With permission, Mr. Speaker, I would like to make a short business statement. Following tributes to the right hon. Sir Edward Heath, the House will adjourn. The business for the remainder of the week will now be as follows:

Tuesday 19 July—Second Reading of the Crossrail Bill.

Wednesday 20 July—Motion to approve the draft Council Tax Limitation (England) (Maximum Amounts) Order 2005, followed by remaining stages of the Regulation of Financial Services (Land Transactions) Bill, in turn followed by a motion on the summer recess Adjournment.

Thursday 21 July—Second Reading of the London Olympics Bill.

I thank the Leader of the House for that statement and for making changes to this week's business so that the House today can remember a distinguished Member of more than 50 years' standing and a distinguished former Prime Minister of this country.

I call Mr. Heath. [Laughter.]

No relation, but indeed a distinguished Member of the House.

May I ask the Leader of the House a brief question? He has obviously introduced new business for Wednesday this week. Given that a number of Back Benchers may want to speak on both the motion to approve the draft Council Tax Limitation (England) (Maximum Amounts) Order 2005 and the motion on the summer recess Adjournment, will he consider setting aside time for debate for both items of business?

I am sure that that can be arranged through the usual channels.

I beg to move, That this House do now adjourn.

Sir Edward Heath died yesterday after a long illness. I am sure that the whole House would like to join me in thanking the team of carers from Oxley Care who looked after him in the last few years. I know how grateful Ted was to them.

There have been many handsome and well-merited tributes to Ted Heath as a Prime Minister, as a Member of this House for more than 50 years and Father of it, and as a man of vision, principle and integrity. He was quintessentially his own man. He made up his own mind and having done so, he was unshakable. But Ted Heath would have recognised, and have been proud, that it was his momentous decision to take Britain into the Common Market that would dominate the hundreds of thousands of words written and spoken about him today. He might have been Prime Minister for less than four years, but few holders of this office have made such a lasting difference to this country, its direction and its place in the world.

Ted Heath's commitment to Europe, and his determination that Britain should be at its heart, was born of the horrors that he witnessed while fighting to liberate the continent from the evils of fascism. These wartime experiences, as they did for many of his generation, shaped him as a man and a politician. They made him determined to do all that he could to ensure that Europe was never again ripped apart by conflict.

Ted Heath could also certainly have claimed to have been the first modern Conservative leader. He came, as we know, from a relatively humble background in Broadstairs. He was a grammar school boy and through his own hard work and intelligence, he won a place at Oxford, where he became president of the union.

It was at Oxford that Ted Heath first showed he was prepared to be unpopular in defence of his political views, when he joined those in his party who opposed appeasement and supported the anti-Chamberlain cause in the famous Oxford by-election. He was also a supporter of the republican Government in Spain, a result of a visit during the Spanish civil war, where he witnessed first-hand the destruction caused by air attacks.

After distinguished military service in the Royal Artillery, he was elected Member of Parliament for Bexley in the 1950 general election. Reflecting his political passion for the next half century, his maiden speech was a plea for Britain not to stand aside from Europe, but to play its full role as an active partner. He was also a founder of the one nation Tory group, which he was to personify throughout his time in the Commons.

On coming to Parliament, Ted Heath's talents were quickly recognised, and within five years he was Chief Whip. He showed enormous skill in this post, helping to keep his party together during the difficult days of the Suez crisis, despite his own deep personal reservations. As Chief Whip, he also had a prominent role in the appointment of Harold Macmillan as Eden's successor. In return, Ted Heath was eventually promoted to the Cabinet, and soon after entrusted with the task of heading Britain's negotiations to join the Common Market. Between 1961 and 1963, he toured Europe's capitals ceaselessly, clocking up more than 100,000 miles trying to reach agreement. I understand that the main bone of contention was agricultural policy. Ted Heath very nearly achieved agreement, only to have President de Gaulle veto Britain's membership.

Interestingly, despite the intense and humiliating frustration of rejection by France, it never altered Ted Heath's view that Britain's future was in Europe. He saw correctly that de Gaulle's opposition was in fact a reason to proceed with membership, not to abandon it—that Britain had something unique and important to contribute to Europe. He also correctly recognised that the British alliance with the United States was stronger, not weaker, by dint of European membership.

