Thursday, September 29, 2022

FANCY FINANCIAL FOOTWORK

 

Very quickly, amid great national turmoil, Liz Truss has had to get her government together, decide on her priorities and make an impression on financial and political markets.



Truss and Kwarteng (in prudently protective gear!)

 A comprehensive Energy Protection package for businesses of all kinds was announced on 21 September, organized by Jacob Rees-Mogg.. The “fiscal event”, not a budget, was duly unveiled on 23 September by the new Chancellor Kwasi Kwarteng. It was intended to:

(1)    Reinstate some promises Boris and Rishi Sunak had broken (e.g. abolition of the 45% top rate of tax, halting a rise in corporation tax),

(2)    Open up the UK economy from ingrained restrictions, sacrificing some equality for incentives to business and workers (removing the cap on bankers’ bonuses, reforming IR35, easing of planning restrictions, reducing income tax)

(3)    Reassure UK and overseas markets that the UK was an attractive business-friendly place to invest in and make profits.

Although delivered with some aplomb and confidence, the reception of this package was hostile and questioning, the exchange rate nosedived and gilt yields rocketed. Partly this was a revival of historic bad memories – the Tory “dash for growth” by Anthony Barber in 1970 under Heath ended in dust and ashes. Many worried that there were contradictions in the package – how could large tax cuts be made, which would be inflationary, when inflation was already alarmingly high? Where were the revenue rises or spending cuts to pay for it all? Short and long-term issues were being confused.

Unluckily for the government, this brouhaha arose as the Labour Party was ending its annual Conference and every loony Leftie in the land was in insurrectionary Liverpool, hogging the cameras of a compliant media. Keir Starmer put on his responsible face and claimed Liz Truss had “lost control” and he was the man to sort it out. (The world knows that Labour could not run a whelk-stall.) Somehow Conference was persuaded to sing God save the King at the start (unconvincingly) but was much surer when singing The Red Flag at the end. Of course, once a Commie…………

The venal British media joined the noisy chorus. All the doom-mongers, all those with a grudge against Truss, all the residual Remoaners, all the half-baked “experts” crawled from under their stones and spat out their bile. Even my Telegraph descended into incoherence in describing the dilemma of the Bank of England as it rushed to buy long gilts:

The contagion risks of margin calls, caused by higher gilt yields, meant that a reflexive negative feedback loop into falling UK asset prices had become too high, risking a doom loop. (Is this plain English, editor?)

 

Anyhow, I gather this intervention steadied the market on 28 September and the Bank rather than the unrepentant Government blinked first. We do not need dramatics – we want expansionary policies introduced competently. Our political world calls out for bright new ideas, out-of-the-box thinking and above all the courage to face down the dead-beats of the establishment and the leaden weight of the past.

Go to it Liz, Kwasi and Jacob!

 

SMD

28.09.22

Text copyright © Sidney Donald 2022

Thursday, September 22, 2022

REASONS TO BE PROUD


 

After the magnificent State Funeral for Queen Elizabeth II, a time for reflection and a time for pride. We were moved and our hearts swelled with pride at the historic rituals, the seamless transition to a new kingdom, and the rich legacy bestowed upon us by a beloved monarch.

Her journey from Balmoral and the looming mountain of Lochnagar made me particularly proud.

Oh! for the crags that are wild and majestic,

The steep, frowning glories of dark Lochnagar

(Byron)

Born and bred in Aberdeen, the heathery villages of Royal Deeside are very familiar to me; Ballater, Aboyne, Banchory, Peterculter, Bieldside and Cults into Aberdeen were the site of many a happy family excursion over two generations, and are forever part of me. Then Her Majesty’s hearse turned South to historic Dundee and Perth, before crossing the Forth Bridge and entering the majestic city of Edinburgh, capital of proud Scotland. A night at Holyrood Palace and then the procession accompanying the hearse up the Royal Mile, through Stuart and Hanoverian Edinburgh. Scottish soldiers and eagle-feathered members of the Company of Archers providing a body-guard to St Giles, the High Kirk of Edinburgh, a heart-warming sight.



