How ‘town time forgot’ escaped modern development
With many visitors to Beverley commenting on how ‘well-preserved’ it is, Grace Newton explores how the East Yorkshire market town has saved its heritage.
VISITORS TO the East Yorkshire market town of Beverley often observe how well-preserved it is. Much of the town centre is pedestrianised, there’s no choking ring road or multi-storey car parks, and its cobbled market square and narrow streets remain peaceful and traffic-free.
Beverley has never had large traffic flows through its centre and banned vehicles completely from the main shopping streets as early as 1980.
Back in the 1990s, Independent journalist David Hewson – in Beverley to review the legendary pub Nellie’s – remarked: “I doubt if you will find another town in the North that has been so little touched by the ravages of the past three decades or has survived with such good grace.”
Much of its preservation for posterity owes itself to the commitment of several individuals who foresaw how cars were coming to dominate cities in the post-war years and were determined to spare Beverley the same fate. Two of them, former MP George Odey and town councillor Margaret Powell, made a particularly significant contribution.
Odey, the managing director of a local tannery, used his wealth to buy up medieval buildings at risk of demolition, while Powell, who died in 2014, was a one-woman crusade against detrimental development schemes. They were supported in 1961 by the formation of the Beverley Civic Society, with a mandate of protecting Beverley from urban road development. The decade saw so many rapacious proposals that Beverley’s very existence seemed in jeopardy.
These included the demolition of the medieval gateway North Bar, a planned new road which would have flattened historic buildings, and the widening of Hengate, which would have seen gas-lit pub Nellie’s, where beer was still served from a barrel, lost to history.
Dick Lidwell, a Civic Society member, arrived in Beverley in 1978, shortly before pedestrianisation was imposed on the town centre. “In the early 1960s cars were the theme – it was the age of the motorway and cars were meant to save the world. Market towns felt threatened.”
In Beverley, there was a proposal to turn the North Bar into a roundabout.
That was the catalyst for the Civic Society’s formation. People round here have a strong sense of identity. Lost gems include the Globe Inn, Hall Garth and the old Yorkshire Bank. Yet the 250 members of the group have fought and won many battles and the core of Beverley remains intact.
There are now five Conservation Areas, including the town centre, that are statutorily protected from adverse development. East Riding Council retains two conservation officers – a city the size of Bristol has just one – and there are 450 listed buildings.
Then there is the ‘unique’ Westwood, an area of pasture land first given to the town by the Archbishop of York in 1380, where the racecourse and golf club peacefully co-exist alongside livestock. While many towns have lost their commons, cattle grazing rights on the Westwood are enshrined in bylaws and it cannot be built on.
And although Beverley has successfully encouraged tourism and tapped into the events market, its programme focuses on classic and folk music, literature and Christmas – themes which have prevented over-commercialisation. However, Beverley’s civic guardians have concerns about the planned 3,000 new houses expected to be built by 2030.
“It’s a bit of a backwards step,” says Dick, “although it does bring people into Beverley which maintains the vitality. The local plan needs to be respected, but there is pressure from developers and the profit margins from being here are substantial.” Still, he says, there are no major “save” campaigns. “As Sir John Betjeman said, Beverley is a town for walking through, not driving lorries through!”