Ted Heath's hard work and intelligence during the difficult negotiations greatly enhanced his stature within the Government and the country. Winston Churchill was among the many who wrote to him to congratulate him on his efforts. In Europe, he won the prestigious Charlemagne prize, which had a practical benefit, as he used the money to buy a Steinway grand piano, which was later to move into No. 10 with him.

Ted Heath's music and sailing were, of course, a big part of his life. I think it is safe to say, even with the many candidates now putting themselves forward on the Opposition Benches as potential successors, that he is likely to remain the only Tory leader to conduct at the Royal Albert hall and win the Sydney to Hobart yacht race during their time in the post.

Ted Heath's time as Opposition leader is perhaps best known for sacking Enoch Powell, a decision that required great political courage, and for appointing Margaret Thatcher to the shadow Cabinet. [Laughter.] His victory in the 1970 general election was against all the odds, but his premiership came at a difficult time for the country. He was beset by problems on the economy, on industrial relations and in Northern Ireland. He showed his integrity and leadership, however, when, despite the opposition of some in his party and outside it, he offered a safe haven to 60,000 Ugandan Asians threatened by Idi Amin, a decision from which our country greatly benefited.

Of course, the outstanding achievement of Ted Heath's time at No. 10 was in January 1973, when he took Britain into the European Economic Community. It was a political and a personal triumph for Ted Heath, but it was not enough, for a country hit by a three-day week, to save his Government. Three and a half years later, after entering No. 10, he called an early general election, but was narrowly defeated. Roy Jenkins often used to say that the tragedy was that Labour lost the election in 1970, which it should have won, and won the election in 1974, which it should have lost. Certainly, Ted would have agreed with the latter.

When Ted Heath lost again in October 1974, he found himself challenged by Margaret Thatcher for the Conservative leadership, and she won. For the next 26 years, he remained on the Back Benches, a familiar sight in this place. Throughout, he never flinched from arguing for the one-nation Toryism he believed in, or from putting passionately the case for Europe. Ted was very blunt in his manner, though once you got to know him he was very kind. I remember that I first met him at a parliamentary reception in the mid-1980s shortly after I became a Member of this House. He said, "Are you an MP?" "Yes", I said. "Which party?" "Labour", I said. "Well, you don't look like it or sound like it", he said. [Laughter.] "What's more", he said, "as an Opposition, you're bloody useless." He then proceeded with remarkable insight to tell me exactly what we should have been doing.

His trenchant criticism of his own party leadership must have been very irritating for them. Being myself, for obvious reasons, generally disposed towards party loyalty, I was never sure about it. As those of us who can recall him know, he was magnificent; he would fill the House. I can picture him now, standing below the Gangway, often speaking without a note, with humour, incisive argument and magisterial disdain for the opposing view—swatting away anyone ill-judged enough to make a hostile intervention. To quote again his old Balliol friend Roy Jenkins, he was a

"great lighthouse which stands there, flashing out beams of light, indifferent to the waves which beat against him."

That is indeed how he was: an extraordinary man, a great statesman, a Prime Minister our country can be proud of. We shall miss him.

I join the Prime Minister in paying tribute on behalf of Conservative Members to the memory of Sir Edward Heath, and also in paying tribute to those at Oxley Care who looked after him so devotedly in the last few years.

Ted Heath was one of the political giants of the 20th century. As Chief Whip during Suez, as a Cabinet Minister under Harold Macmillan and Alec Douglas-Home, and above all as the Prime Minister whose single-minded determination took us into the European Economic Community, he made an historic contribution to our country. He was the last leader of the Conservative party to have served in the second world war. In common with the rest of his generation, his whole outlook on life was shaped by that titanic conflict. Even before it began, he was aware of the dangers that lay ahead. As a young man, he heard Hitler address a Nuremberg rally, and he actually met Goering, Goebbels and Himmler, whom he described as

"The most evil man I've ever met".

In the famous 1938 Oxford by-election, Ted Heath opposed the Conservative candidate, Quintin Hogg, and campaigned instead for A. D. Lindsay, the master of Balliol, who stood on an anti-appeasement platform. After the war, he saw political integration in Europe as the best way to avoid a repeat of its horrors. That became the moving force of his political career, and as Prime Minister he succeeded where Macmillan had failed, by taking Britain into the Common Market. It was controversial when he did so—he needed the votes of Members of other parties to get the legislation through the House—and it has remained controversial ever since. But Ted never wavered in his attachment to the European dream. He was utterly and unswervingly consistent. His maiden speech in this House was in the debate on the Schuman plan; his final speech was dominated by the same issue.