The Edinburgh bearer party

Scotland did the late monarch proud and the ceremony heartened the many Scots who attended or watched it. I imagine it has set back the cause of independence for a generation. The royal family have strong connections with their beloved Scotland and those links will not wither. Proud Scotland salutes!

The scene moved to London and the 4-day lying-in-state in Westminster Hall, a place redolent of major events in the history of these islands. Some 250,000 people filed past to pay their respects, many ordinary, modest people who were moved. I was proud of them.

 

There were vigils too by the late Queen’s 3 sons and daughter and a later one by her grandchildren, all moving in their way and evoking our sympathy and common humanity.

Then on the 19th the late Queen was carried in procession from Westminster Hall to Westminster Abbey, her Grenadier Guards bearer party, young recent recruits receiving general admiration for their precision and bearing. They made us all proud.



 

The Grenadier Guard bearer party

The Abbey looked resplendent, as ever, and was packed full of the great and the good. The funeral service itself was rather bland to my taste and the music somehow lacked zing. Much more engaging was the Committal Service at St George’s Chapel Windsor, a poignant farewell with a reverent atmosphere as the crown, orb and sceptre were removed, the Chamberlain snapped his rod of office, the sonorous words of the Book of Common Prayer and the coffin sank through the floor to the crypt below.

On the journey from London to Windsor we had a glimpse of the Britain left behind – much teeming suburbia, housing a diverse population, some green fields, a rural atmosphere on the road into Windsor, The Queens’ Shetland pony, lines of faithful retainers, some of the spirit of England. Soon a sad but proud day was over.

Our country has its peculiarities and is doubtless not perfect. But it fits most of our people like a glove. There is so much of which we can be joyfully proud, so much to cherish. As the Elizabethan Age ends, let us welcome the promising Age of Charles III.


SMD.

22.9.22

Text copyright © Sidney Donald 2022

Monday, September 12, 2022

CHANGING THE GUARD

 

 

The moment we had all anticipated, but also dreaded, duly came on Thursday 8 September with the passing of H M Queen Elizabeth II at the grand age of 96 at her beloved Scottish home of Balmoral. The great bulk of her UK subjects will feel diminished by the end of her reassuring presence and will be hugely grateful for her dutiful and devoted service as their monarch for 70 years. Her son Charles succeeds as King Charles III and he has the support and goodwill of all the nation.

               


                                                 The Annigoni Portrait from 1955

            


              The final day’s duty: Liz Truss is invited by the Queen to form a government, 6.9.22

We are left with all manner of memories from the last 70 years. I believe the institution of monarchy is strongly entrenched in the sentiments of the people and will endure.

 

A new monarch and a new government have to find their feet. Liz Truss has risen to this extraordinary situation with a competent air. Her Cabinet is remarkably diverse (hopefully not too demoralisingly so for the 87% white majority!) and has a stiff agenda. Ideologically it is on the right wing but I am reminded of St Augustine of Hippo who prayed “to be blessed with Chastity, but not yet!”. For this right-wing government has unveiled a vast “temporary” Socialist programme (to cap energy costs for households and businesses at a cost of 130bn) which will blow a huge hole in the promise of smaller government, will delay the genesis of the free-market Utopia and will test the mettle of the new Chancellor Kwasi Kwarteng, a clever Etonian of Ghanian parentage.



                              Kwasi Kwarteng, Chancellor and key member of the Truss team

The cost-of-living crisis has to be tackled comprehensively; public services must be restored on a viable footing, The financing of the NHS needs remodelling and national educational standards improved. Our commitment to the NATO shield in the West cannot falter. Inevitable obstruction from the Whitehall Blob should be eliminated ruthlessly.

