relatively peaceful co-existence.

The cynic might suggest the exploited are becoming as crafty as the would-be exploiters.

The optimist will claim the urge for showdown can be overtaken by the spirit of compromise. Not all developers are pin-striped hard-hearted speculators and spoilers.

Not all natives are straw-sucking, buskin-clad peasants who can recall antics of the English Land Restoration League towards end of the 19th Century.

The indigenous old guard have been joined in some places  by battalions of newcomers ready to help preserve what they moved for in the first place.

Indeed, a clutch of local watchdog groups have blossomed as direct result of this new  alliance.

Extra numbers mean more influence and this is one area where the county’s dramatic growth could yet prove a strange kind of blessing.

For all that, a theory still resonates that people are bound to be drawn to pleasant parts to live, to work to retire, to visit, and these freedoms should be actively encouraged at a time of considerable population movement.

But what of the freedom of those descended upon from a great height to demand enough leeway to retain some degree of local pride and identity?  

Why should they be dismissed as eccentric left-overs when so much more damage can still be caused?

They care passionately about where Norfolk is going as well as where it has been, and they are entitled to draw attention to some follies of the past in hope of avoiding too many additions or repetitions.

Norfolk’s cussed corps have no talent for surrender, a glorious fault worth preserving, and a problem worth advertising while forces of change continue to hurt much more they enhance.