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SIR ROY EXPLAINS THE REASONS
WHY HE CHOSE IRNHAM
Irnham in Lincolnshire comes as something of a surprise. This is a village
devoid of hall, shop, school and post office, all desirable assets in what
is defined as a thriving village. But are they really so essential to
vibrancy, and will they remain so? I wonder.
The inevitable role of the village in the 21st century will be a
combination of commuter dormitory, housing for the retired and second
homes for the urban affluent, together with a sprinkling of accommodation
for those who work locally. The social configuration is overwhelmingly
middle-class, and the question therefore to be asked is: can this
redefinition of the village create a new form of collective identity which
will cherish the past and evolve new forms of togetherness for the future?
In these terms, Irnham is a brilliant success, a village of a kind to
dream about, a picturesque vision of a world seemingly gone, yet, in this
instance, added to with impeccable taste and revivified in terms of
community sprit. The twin icons of the village are the great house and the
church. The former has been the seat of the Benton Jones baronets only
since 1901, and the old village passed into their hands 20 years later. In
the middle ages, Irnham Hall belonged to the Luttrells (now of Dunster)
and life both in it and the surrounding terrain is uniquely recorded in
the famous Luttrell Psalter. The huge, rambling Tudor mansion lies at the
heart of the village, its gardens welcoming to the visitor, and its
present owners committed both to the village and to its life. Until seven
years ago, Irnham remained an estate village with houses and almshouses in
grey stone spreading out from the manor-house gateway towards the church.
Twenty of the 50 houses that make up the village still belong to the
Benton Jones family. About 10 others, including the redundant post office,
school and teacher's house, are independent additions. Real change came
only seven years ago when 20 new houses were built, three of them barn
conversions, in natural Lincolnshire limestone on land sold off from the
estate. Sad, yes, but this was not a sell-out to ruthless developers;
under the aegis of the Benton Jones family, it is an essay in the
architectural vernacular of remarkable coherence and sensitivity sited
round a new village green. As no corners were cut, the result is an
enlarged and enhanced village-scape instead of the usual ruined one. But
to achieve that all the properties had to be at the upper end of the
market.
As one parish councillor remarked: "Irnham villagers always seem to get
what they want." Which brings me to the other icon of village life, the
church. And that, reflecting the plight of hundreds across the country,
was vulnerable. "Those villagers who don't attend church are still keen to
give towards its upkeep." And that, within the next few years, will be the
only way they will survive. No less than £250,000 was raised for its
restoration, with £50,000 coming by way of village events. The fête
held at the bottom of the spacious churchyard yields £1,000 to £1,300
annually. But the raising of the rest owed a great deal to the know-how of
a newcomer. The church within is stunning, beautifully lit and heated, a
space for a multiplicity of activities. This is as it should be - both a
place of worship and a village hall and also a venue for events.
There is a lively village pub, the Griffin, which is the setting for a new
annual event, a beer festival, now in its sixth year. This is an example
of how villages in the future will prosper and survive, for they are a
social and architectural formation for a structure of society which has
gone. Like the country house, the village has to adapt itself. In this
quest, Irnham deserves a medal.
NOTE: This article was published in
Country Life on Thursday 14th October 2004
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