Ordinary people will have to navigate a difficult winter. The worst of potential horrors in terms of price rises seem unlikely to happen. But prices are rising and luxuries will need strict rationing – ham sandwiches rather than elaborate canapés, bitter rather than Prosecco, Marks & Sparks rather than Jermyn Street. No huge hardship but there are many less fortunate than I am. Travelling, a fairly basic activity, is made a misery by widespread strikes, most politically motivated. National morale is low and our leaders need to encourage and inspire – something Boris could do, when the spirit moved him, and before he descended into buffoonery. Michael Gove was also very eloquent before his bright star faded. Step forward, our new Cicero!

It is of course a huge Herculean Labour to get any modern democracy to support a government’s programme. The age of deference and weary acceptance is long gone. Our streets, conventional media and toxic social channels teem with malcontents, anarchists, doom-mongers, anti-vaxxers, nationalist irreconcilables and obsessed maniacs in profuse variety. They must be left to stew and the sensible remainder won over, or at least reconciled. Opinion moves with rapidity these days and government must win the information battle.

 

Our nation is ripe for renewal and we will again climb to great heights of achievement.  God save the King!

 

SMD

12.9.22

Text copyright © Sidney Donald 2022

Tuesday, August 30, 2022

HOLIDAY GOSSIP


In August we all try to get away, certainly Boris did (but he was going anyway), probably Biden did too (but who would notice any difference?) and Putin may do us all a favour and do himself away by diving in his macho-fashion, head-first into a deadly radioactive pool at Zaporizhzhia (Yes, Vlad, jump!). Anyhow I feel no guilt being in Greece and finishing a week’s excursion to the enchanted Aegean island of Samos, and am joined at my hotel by a rich variety of sun-seeking Europeans.



                                                        Putin - Nobody’s Pin-Up

Travel has always broadened the mind and flattened the wallet but this year it has been unusually accident-prone. My delightful eldest son sought a celebratory rendezvous with his 80-year-old Dad but was frustrated by a heat-wave, then a flood, then by re-catching Covid and finally by an errant roofer who contrived to put his foot through his 4th floor roof only to break his fall luckily on a high rafter with his crotch (Ouch!), Of course, at that point the London heavens opened, requiring a massive clear-up, and the attendance of the Fire Brigade. As somebody once said: Stuff Happens!

As for my European fellow-guests here, they are mainly well-behaved German-speakers, Swedes and Poles. I admit to being rather a conservative fellow and do not admire the tattoos on bellies, necks and backs of at least half the females. I can also see how far the obesity pandemic has gone. Once I had thought it was confined to the junk-food guzzling hordes of America, but no, certainly the female Aurochs is alive and well in Europe too, where colossal fatsos abound. I am far from svelte myself, but I am completely outclassed by these lumbering grotesques.



                                                                      The Aurochs

 The Tory leadership and hence prime ministerial contest in the UK has ground on too long but it looks like Liz Truss will win the prize. If she delivers what she promises (a big “if”), she is a good choice, being a no-nonsense Yorkshire woman with a Thatcherite streak. I understand the new government will challenge the entrenched orthodoxies of Whitehall, and not before time. What happened to the Bank of England, whose mission is to control inflation, but who failed to warn us of the inflationary tsunami engulfing us? Once the Governor’s eyebrows were eloquent; now Governor Bailey is all thumbs. Was Lockdown worth the damage it caused to the economy? Boris, and alas, Gove, both swallowed whole all the bad vibes from the now-knighted Patrick Vallance, Chris Whitty and Jonathan Van Tam. Sweden did not lockdown and suffered proportionately less damage. So, did we impoverish ourselves unnecessarily? What was the intellectual process?

The NHS has not performed well in the pandemic and it needs to be re-modelled. The outcome from many illnesses is far worse in the UK than in comparable European or first-world economies. The private sector must be incentivised to invest. Our secondary school system produces many pupils unfit for work in the modern world; this is an emergency – we cannot wait for a solution to “evolve”.

We do not have an embarrassment of talent in UK politics - I would regret Gove’s disappearance and hope Sunak will be given a useful post. I am heartened by the likely return of John Redwood (he has brains) and the mooted retention of Jacob Rees-Mogg, doggedly holding on to the best values of about 1910. No Tory worth his salt should fail to put the clock back! There are excellent people coming through – Kemi Badenoch, Penny Mordaunt, Tom Tugendhat, Ben Wallace spring to mind and may rise to new challenges.