Ted was less successful in achieving his other political objectives. Before the 1970 election, he outlined an exciting programme to revitalise the nation's economy based on a smaller state, lower taxes, less regulation and trade union reform. That platform, designed at the Selsdon Park hotel, provoked Labour into caricaturing his position. They depicted him as "Selsdon man" or a dangerous reactionary. Ted went through what every Conservative leader always faces in Opposition—the accusation just a few months before the election that they are lurching to the right. However, he won the 1970 election against the tide of expectation. It was a tribute to his determination to try to pursue the course that he believed to be right. His task was made much harder when Ian Macleod, his first choice as Chancellor and another political giant of the age, died tragically just weeks after the election. The problems of rampant inflation and overweening trade union power that were to dog his four years in office made him change course, and adopt instead policies that were unequal to the challenge. Yet many of the changes that he originally tried and failed to put in place were made 10 years later by his successor, Margaret Thatcher. The BBC's political editor said last night that Margaret Thatcher was a grocer's daughter in more senses than one. The fact that neither of them would perhaps welcome that thought made it no less appropriate.

After leaving office, Ted remained true to his character and continued to court controversy, especially in the Conservative party, but he did so more often mischievously than wilfully. He never lost his wit, even if it was displayed in ways not always likely to be appreciated by his successors. When speaking at the Conservative party conference in 1981, at the height of the first Thatcher Government's unpopularity, he advised the conference representatives:

"Please don't applaud—It may irritate your neighbour."

Whatever disagreements he had or manufactured, he was a Conservative all his life. He remained a remarkable House of Commons man, serving as a Member continuously for 51 years. He became Father of the House, and it was fitting that one of his final acts as a Member of Parliament was to preside in October 2000 over the election of a new Speaker—something that he clearly enjoyed hugely, and which showed him in his element. He lamented the declining influence of Parliament in holding the Executive to account—a trend which he noted had taken place under Governments of both parties, and a development that many of us, indeed, regret.

Ted was remarkable for the width and breadth of his outside interests and skills. How many leading politicians could have won the Sydney to Hobart race? How many Prime Ministers could have captained the British team to win the Admiral's cup? How many could have conducted world-class orchestras? He came from a humble background, and followed the then familiar route from grammar school to Oxford, but he never forgot his origins. Every year, Ted used to return to his home town of Broadstairs to conduct the Christmas carol concert. Music for him was not just a source of personal solace. It embodied the deeper harmonies which we, as human beings, live by. Because Ted was a private man, who did not wear his emotions on his sleeve, people often did not see his personal side, but we gain an occasional glimpse from his autobiography. His father, he wrote,

"was an excellent craftsman, and his work was greatly admired by all who saw it. The earliest examples that I can remember were the money boxes—mine of mahogany, my brother's of oak—which he made in order that we might collect our small savings in them. Each was inscribed with our name, and I still have my beautiful mahogany box in my study".

Today, we remember a Prime Minister who was a most distinguished parliamentarian, who was fearless in his views and rock-like in his integrity, and who always sought to serve his country to the very best of his ability. In this House we join together to mourn his passing.

Despite the sadness of the occasion, I think that Sir Edward would want the House, as both the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition have said, to remember his sense of optimism as well as his warmth and wit, and very often his wisdom. I think that the Prime Minister was right to mention on a couple of occasions Roy Jenkins. Sir Edward and Roy were two politicians whom I knew from afar. In Roy's case, I came to know him extremely well, and in Sir Edward's, somewhat. They shared so much throughout their different political careers that paralleled each other. They knew each other well, not least on the issue of Europe.

Many of us of a further generation have been motivated by and cared passionately about Europe. We look to a politician such as Sir Edward Heath and what he achieved. We look also at the present circumstances within the democratic Europe of today, including the difficulties that it is facing precisely because of democratic choices made in recent referendums in other countries. We must contrast these difficulties—which we hope are being reconciled peacefully through discussion—with the difficulties that motivated a previous generation, the members of which saw the differences within Europe being resolved only by bloodshed and war. That motivation for them and for the founding fathers that they looked to will, I hope, be one that motivates also the generation of European leaders today.

In many respects, as I have said, the careers of Sir Edward and Roy Jenkins ran in parallel, not only through Europe. They remained confidantes and colleagues as well as being competitors right to the end, when they went head to head in a final run-off for the chancellorship of Oxford university. After that final democratic contest between the two of them, Roy used to tell the story of Sir Edward inviting him to his marvellous house in Salisbury, next to the cathedral and proudly showing Roy round—just the two of them were having dinner together as elder statesmen.

