28 APRIL 2001, Page 51

Save our heritage

Leanda de Lisle

In Northamptonshire one of England's most important country houses is falling into ruin. Apethorpe Hall has a long and romantic history dating back to the 15th century. But in the 1980s it had the misfortune to fall into the hands of a Libyan who left the country shortly after and appears to have abandoned it to the elements. Long grass now grows in its courtyards, while its elaborate Jacobean ceilings crumble onto rotting floors.

I became interested in Apethorpe in the course of researching a book on James I that I'm writing for HarperCollins. He visited the house several times, the first occasion being the year of his accession in 1603. His host and hostess then were Sir Anthony and Lady Mildmay — he, the cold, diplomat son of the founder of Emmanuel College, Cambridge, and she, Grace, the long-suffering sister of the passionate Olive Sharington, who nearly killed her lover after jumping into his arms from the battlements of Abbey church. Grace was something of an expert on herbal medicines with a cure for every part of the body (including 'an adult penis or man's yard', no less) so perhaps she helped save her future brother-in-law.

But Grace Mildmay was a good cook too. On James's first visit to Apethorpe he

was greeted with tables that were newly covered with costly banquets wherein everything that was most delicious for taste, proved more delicate by the art that made it seem beauteous to the eye; the Lady of the house being one of the most excellent confectioners in England'. Sir Anthony presented James with a Barbary horse and a magnificent saddle. In later years James returned to enjoy the excellent hunting in the area and it is said that on his visit in 1614 he was presented with something he liked even better than a Barbary horse: George Villiers.

Apethorpe grew and developed over subsequent centuries. You wouldn't expect to see the gravel garden that James may have walked with the charming George as it was 400 years ago. But nor would one expect to find its stone walls as silent and lonely as those of some Mayan city in the jungles of Central America. Apethorpe is listed as Grade I. Such buildings represent a mere 4 per cent of our historic properties. Each is of national importance. Felicitously, Apethorpe is also at the very heart of our rich and densely populated island. But either the Libyan wishes to advertise himself as a philistine — a strange thing for someone who lives in Athens to do — or he can find no suitable buyers to take it off his hands.

English Heritage have been involved with Apethorpe since the local authority begged them for help about 18 months ago. They tell me that five Urgent Works Notices have now been served, each of which had first to be passed by the secretary of state. According to the local director, the only substantial response was to the first, when some work was done to the stable block. They are now drawing up a schedule of works, which will also have to be agreed by the secretary of state before being passed on to Apethorpe's Libyan owner. But then what happens?

Those who lavish their love and bad taste on a listed property are dealt with quickly and told to tear down modern additions and return what was old. Neglect is a trickier abuse to deal with. In December a number of heritage organisations produced a document entitled The Power of Place: The Future of the Historic Environment. It suggests that the government legislates to impose a duty of care on the owners of historic sites. The government has yet to respond. It is an area which does need to be looked at carefully. The wrong decision could make listed buildings very unattractive to private and other owners. But we cannot complain about the Taliban destroying ancient statues in Afghanistan and also allow a house like Apethorpe to fall into ruin.