I have no doubt we face a difficult winter but let that not spoil our high summer. We should face the future with a sprightly confidence, face down our enemies and assure ourselves that the lessons of the past will be well learnt and that all our families and friends will enjoy a glorious and prosperous future.

 

SMD

28.08.22

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2022

Sunday, August 21, 2022

IN PRAISE OF LIBRARIES


The great Roman orator Marcus Tullius Cicero surely got it right:

 If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.

 I am currently ensconced in my home-library in Athens, surrounded by my most cherished books, which speak to me, some in a vociferously learned fashion, others in a light chatter of good-humoured fun. I love them all for the life-enhancing enchantment they generate.

                                        


                                                                   Heroic Cicero

I shall concentrate on libraries, as gardening was never my strong suit. I greatly admire a well-kept and appropriately-planted garden. Our home garden is too small but our delightful next-door neighbours, possessors of skilled green fingers, have an exquisitely beautiful English garden, an oasis of calm tranquillity, the venue of many an unforgettable barbecue. In truth gardens confer enormous pleasure.

My experience of libraries first dates from school. My Mearns prep-school had been donated volumes of the Times History of the Great War, lavishly illustrated. Other donations included Mein Kampf, less suitable for young minds and thankfully rambling and unreadable. There were strong sections of highly readable John Buchan and Edgar Allan Poe and much Arthur Ransome, which was not to my taste. We read the Famous Five books until they disintegrated. My Edinburgh public school library was more serious in tone and I devoured the volumes of Gibbon’s Decline and Fall and other histories.

 My mother read and was a member of a book club, whose monthly fiction offering was often something by A J Cronin or such-like. Her passion was Freud, Jung and Adler, and she loved to psycho-analyse family and friends, so she built up a library of her own. My father read less but he was presented at Christmas with beautifully bound almanacs, reference books and guides from commercial partners, all adding to the home library. I would be sent down to the Aberdeen main Boots store which had a very active lending library. The fare there was quite light – thrillers and show-biz biographies abounded – but there was much to amuse.

I was briefly a language student of French in Paris in 1961 and I pay homage to the British Council library there in the Quartier Latin. I was exiting a religious phase, but I recall enjoying Donne’s eloquent Sermons and even embarked on Law’s Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life. The call went unheeded and instead I read Sophocles’ incomparable Plays.

At Oxford University, I did most of my academic reading at the austere New Bodleian, but for some history and politics the sources were found at the glorious Radcliffe Camera, masterpiece of Scots, nay, Aberdonian architect, James Gibbs. Gibbs is also remembered for his St Martins in the Fields in London’s Trafalgar Square, so much imitated in America, especially in Protestant New England.



                                Gibbs’s Radcliffe Camera, Oxford

Britain never did build the ecclesiastically dominated libraries seen widely in Baroque and Rococo Europe yet they were often intellectually mean and monkish places attached to reactionary monasteries. Britain knew that libraries were nothing if they were not beacons of enlightenment and the search for truth, and built accordingly, beside universities and civic centres, in an inclusive spirit.

My library is quite modest but to me it is full of goodies. Ancient history features Thucydides, Plutarch, Suetonius, Gibbon et al while Byzantium has a good showing with John Julius Norwich, Runciman and Ostrogorsky. Political biographies abound with fine volumes on Wellington, Disraeli, Asquith, Macmillan and Churchill and a fatally dated Van Loon’s Lives. Rather too much is from the bland and often uncritical Roy Jenkins. Memoirs, always to be approached with caution, include de Gaulle’s, Thatcher’s, Nigel Lawson’s and Harold Wilson’s (not to forget pariah Oswald Mosley’s) rewriting history to fortify their personal myth.

