"ANCIENT LIGHTS."

Auckland Star, Volume LX, Issue 242, 12 October 1929, Page 1 (Supplement)

"ANCIENT LIGHTS."

OLD RIGHTS IN ENGLAND. PRESERVING COUNTRYSIDE. WAR AGAINST "BUNGALOIDS." (By NBLLE M. SCANLAN".) Against the high wall of a dwelling in the very heaTt of Mayfair—a dwelling that looks over the. roofs of low buildings beside it—ln large, black letters are two significant words: "Ancient Lights." For a long time those words fascinated me. I watched for them every time I passed on top of a bus. All around great blocks of modern flats were rearing themselves six, seven and eight storeys, but the row beneath these haughty words seemed to be making a perpetual obeisance. They never raised their heads above one storey. The mystery became too much for me, so I decided to run it to earth. Nearly a hundred years ago, Lord Tenterdon, with foresight almost prophetic, must have seen the day when skyscrapers would block out both light and air from many a stately mansion; when the passion for size and the need for accommodation would menace the old peace and serenity of London s homes. It was in 1833 that he had the Act passed in the House of Commons, granting "Ancient Lights.". If for twenty years anyone has enjoyed light and air, a clear view and free space adjoining his dwelling, he can claim it in perpetuity under this law of Ancient Lights. He may barter this right, surrender it by agreement, but, once gone, it cannot be redeemed. It is also necessary in order to maintain its validity, to assert that right. It may not be necessary exactly to placard the well, "Ancient Lights," bnt that is a very effective way of motifying the world that it is no good casting envious eyes on the adjoining site, with a view to building a modern hotel. You may do so only if you can perform the miracle of erecting a ■building that will not prevent the full enjoyment of light and air by the ancient owner next door. At St. John's Wood, a whole row of dwellings have fallen into the hands of the housebreakers, and. a huge block of flats is growing in their place. But in the very centre stands a grey, old stone house, resolutely defying the advance of progress. Perhaps it was sentiment that caused him to refuse to sell! It may have been avarice; he was holding them up for a fancy price, deeming his plot essential for their scheme. It may have been plain pig-headeduess. But soon the little grey house will be hemmed in on three sides, and the only view wilL be towards the chill and sunless north. Now, if it had Ancient Lights, he could have defied them to shut him in. . Daily I watch the brick walls growing. lam afraid that he had not claimed this ancient privilege in due season. A Rose to the King. There are many old customs relating to property in England. I know a little right-of-way leading to Clapham. Station. This is private property, but for the convenience of the public the owner allows them to take the short cut. One day in the year a rope is stretched across the pathway. Theoretically it is closed, but for all practical purposes it is open as usual. In this way only can he retain his right of ownership. Yesterday I was reading a funny old lease, with a peppercorn rental —one peppercorn a year was the price paid for this tract of land. The property was entailed, and could not be sold. It was purely a nominal transaction.

Better still was the rent of the little gardener's cottage at "Overponds," near Gqdalniing, where Sir Phillip Gibbs, the novelist, lived a few years ago. He told me that when he was going through his lease he found that the rent of this cottage was 'One Red Rose a year to the King." It would be interesting to know what Royal Romance lay 55 behind that phrase. It gives a love-lilt to a musty deed, England has built her homes with faith in her future. Her bricks and stones have stood the centuries, and the quiet dignity of style has become part of the English Landscape. In the old feudal days, every little village belonged to the Feudal Lord—the Lord of the Manor —and clustered about his gates were the homes of the people who served him, who tilled his lands, and tended his flocks. There was unity in design. Today there are organisations banded together to defend these villages from the .modern encroachment of bungalows; to fight the epidemic of "Bungaloids" as they call it. As soon as a plot of land is offered for sale, it is immediately bought up by these valiant defenders. Protection of Beauty. ■ In some parts of England, in cities and towns no building can be erected without first having the plans passed by architectural authorities. The campaign against hideous hoardings has done much to clear the beautiful countryside of these eyesores. The sudden growth of motoring, with its consequent filling-stations every few miles, was the next menace. Crude, unsightly ( lines of petrol pumps were being erected on the outskirts of lovely old villages. They were like visual blasphemy in such places. Now enterprising newspapers are offering prizes for the most artistic filling-station, and once more organised effort is being directed against these ugly makeshifts. If petrol pumps they must have, well thev may as well be designed to fit into the* general scheme.

In order to open up the country, and divert through traffic from the bottlenecks of little village streets, miles of by-passes are, being constructed, keeping to the country, and avoiding settlements. Unlike the typical winding lane, so characteristic of England. »o picturesque but so impractical, these by-passes are straight and wide. The only straight roads in England are the old Roman roads, built over a thousand years ago. These by-passes are cut across new country. Enterprising speculators are taking up blocks of land, and starting new settlements along them. These are often bought and built upon without restraint or restriction. What these will mean to culture England is now recognised. There is an outcry against these uncontrolled buildings—-these "Bungaloids." There is a clamour for trees, even for protective strips of land on each side of the by-passes for beautification, so that England's charm may not bo impaired. England regards her beauty as a national heritage. It is a fine spirit, this national pride. If only the Dominions would learn that prevention is better than cure in these matters. It takes fifty years to grow a tree, and five minutes to cut it down. So much ugliness could be avoided if we took more care at the start.