Writing in 1943, Charles Fry looked back with satisfaction on the decision taken in the 1930s by the publishing firm of B. T. Batsford to switch production from the lavish books on culture and landscape that had made its late-Victorian reputation to a new range of inexpensive volumes aimed at widening public awareness of the natural and man-made environment of Britain. ‘I think we can honestly say’, he reflected, ‘that in presenting these cheap books to the public we performed an important service in revealing the immense wealth of its heritage and in stimulating appreciation which, in time, leads to preservation and respect.’ At a time when, as David Matless notes, domestic tourism was rising in popularity and it was feared that motorists in search of unspoilt rural idylls would destroy those very idylls even as they sought them out, Fry remained convinced that Batsford's two series of books – British Heritage and The Face of Britain – offered a 1930s readership not only the opportunity to learn more about the country and the inspiration to go and see its riches for themselves, but also an underlying reminder of the need, through enjoyment of Britain's heritage, to assume responsibility for its preservation too.

Heritage in peacetime

Rather than target the upper reaches of the book-buying market, the volumes in British Heritage and The Face of Britain sold for 7s 6d each, giving readers a richly illustrated series of guides to British life at a relatively cheap price. Indeed, Fry recalled that others in the publishing trade had concluded that, with the number of photographs in each volume, the low price would prove as unsustainable a business model as the country villages they celebrated, but he noted with satisfaction how wrong those assumptions were. Having risked a 10,000-book initial print run for each title, he could report in 1943 that almost all volumes had sold their initial printings and that several were already in fourth or fifth editions.

Looking at these books today, it is easy to see why they were successful. Catherine Brace argues that Batsford's output ‘naturalised a version of rural England in which timelessness and continuity were powerful recurring motifs’ (p. 367).