I love reading diaries and the Journals of James Boswell, the debauched Scotsman on the make, early inspired me. Apart from Boswell (and the only poncy thing about observant Pepys is his name) and maybe Alan Clark, it clearly helps to be gay to be a great diarist. They perhaps bear grudges more readily and have a feline characteristic like arch-snob James Lees-Milne, Chips Channon, Cecil Beaton, Noel Coward and Alan Bennett, but they give huge pleasure.


                     Lees-Milne in state

Of course, I have plenty classic novels, Dickens, Trollope and Dostoyevsky to the fore. Dotted about are unclassifiables like Patrick Leigh-Fermor’s travel volumes, anthologies or Betjeman on poetry or architecture. I do like controversialists, so H.L Mencken has a place of honour beside Christopher Hitchens, Tom Wolff, A. A. Gill and even our Boris.

I like to laugh and as I sit poolside next week, I will choose between the plot complexities and mad-cap schemes of P G Wodehouse or the wild imaginative leaps of Arthur Marshall. I will titter uncontrollably to the mystification of my Balkan fellow-tourists, frozen in my essential frivolity.

 

SMD

21.08.22

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2022

Saturday, July 16, 2022

JULY CATCHES FIRE


 

We knew that the post-Covid period would be difficult, as many in the working population had got used to the insidious attraction of “working from home”. We knew that there were gaps in the workforce, caused by Lockdown and new Brexit rules, which surfaced first on travelling and hospitality. We knew that the war in Ukraine squeezed many European economies and exacerbated an already rising cost-of-living increase. It was no surprise that the beleaguered NHS started to buckle again under the strain and the government did precious little to fix it. We were in a period of pleasant downward drift in the July sun, so what the hell?



                                                  Joe Root and Jonny Bairstow triumph against India

After all, summer in Britain has its compensations. We had racing glamour at Ascot, we had the Indian cricket team touring (England won the test series), our rugby union teams were touring abroad (amazingly, on a famous 9 July, Scotland beat Argentina 29-6, Wales beat South Africa 13-12, Ireland beat New Zealand 23-12, and England beat Australia 25-17). We had lots of tennis, with Cam Norrie shining brightly at Wimbledon, until defeat by Djokovic, who went on to win against mercurial Kyrgios. Open Golf from St Andrews is underway and no doubt there will be other sporting goodies.



                                Pincher, Boris’ Nemesis, making a sad end to a live-wire’s ministry

Then an obscure Tory deputy chief whip, one Chris Pincher, decided in his cups to grope two other male members at the esteemed Carlton Club in St James’s. A scandal broke, Pincher resigned his position but stayed an MP. Boris made untrue statements about his prior knowledge of Pincher’s proclivities and was flatly contradicted by a former civil servant, permanent under-secretary at the Foreign Office, no less. Boris’ bluster depressed even his loyalists, and first Sajid Javid and then Rishi Sunak resigned. A flood of resignations soon followed and his administration seemed on the point of collapse. Boris bowed to the inevitable and resigned as Tory Leader on 7 July, remaining as Prime Minister until a new Leader is chosen.

(Personally, I have supported Boris since he embraced the Brexit cause in 2016. He was a vote-winner and unexpectedly empathised with all classes of elector. His drive and charisma won over many and he found a way through the tangled maze of Brexit and agreed relations with the EU. He probably mishandled Covid lockdowns, surrendering to NHS dogma, but the vaccination programme was a triumph. He relied on clever gurus like Dominic Cummings until they overreached themselves. His support for Ukraine has been exemplary. But his private life was a mess, he lied far too easily over the “PartyGate” scandal and he did not master his brief as well as more conscientious politicians. He will be much missed, but might easily re-appear!)                                                                                                                                                                                    

