The Incredible Story of How the National Trust Came to Formby and How a Packed Meeting, £20,000 and One Determined Man Changed Formby Forever
- 2 days ago
- 6 min read

Today, thousands of people walk through the pinewoods at Victoria Road, watch red squirrels leap between the trees and make their way over the dunes to one of the most beautiful stretches of coastline in Britain.
It feels as though the National Trust has always been part of Formby.
But it has not.
The National Trust only arrived at Formby Point in 1967, and the story of how it happened includes a national rescue campaign, an urgent race to raise £20,000, a council chamber packed beyond capacity and a remarkable promise that the people of Formby would never be shut out.
It is one of the most important chapters in the history of our town.
The story began with a growing fear that some of Britain’s finest coastline could be lost forever.
By the 1960s, development was spreading rapidly across the country and there were serious concerns about what might happen to beaches, cliffs, dunes and open land if they were not protected.
The National Trust responded by launching a major fundraising campaign called Enterprise Neptune.
Its aim was to buy threatened stretches of coastline and preserve them for future generations.
The campaign eventually helped the National Trust acquire hundreds of miles of beaches, bays, estuaries and cliffs across England, Wales and Northern Ireland.
Formby Point was one of the places identified as being too important to lose.
At the time, the National Trust described Formby as the nearest piece of natural coastline for around six million people living on this side of the Pennines.
That alone shows just how significant Formby Point was considered to be.
However, bringing the National Trust to Formby was not as simple as signing a piece of paper.
There were meetings, negotiations, public discussions and a major fundraising challenge.
The National Trust needed to raise £20,000 through Enterprise Neptune to buy the northern section of Formby’s shore and sandhills around Victoria Road.
That was an enormous amount of money in the 1960s.
Formby Urban District Council contributed £3,000 and Liverpool Corporation provided an incredible £9,000.
By the time the campaign was gathering momentum, £16,000 had already been secured and there was growing confidence that the full amount would be raised before the deadline.
The National Trust’s regional organiser was a man called C H D Acland, although almost everyone knew him as Cubby. Cubby Acland was not simply an official sent to negotiate a land purchase. He was energetic, persuasive, practical and clearly determined to win the confidence of Formby residents.
He later became known for creating Stagshaw Garden near Ambleside, transforming the land around his cottage into a beautiful woodland garden filled with winding paths, shrubs and unusual plants.
In Formby, however, his task was far bigger.
He had to convince local people that the National Trust could protect the coastline while still allowing families to enjoy it.
The most dramatic moment came in late October 1966.
The Formby Society, which later became Formby Civic Society, organised a public meeting to discuss the future of the shore and sandhills.

The meeting was chaired by D A Crighton and was held inside the Council Chamber.
The response from the public was extraordinary.
According to the Formby Times, every seat in the chamber was taken. More chairs were brought in from nearby rooms, but even that was not enough. People sat on table tops. They stood in every available inch of space. Others spilled out onto the landing and down the stairs outside the chamber.
The meeting lasted for two and a half hours.
This was not a carefully controlled presentation where residents were expected to sit quietly and listen.
It was intended to give people the opportunity to ask questions, challenge the proposals and hear directly from those involved.
By the end of the evening, the verdict from the people of Formby was unmistakable.
“National Trust, yes. County Council, no.”
Residents wanted the National Trust to take responsibility for the future of Formby’s shore.
There were also calls for Lancashire County Council to build a new access road from the bypass directly to the coast and to take urgent action over erosion.
The strength of feeling was so clear that the newspaper reported that the county council should leave the future of the shore in the hands of the National Trust.
One of the key moments came when Cubby Acland produced a series of slides showing how the Trust managed other coastal sites across the country.
There was no PowerPoint in 1966.
Instead, residents sat in the packed chamber watching photographs projected onto a screen while Cubby explained what the National Trust could do for Formby.
His presentation was described as imaginative and subtle and it appears to have won over almost everyone in the room.
The question many people began asking was not simply whether the National Trust should take over part of Formby shore.
It was why the Trust could not take over all of it.
More than fifty years later, that wish has largely become reality.
In April 1967, it was officially announced that around half of the Formby shore area had been taken over by the National Trust.
It was the first Enterprise Neptune purchase in North West England.
The National Trust’s association with Victoria Road had begun.
The announcement was a major moment, but Cubby Acland knew there were still concerns.
Would local residents still be allowed into the woods?
Would families be charged simply to visit?
Would dogs be banned?
Would the area become restricted and inaccessible?
Cubby gave the people of Formby a direct and memorable promise.
“I promise that the dog and the family will never be excluded.”
He also said that the Trust intended to provide complete public access for the people of Formby.
That promise mattered because the woods and shoreline had already become part of local life.
The National Trust was not coming to Formby to lock the gates.
It was coming to preserve the land while allowing people to continue enjoying it.
There would, however, be changes.
Cubby made it clear that litter, noise, damage and other forms of abuse would not be tolerated.
Vehicles would no longer be allowed to drive freely on the foreshore.
Commercial sand removal would also be stopped.
When Cubby was asked what the National Trust intended to do about coastal erosion, he gave an answer that showed both his humour and his realism.
“You’re joking. The Trust is no multi millionaire.”
He explained that the National Trust would plant marram grass and trees rather than attempt to build miles of concrete defences.
It was an early commitment to working with nature instead of trying to overpower it.
That approach remains central to the management of Formby’s changing coastline today.
Visitors arriving by car would have to pay towards the upkeep of Formby Point.
The original charge was two shillings and sixpence per vehicle.