At one point they ended up in the master bedroom. Sir Edward pointed out the view of the cathedral spire from the window. Roy being Roy said, "Ted, I think that this must be one of the 10 best bedroom views in England." There was silence. Then Sir Edward replied, "And what would be the other nine?"

Sir Edward, in that Denis Healey sense, had a hinterland as a politician and as a statesman. In his case it was a hinterland that can literally be described as oceanic in every sense. On a personal level, when the Conservatives went into Opposition and I found myself elected leader of my party, for a number of years I sat during Prime Minister's questions where my right hon. and learned Friend the Member for North-East Fife (Sir Menzies Campbell) now sits. Sir Edward sat where I am now standing. I have to share with the House something that for me summed him up. If there is a book to be published in future when perhaps none of us is in this place, it is the book of Sir Edward's running commentary in my right ear of the contributions in advance of my own during Prime Minister's questions, particularly his insightful running commentary of the contributions from the parliamentary Conservative party. One particular occasion comes to mind. The Prime Minister had just returned from a much-vaunted third-way summit involving Chancellor Schröder, President Clinton and Prime Minister Jospin. At the beginning of that week the French behaved in a completely unacceptable way. It was declared illegal in due course, and was very sensibly handled by the Prime Minister. It was a flouting of European law and a refusal to readmit British beef. The then leader of the Conservative party, the right hon. Member for Richmond, Yorks (Mr. Hague), was on to the issue like a shot at Prime Minister's questions. He had a cavalcade of questions and was making extremely good headway over this difficulty, understandably at the Government's expense. He finished with a great flourish, saying that it was so much for the Prime Minister's "much-vaunted third way", and that as far as his socialist friend Mr. Jospin was concerned, it was more a "case of two fingers."

The right hon. Gentleman sat down to great cheers and the waving of Order Papers from the more Euro-sceptical sections of the parliamentary Conservative party. At that point, sitting in the place now occupied by my right hon. and learned Friend the Member for North-East Fife, the sphinx sitting next to me moved imperceptively. He flicked a disapproving look, leaned over and said, "Such a vulgar little man." The House will adjourn today—I do not think it will divide on that proposition.

With regard to Sir Edward, both on a very human level and on a statesman-like level, he was a gifted man, a good man and a very great man. One cannot say of many politicians of whatever persuasion that they changed the course of history, but he did, and for the better. We miss him very much.

I may be the only Member of the House who shook Ted Heath's hand after the election of 1970. I had flown over from New York to celebrate a great Labour victory and I was sitting in my hotel a few yards from the Albany, where Ted Heath lived. As the newspapers of the time said, Ted had sailed into 10 Downing street.

Seeing all the crowds outside the Albany and being only a few yards away, I went down and stood among the crowds. As I stood there, finally they parted, a car came up, Ted Heath's hand jutted out of the window and I shook his hand. I covered my bets by going down to Transport house immediately to commiserate with Harold Wilson, who was there giving his kind thanks to our staff who, of course, were very respectful to him and gave him the kind of cheers that Ted Heath had received outside the Albany. Years later, at the Inter-Parliamentary Union, when I saw Ted Heath and said, "I had my picture taken with you on the day of your election," he looked at me and said, "It didn't do much good, did it?"

Later still, as an international lawyer, I represented Hermes, the tie company that makes the best of ties. I could recognise a Hermes tie a hundred yards away. I saw Ted Heath in the Smoking Room wearing a Hermes tie. I said to him, "Sir Edward"—we had more respect for him then—"You're wearing a Hermes tie. I am their lawyer." He looked at me and said, "I often wondered why they were so expensive."

As the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition said, Sir Edward was a fundamental European, on the basis of his war years. He made his first speech in 1950 on the European Coal and Steel Community, he tried to get us into the European Union, as it is now known, in 1963, and he took us in in 1973. One of the questions put to him by President Pompidou at the time was whether, if the United Kingdom joined the European Union, it would accept the common agricultural policy. Ted Heath gave that commitment of our country from that day and it still runs today.