Now we are being treated to a full-fig Conservative leadership election. Once a matter settled in a smoke-filled room, it is now a consultation of all Party members. 358 sitting MPs vote on initial candidates whittling down the number to two by 21 July. The golden two then face the 180,000 party members, voting remotely, and a result is due on 5 September. The process kicked off with 11 candidates and as I write it is now down to 5 – Rishi Sunak, Penny Mordaunt, Liz Truss, Kemi Badenoch and Tom Tugendhat. There has been plenty wind exhaled and ill-will expressed with tactical manoeuvres galore, but little in the way of serious policy pronouncements. This weekend there will be 2 or 3 televised “hustings” giving the candidates a chance to display their wares under questioning. So far, we have only had rather stilted presentations by the candidates – Sunak slick and (maybe too) self-confident, Mordaunt rather banal, Truss uncharismatic, Tugendhat boring, and surprise package Kemi Badenoch smart and engaging. Yet it is fairly certain that Tugendhat and Badenoch will be eliminated in the next rounds leaving Sunak, Truss and Mordaunt.

Sunak, Truss and Mordaunt


Since writing the above, I have watched the first “hustings” and actually was impressed by all the Famous 5 candidates. Sunak was very fluent, although over-doing the guff about “our wonderful NHS” and opposed to significant tax-cuts until inflation was abated; Mordaunt spoke sense about the cost of living, and the need for unity, but seemed fuzzy on policy; Truss was a little flat but emphasized her experience, she would deliver and hit the ground running; Badenoch was good on the need to repair the system; Tugendhat was eloquent on the need for fresh thinking from new faces. Of course, many of their comments were self-serving (they all want the big job) yet the debate was civil and reassuring that there was some talent left in the cosmopolitan Conservative Party post-Boris!

I could live with any of the 3 main contenders as Prime Minister. Sunak is the most vigorous but he is an easy target for the envious Left with his hugely wealthy “Non-Dom” wife. Truss is solid, experienced but lacking real oomph. Mordaunt has many internal critics for her lack of mastery of detail, but she presses many of the right buttons for me. Quite how Tory these 3 are is a riddle – some could equally well grace Starmer’s front bench. We are promised a heatwave next week, but let’s keep the debating temperature down and may the best candidate win on 5 September!

 

SMD

16.07.22

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2022

Friday, July 1, 2022

10 GREAT CHURCHES

 

England has many beauties, in her gentle landscapes, her eccentric towns, her splendid stately homes, but perhaps most of all she has unparalleled beauty in her parish churches. Those who know me will be surprised that I, a lapsed Scottish presbyterian and a sometimes-militant sceptic, harbour an enthusiasm for Anglican parish churches. However, inspired first by John Betjeman in the City of London, and then by Alec Clifton-Taylor further afield, using a guide-book gifted by my lovely wife, I visited many places and I wish to share with you 10 wonderful churches, below cathedral rank and outside London, which have warmed my heart with their charm and historic resonance.

1.       Selby Abbey 

Selby Abbey in North Yorkshire, about 12 miles south of the city of York, was one of the first churches I stepped into as a church amateur. Selby itself is a handsome town, once a prosperous port connected by canal to the sea. In the 1970’s the Selby coalfield was the great white hope of the Coal Board, with huge investment in vast reserves. Alas, it all turned to dust and ashes, when costs rocketed and prices nose-dived and the mine complex closed in 2004. The Abbey founded in 1069, has survived many fires, military occupations and drastic Gilbert Scott family restorations, making it an impressive sight with her stately towers and fine ashlar stone.


Selby: A Yorkshire Glory

The Norman Nave

For our American cousins there is even a modest George Washington family heraldic monument, as his ancestors came from hereabouts. Now, what if, young George had been a good boy and stayed on loyally serving King and Country?

2.       Long Melford 

Long Melford, a village in Suffolk, near the Essex border, is called “Long” because its main street stretches 2 ½ miles, said to be the longest in England. Its parish church, Holy Trinity, set on an elevated site, dates from 1484 and was constructed using the unpromising local flint stone. Yet it dazzles with flushwork walls (the decorative use of split flint in conjunction with dressed stone), a Suffolk speciality. Although much restored, the church sparkles with Tudor glass, memorials to benefactors and a splendid coat of arms of George I from the early 1700s. The impressive church tower was built in the 20th century and purists regret that its use of alien stone ignores the genius loci of the county. The east end of the church is unusually lengthened by a Lady Chapel, of quite distinctively separate design. Made up of quite different elements, this archetypical “wool” church is a tribute to Anglican tolerance and continuity, making a triumphant whole.