A season ticket cost £1 and ten shillings.
Wardens would patrol the property, help the public and enforce the rules.
However, anyone imagining stern officials in formal uniforms would be mistaken.
The first wardens wore armbands rather than peaked caps.
The first two people appointed locally were Arthur Brown and George Neal.
They became part of the early story of the National Trust in Formby, working directly with visitors while helping to protect an increasingly popular and fragile landscape.
Volunteers were also encouraged to become involved.
Local people helped with tree control, planting and conservation work.
Formby Civic Society continued to support the new venture and played an important part in documenting the history of those early years.
The remarkable thing is that many of the challenges discussed in 1966 are still familiar today.
Visitor numbers.
Traffic.
Parking.
Erosion.
Protecting wildlife.
Keeping access open.
Managing one of the most dynamic stretches of coastline in the country.
The methods and facilities may have changed, but the central question remains the same.
How do we allow millions of people to enjoy Formby while protecting it for generations still to come?
In 2017, exactly fifty years after the National Trust first arrived, its role expanded dramatically when it took over responsibility for managing a further 204 hectares of coastal land from Sefton Council.
It was an extraordinary moment.
At the packed public meeting in 1966, residents had asked why the National Trust could not take over all of Formby shore.
Half a century later, much of what those residents had hoped for had finally happened.
Today, when we drive down Victoria Road and enter the pinewoods, it is easy to take everything around us for granted.
The red squirrels.
The trees.
The dunes.
The paths to the beach.
The freedom to walk, explore and enjoy the landscape.
But none of it simply happened.
It happened because local people cared enough to fill a council chamber until there was no room left.
It happened because councils and communities helped raise an extraordinary amount of money.
It happened because volunteers gave their time.
It happened because campaigners believed Formby Point was too precious to risk losing.
And it happened because one determined man stood before a packed room and promised that the dog and the family would never be excluded.
Nearly sixty years later, that promise still echoes through the woods at Victoria Road.
Research and historical information originally provided by John Phillips and Formby Civic Society.





















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One or two inaccuracies here. George Neal was not a Warden. He was the NT's Local Administrator (he was a retired bank manager). The first NT full time employed staff were Arthur Brown (Chief Warden) and Dan Postlethwaite (Warden). Arthur and Dan had been employed by the previous owners of the land, Ince Blundell Estates as Chief Ranger and Ranger respectively.
I was a part time paid Ranger for Ince Blundell Estates and also transferred to the NT. Arthur Brown had lived at Golf Cottage (north of Fisherman's Path) with his wife Eve for many years. Alas, on morning of the 8th February 1968, Arthur and Eve died when they were travelling across the unmanned crossing at Fisherman's Path in…