We have heard much of Ted Heath being a House of Commons man. He was a Back Bencher, a Whip, a Minister and Prime Minister. When he retired from the front line of politics, he stayed in the House for the rest of the 51 years. He saw us through two speakerships—your own, Mr. Speaker, and Lady Boothroyd's—and when the time was up, he used the famous phrase of your predecessor. Time was indeed up. He did not go to the Lords.

I end by quoting a little poetry:

"He nothing common did or mean

Upon that memorable scene".

That scene was the House of Commons, which he graced for 51 years.

It is daunting to follow so many eloquent tributes to Sir Edward Heath, but not half as daunting as following him as the Member for Old Bexley and Sidcup. Those who knew Ted well would have expected him to be generous and helpful to his successor, and indeed he was. He gave me sound advice and a great deal of encouragement. I wondered whether, having served in the House for 51 years, in his later years he had become a little tired of it all and had slowed down. The average length of service for an MP is between eight and 10 years, so 51 years would give any reasonable person time to slow down a bit.

As I padded around the streets of Sidcup and Bexley village, I discovered that Ted was still an assiduous Member of Parliament. Although the House rightly pays tribute to his time as Prime Minister and his renown as an international statesman, the people of Old Bexley and Sidcup will remember a famous Member of Parliament, but one who took an enormous amount of time, patience and trouble over their concerns. They were often surprised when Ted dealt with their concerns personally rather than using a special adviser or assistant.

Not only did Ted do the normal jobs such as holding surgeries and visiting schools, but he was a great champion on local issues—for example, selective education still survives in the London borough of Bexley. Ted was, as the Prime Minister and the Leader of the Opposition said, a tremendous champion for selective education, having benefited from grammar school himself, and he fought tooth and nail to establish Bexley grammar school, where he is still revered.

Tributes have been paid to Ted's involvement in the European issue. He was clearly an unashamed Europhile, so naturally he thought that the channel tunnel was wonderful. Sadly for the residents of Sidcup, the proposed rail link went smack through the middle of his constituency, which resulted in a conflict between his avowed Europhile beliefs and his constituents' interests. He stuck by his constituency and helped his constituents fight for a more sensible route that damaged fewer homes. I have discovered that people had an enormous wealth of respect and affection for their Member of Parliament.

I have known Ted since I was 18, when I was northern area Young Conservative chairman. Our leader was my right hon. Friend the Member for Suffolk, Coastal (Mr. Gummer), who was young and dashing—he had a sports car and a trendy beard. Ted encouraged the Conservative party youth movement, and he used to have the Young Conservative officers round for dinner at No. 10 or lunch at Chequers, which was impressive. He also used to encourage young musicians and he enjoyed his sport. He will be remembered with affection not only in this House, but outside it.

Michael Brown, who is now a distinguished columnist in The Independent, is one former Member who will remember Ted with affection. He served in this House from 1979 to 1997, and he used to sit behind Ted when Ted sat in the seat that is currently occupied by the hon. Member for Bolsover (Mr. Skinner). He used to contribute vociferously and frequently to debates, and his comments made Ted more and more irritable. On the day that Michael Brown was appointed a Government Whip, he was wandering down the Library Corridor, when Ted came out of the Smoking Room—as a former Chief Whip, Ted had an enormous affection for the Whips Office. Michael expected Ted to amble by and ignore him, which he usually did, but on this occasion Ted turned around and said, "I see that they have managed to shut you up at last." By tradition, Government Whips cannot speak in this Chamber.

The party leaders and others have rightly paid tribute to Ted Heath the statesman but, for the people of Old Bexley and Sidcup, he was not only an extraordinarily able man, but a conscientious MP and, more importantly, a very good man.

My late constituent, Sir Edward Heath, was a very great Englishman. When, after just one year in this House, the Government Chief Whip asked me whether I would fulfil the unofficial role of Parliamentary Private Secretary to an ex-Prime Minister, which is traditional in our party, it led to several comments in the newspaper diaries. As has been said, it was an act of bravery, but I have never regretted taking up that challenge, because I learned that Sir Edward was not only a great Englishmen, but esteemed enormously throughout Europe and beyond as a man who was prepared to lay down his life for his beliefs. He fought against Nazism, he joined in the democratic battle, he challenged the establishment and he faced up to the realities of Britain and its economy in the 1970s. As my right hon. and learned Friend the Leader of the Opposition said, he was ahead of his time, but he achieved an enormous amount.