 

             Long Melford Church 

                                  
                            Medieval Glass              

                                            

3.       St Mary Redcliffe, Bristol 

Good Queen Bess declared that St Mary Redcliffe was “fairest, goodliest and most famous parish church in England”. It is a huge church, centrally situated quite near the main railway station, and over the centuries has been the favourite of the mariners and merchants of Bristol whose wealth has endowed and greatly beautified this lovely place.

St Mary Redcliffe

The North Porch

The stately exterior includes a tower and spire eccentrically placed in its North-West corner rather than over the crossing. The interior impresses by the lavish fact it is wholly vaulted, very unusual for England, especially in the mid-15th century. Fine wrought-ironwork abounds, as do monuments to eminent Bristolians. The astonishing North porch is a riot of Decorated Gothic with ogee arches, statuary, lierne vault, ball-flower decoration and overall extravaganza. This church is the pride of the great city of Bristol.

4.       Fairford 

Fairford in Gloucestershire, about 6 miles from Cirencester, is another “wool” Church, benefitting historically from the booming prosperity of the wool trade in late medieval England. Prized English wool was exported raw to skilled Flemish weavers in cities like Ghent, Bruges and Ypres and the English merchants generously endowed their local parish churches. The industrial revolution largely by-passed sheep-farming areas such as the Cotswolds and East Anglia, home to some of our finest churches.

Fairford is a handsome church but its great claim to fame lies in its stained glass. England has tragically lost almost all her medieval glass to Puritan fanaticism, vandalism, neglect and carelessness but at Fairford we see probably the most complete set of Pre-Reformation-stained glass remaining in England, comprising 28 windows of biblical scenes and related demonology. The glass was probably produced in Flanders and was booty seized following the siege of Boulogne in 1492. The church was built specially to receive the glass and was consecrated in 1498.

 

Fairford Church
                                             


The Last Judgment Window 

The colours, texture and impact are delightful. If the windows rattle when huge US B52 bombers roar into take-off from the nearby US air base, remember that these windows have survived much worse!

5.       St Peter Mancroft, Norwich 

Norwich is a city steeped in history with a lovely Anglican cathedral but the church dominating its city centre is the majestic St Peter Mancroft.

St Peter Manctroft

 

                                                          The hammer-beam roof

There is no such saint as St Peter Mancroft, nor a so-called locality, so the name is rather a mystery.  The church we see was completed in 1455, at a time of high Norwich prosperity, lavishly faced with imported limestone ashlar together with knapped flintstone. The interior, in the Perpendicular mode, is light and airy with some surviving medieval painted glass topped by a superb hammer-beam roof. The tower, housing bells which are renown in bell-ringing circles is crowned by a rather ungainly fleche designed by the Victorian architect G E Street, of the Law Courts in the Strand fame. St Peter is integrated with adjoining modern buildings and is the neighbour of the local market, being a typical town centre church serving its citizens today and for the last 560 years.

6.       Hexham Abbey 

This parish church, situated in the far North, in Northumberland and near parts of Hadrian’s Wall, has been in its time, since the 7th century, a cathedral, a monastery and a priory. It is in the centre of the town of Hexham on the south bank of the Tyne, 21 miles from Newcastle. The church was rebuilt in the 13th century and boasts a fine roof, nave, triforium and about 70 medieval wall paintings. It is gradually recovering from a punitive Victorian “restoration” of 1858 -  long may it add lustre to the rather neglected Border-lands of England!


Hexham Abbey

 
Hexham interior

7.       Tewkesbury Abbey

Tewkesbury Abbey, by the Severn in Gloucestershire is one of the finest Norman (Romanesque) buildings in England. Durham Cathedral must take the palm as the finest, perhaps even in Europe, but Tewkesbury runs it a close second. Started in 1102, on a site with a long Saxon provenance, it was lavishly built by a henchman of William the Conqueror in Normandy Caen stone which was floated up the Severn. The floor-plan is typically French with a cluster of chevet chapels at the East end and massive round columns in the nave. Somehow the main church survived the Dissolution more or less intact, after the removal of the monastic additions, as the locals bought it as their parish church from the Crown for the princely sum of 453 pounds in 1540.

