Heritage in danger(2)

England's churches

Patrick Cormack, MP

A few weeks ago I wrote of the threat to our country houses posed by new forms of taxation in the midst of inflation. The same inflation, and different but equal attendant dangers, threat-. ens those other jewels in England's architectural heritage, our parish churches.

Their plight may not be as dramatic as that which faces some of our great cathedrals but in many ways it is worse for they lack the fame which so often enables the public, and international, appeal to achieve, as at York, such magnificent and spectacular success. But if it is unthinkable to contemplate an England without York Minster or Lincoln or Salisbury Cathedrals it is as difficult and as painful to imagine her without her ancient churches.

There are over ten thousand churches listed as being 'of special architectural or historic interest' in England and on Easter Sunday most of them rang to the praises of the occasionally faithful. These are the festival Christians. They will be back for Harvest home and Christmas carols and from time to time to mark the passing of a loved one, or some happier event.

Few of them, and few of the visitors, however knowledgeable their interest or reverent their attentions, will leave much token of their appreciation as they carry on their way. Yet their mourning would be loud and heartfelt if signs of 'Danger' and 'Keep Out' barred the way to occasional conformity or to historic or artistic pilgrimage. Many of us fall into one of these categories, infrequent worshipper or eager tourist, many into both. And there can be few, whether abed or in church on an Easter morning, whether clutching a guide-book or a lawn-mower on a lazy summer's afternoon, who would not cry out against the destruction of even a single, undistinguished English country church. In fact, a great many of those ten thousand churches are in danger of destruction: not the immediate destruction of sudden collapse but the slow and total destruction of decay. It is only the faithful and continuing struggle of often tiny regular congregations, sometimes sustained by the intelligent and caring generosity of bodies like the Historic Churches Preservation Trust, that has kept England's mediaeval heritage more or less intact so far. But with the passing of time and the ravages of inflation the problems are increasing. Unlike any other form of art, architecture requires unceasing and costly maintenance, and those who have the responsibility of maintaining our churches are frequently ill-equipped to provide for their up-keep, as rural populations dwindle and the centres of our old towns empty. The recent plea of a vicar of a locally notable but nationally unknown mediaeval church, one of three in his charge, is all too typical:

new wooden floors have been put in under the pews and in the vestry, owing to dry-rot. We have had to put a drainage trench round part of the outside wall to cure rising damp. I had hoped for a better response from the parish, and some more should still come from our appeal, but agriculture and many businesses are not doing at all well at the moment. We will continue trying for later we shall have to renew tracery in some windows.

He has not given up and he is appealing for help from the Historic Churches Preservation Trust. He may be successful, for over the last twenty-three years the trust has come to the aid of hundreds of similar churches great and small. The trust's own survival, however, depends upon the contributions of thousands of Jindividuals, organisations and companies. It has some wonderful achievements to its credit, as have the Friends of Friendless Churches and the many local county trusts throughout the country. One thinks of the indefatigable example of Lady Harrod and her followers in Norfolk, and for a moving example of the problem in microcosm I think of the villagers of Aston Eyre in Shropshire, all 150 of them. Their devoted fund-raising together with a grant from the trust, has saved their simple gem with its exquisite Norman tympanum.

But Aston Eyre is small and many of our mediaeval churches, legacies without endowments, are enormous and the efforts of congregations, however dedicated, and Trusts, however generous, will not be sufficient to save them. For the sums to be raised are in local terms, frequently enormous, and inflation adds to them daily: £20,000 to replace a fine parish church's parapet in a city where most local effort is understandably directed towards saving the crumbling cathedral; £5,000 to be found for repairs to the roof of a fourteenth century church in a parish of 150 souls; £3,000 for essential first-aid in a tiny Norfolk village of 60 people. And to all these sums VAT has to be added, for repairs to historic buildings do not qualify for exemption or zero rating.

Local authorities do have power to assist with grants but are generally reluctant to do so. To date the state can only step in if the church is declared 'redundant' and while one rejoices at the success of the Redundant Churches Fund in rescuing seventy fine old churches no one has suggested that that number can possibly grow to more than 400 in the next two decades.

If Lavenham, Blakeney, Beverley and Louth — I select at random and could name a thousand more — are to gratify the eye and uplift the spirit a hundred years from now two things are necessary. First, from those who pray at festivals and from those who visit there must be a willingness to give towards the upkeep of the fabric the sort of sum that is willingly sacrificed to visit a stately home or foreign museum. Second, and more important, the provision of public funds to assist in maintaining churches in use — at least agreed in principle — must be expedited.

All credit is due to Anthony Crosland for acknowledging that churches are as much a national heritage as secular buildings, and as deserving of help from the public purse. Certainly the £1 million at 1973 prices promised for this purpose as the result of the Minister's study of surveys undertaken by the church in the Lincoln and Norwich dioceses will bring a richer, more satisfying and lasting return than most government expenditure — as long as the agreement in principle is quickly translated into money in practice. It can be if those 'entrusted with the detailed negotiations

between church and state (`Churches' Would be more accurate as this is not exclusively an Anglican problem) allow the urgency of their task to inspire them with the determination to reach an early conclusion. This should be possible, for the old difficulties caused by the complications of the 'ecclesiastical exemption' from certain planning regulations are no longer seen to be insuperable obstacles to state aid for churches in use: help towards repairing the spire need not involve any liturgical inhibitions.

Of course, state aid is not the complete answer to the problem. At best it can only supplement the efforts of congregations and the trusts. It will not replace local responsibility or the need for increasing private benevolence. But its prospect does bring a new ray of hope.

If congregations retain their determination; if the trusts are not starved of benefactions in the midst of our economic troubles; if those who admire do not merely pass by; if government can crown intention with action, we shall not have to imagine England without her ancient churches. But there are to many 'ifs' for comfort or complacency.

Patrick Cormack, Conservative MP for Staffordshire South-West, is vice-chairman of the 'Heritage in Danger' committee