When Sir Edward asked me, his PPS, to find him a house, it seemed a little beyond the call of duty. Within a few weeks, however, I had found him a house in Salisbury close. When he came down to see that wonderful house, he looked around it without saying a word, and then we drove back to London. At about midnight, he phoned me and said, "I hope that they have not sold my house." He purchased the lease and then the freehold on "Arundells", and became a figure of great affection in Salisbury and south Wiltshire.

Anyone who doubts his capacity for being an ordinary human being should talk to anyone who ever worked for him in his private office—his constituency secretaries and his political staff, many of whom, including my hon. Friend the Member for West Worcestershire (Sir Michael Spicer), have gone on to do other things with great success and distinction. Sir Edward was held in very great affection by all those people. He inspired enormous loyalty. That is no surprise, given that he had been a distinguished musician used to holding an orchestra and a chorus together, as well as a distinguished soldier under fire.

During his distinguished political career, Sir Edward also managed to inspire loyalty among his dear constituents, as we heard from my hon. Friend the Member for Old Bexley and Sidcup (Derek Conway). Having travelled with Ted in the capitals of Europe in the 1980s and met, with him, some of the leaders of those countries, I know that he never for one moment forgot the importance of his constituents and why he was where he was. One evening in the château de Rambouillet, when we had been over to meet the President of France and were enjoying his hospitality, there was a sudden flurry and the French Justice Minister turned up. He had asked to see Ted because he was engaged in a prolonged correspondence with him about a constituent who had been arrested and thrown into prison in Paris for some reason. Ted had immediately taken the case up so, when he saw the President, he told him that he was most disturbed about it, and immediately the Justice Minister was dispatched to sort it out. Ted never forgot the importance of his constituents.

In Salisbury, where he lived for the past 20 years, he made a name for himself as the man who goes and talks to people. One will find 20 and more pubs in south Wiltshire where people will say, "That's where Ted sits", or, "That's where Ted used to come and have his malt." The enormous affection in which people in Salisbury hold him extends right across the political spectrum and the age spectrum. We should not forget the generosity with which he raised millions of pounds for Salisbury cathedral over the years to maintain that magnificent edifice, at the same time as restoring his own wonderful house.

Sir Edward Heath has made an enormous impression on a very large number of people in many walks of life. Many tributes have been paid to him today, and I merely add my own. He was a wonderful man who was proud of his country. He loved his Queen, our constitution and our way of life, for which he was prepared to lay down his life. Right to the end, he was shouting the odds for democracy in our country.

Yes, he had his difficulties with his successor as leader, and harsh words were expressed on all sides, but I pay tribute to my right hon. Friend Lady Thatcher for her warm tribute to him, about which he would no doubt be shrugging his shoulders.

I do not doubt that, when we think back on the life of Ted Heath, he will be seen not only as a very great Englishman, a great democrat and a great European, but a very warm human being. Let us not forget how proud he was of his house, the paintings, every bit of china and every photograph on the piano. Let us not forget how proud he was of his garden, as the greatest armchair gardener Salisbury has ever known, or that he was enormously proud to serve one with broad beans out of his precious garden, where he knew every plant, tree and shrub.

Ted Heath was a great Prime Minister and a great member of the Conservative party. He was always loyal to our party and never voted against it in all his years, even though he may have sometimes had his disagreements with our leadership. We are very grateful for the life of Sir Edward Heath and, in Salisbury, we will remember him for a very long time as a great moonraker who was formerly a man of Kent but adopted with love in the county of Wiltshire.

Ted Heath had a huge influence on my personal life of which I do not think that he was ever aware in his lifetime. I arrived on 18 January 1974, hardly speaking any English, during the three-day week, and I learned all my English and understanding of the British political system by asking awkward questions such as "Why do they call him, 'The Grocer'?", "What is a Tory?", and "How does the electoral system work?". It was because he brought this country into the European Union and signed the European Communities legislation that I was able to come here to live and work and enjoy the four freedoms. He left a huge legacy and is hugely respected on mainland Europe.

I make one brief observation. When our current Prime Minister was awarded the Charlemagne prize, I went over to Aix-la-Chapelle, and Edward Heath was there as one of the honoured guests who are there on every occasion and greatly revered. The people of Aachen, as I like to call it, were always extremely proud of the fact that they spotted him as one to watch when he was a young Back Bencher and not recognised in terms of promotion. As, in this case, the second British Prime Minister was receiving the Charlemagne prize, their only regret was that they did not spot his talent as early as they did the previous recipient's. The commitment to Europe is great, but I hope that, while the next generation might be different, it will be recognised that many in my generation, such as me, have benefited and become Europeans through their life experiences, and I pay tribute to Sir Edward Heath for that.