The church has some fine stained glass and many tombs of its early benefactors, notably the Despencers and Clares. It even survives with aplomb ever more frequent nearby river flooding.



Tewkesbury Abbey surrounded by flood-water in 2007

 



            Tewkesbury’s decorated ceiling

       8.  Burford

The bustling little Cotswold town of Burford is in Oxfordshire very close to the border with Gloucestershire. I lived nearby for 7 years and always admired the church, for its situation, turbulent history and stunning monuments.


                St John the Baptist, Burford

The church is at the bottom of the long and steepish high street and nestles cosily beside the River Windrush. Developed in the 15th century, it now incorporates the guild chapel richly decorated by the local burgesses. Important gentry have their tombs here, notably the unpopular Tanfields, who erected their intrusive, but admired, Italianate monument in the 1620s without the permission of clergy or congregation. During the Civil War in 1649 a band of mutinous Levellers occupied the church but forces loyal to Cromwell and Fairfax arrested them and 3 were executed on the spot. Neglected in the 18th century, the church was “improved” by G E Street and his tiled floor so dismayed William Morris, he forthwith set up the Society for the Protection of Ancient Buildings! All is serenity now, and amid Georgian chest tombs and gracious swans, you can happily wander around this lovely place.

9.       Bath Abbey 



Bath Abbey

Bath was originally the Roman town Aquae Sulis and was renowned for its thermal springs and public baths. But the Romans left Britain in 409 AD and Bath was not mentioned in official documents until 757. It slowly re-emerged and in 973 it hosted the coronation of King Edgar and in 980 a Benedictine monastery was built. A new building replaced it in 1499 but after the Dissolution it fell into ruin and was given to Bath city for a parish church in 1560. The restoration was completed in 1620. As Bath became a resort for the fashionable, it was remodelled by George Manners in 1833 and George Gilbert Scott added the stone vault in 1863 with striking fan vaulting making the Abbey extremely pretty and playful – somehow mirroring the carefree spirit of the city.

      


            The astonishing fan vault at Bath Abbey 

10     Beverley Minster

The East Riding of Yorkshire is not overtly glamorous, even though the fine churches of Hedon and Patrington feature, but turn South and you come to the town of Beverley. The first, unexpected view of Beverley Minster hits you between the eyes, rather like the first view of Lincoln Cathedral. The building we see was built in only a few decades and completed in 1225. It replaced an earlier structure which housed the relics of St John of Beverley, an 8th century bishop of York who had been recently canonised. It contained a shrine and became a place of pilgrimage, a nice little earner for the medieval Church, which partly explains why this huge building was not elevated to cathedral status. Later it became a centre of the chantry chapel racket, a medieval con involving rich donors leaving endowments for clergy to pray for their living and dead souls. The Protestant reformers found that Beverley had 77 such clergy and promptly reduced them to 4!


Beverley Minster

 

                                                                The Gothic Percy tomb

The Minster was never a monastery but was run as a collegiate church by a group of secular canons. Its building limestone came from near Tadcaster and was floated up in barges from the Humber estuary. Externally the two tall slender towers at the West end are Perpendicular perfection, beautifully proportioned. Internally Beverley has everything you might wish – stone vaulting, stiff-leaf carving, Purbeck marble columns, the lovely canopied Gothic tomb of Lady Eleanor Percy, wood-carved stalls in the chancel and 68 16th century misericords. The Minster is perfection with an artistic integrity which you leave with sublime gratitude.

My selection has concentrated on large churches most of which were originally built for greater things than to be a parish church. I salute the Anglican Church for being their custodian and recommend them all as bearers of the glory of civilisation.

SMD

1.07.22

Text Copyright © Sidney Donald 2022