I think that I owe more to Ted Heath than anyone else in the House because he did for me what he was unable to do for himself—he found me a wife. His quality as a friend—a friendship which began when he was my neighbour as a candidate in Greenwich and continued when I became Member of Parliament for Lewisham, West—was remarkable. It was hard for those who found him difficult because he did not know them, and who found him shy because he was, to know how warm he was, and how far he would go to help those who were young. His commitment to the young continued right to the end of his life. I happened to talk to someone this afternoon who remarked that as a 20-year-old he met Ted Heath at a function, they began to talk, and half an hour later they were still talking, and Ted was still fascinating and still wanted to learn from and hear as well as talk to a young person. He had that quality throughout his life. His friendship and the warmth of his character came through to those who knew him well.

For my generation, Ted represents something particular and special. He was never prepared to allow people to be bullied. He would not have the bullying that came from the natural hegemony of the Ulster Unionists. Nor would he have the bullying that came from those who thought that they could use the bomb and the bullet. He would not accept that we should have a society in which any section should be able to control the rest, as he felt that the trade unions, in their more militant guise, were seeking to do. He did not want there to be the kind of society in which people such as him could not progress to the top, and he never had a chip on his shoulder about it—he was enormously grateful that he lived in a society in which what he did was possible. That is a lesson, if I may say so, for many others—no chip on the shoulder but simply a recognition that this was that kind of society.

Ted was also clear that nobody should bully people because of the colour of their skin. The immediate and absolute action that he took about the speech by Enoch Powell was a pivotal moment, as was his acceptance, to which the Prime Minister rightly pointed, of those east African Asians who fled the tyranny of Idi Amin.

At all points in his life, Ted stood up for those who could not stand up for themselves. He saw that as a natural part of being a one-nation Conservative. Those of us who hold that view of society have an enormous amount to thank him for.

Of course history will think of Ted Heath, and so should we, as the man who understood that it was patriotic to see Britain at the centre of the European Union, as part and parcel of a movement that could ensure that the nations of Europe would find their future together—as nations, but together—rather than in the destruction of each other in the absence of a mechanism to solve the problems that inevitably existed between them. He was consistent in that view, and was saddened by people's failure to see that the real idealism was not what we in Britain could get out of the European Union, but what we could contribute to it. That is what he understood: that a Europe without Britain would lose so much. It was that way round. That is how he always saw our membership of the European Community, and subsequently of the European Union.

As for those who knew Ted personally, it will be for warmth, laughter and above all kindness that we will remember him. Of course he was a great House of Commons man. There were the side comments, and the remarkable ability to be tougher, sharper and more difficult than almost anyone I have ever known. All that will be remembered and retold again and again; but for those who knew him, the one word "kindness" will come through all the time. No one who knew him will forget that.

In the 1960s, when I came to the House not knowing Edward Heath at all well, I found a man who was easier to respect than to like. I found it difficult to identify the warm, humorous man described to me continually by my long-term pair Terence Higgins—although later, thankfully, I came to see those qualities.

We talk today of the enormous stature that Edward Heath achieved, but we look back and realise that, remarkably, he achieved that in one of the shortest premierships since the war. That brief period was marked by a surprise victory, and ended with a surprise defeat; but in between, he made a decision of monumental importance to this country, which showed the tremendous character of the man and the fact that he was willing to take any risk with his own career to do what he thought was right for the country.

A measure of the man was that having lost the two 1974 elections and having then been deprived of a leadership that he felt was his, he did not flee up the Corridor. He did not go to the House of Lords for a comfortable, quiet existence. He chose to spend a further quarter of a century as a Back Bencher in the House of Commons. That is how much he loved this House. I think he took almost as much pride in becoming Father of the House towards the end of his career as he took in securing the leadership of his party.

In his final speech, Ted Heath urged us to protect the rights and also the standing of the House of Commons. He was to the end a House of Commons man, and I am sure that that is how he would have been happy to be remembered. I think we want to remember him for more than that, however. I think we want to remember a man of unshakeable integrity, which is the quality that the House admires most.

The Father of the House, the right hon. Member for Swansea, West (Mr. Williams), spoke of the period during which Ted Heath was Prime Minister. I came to the House during that period, and I am the only current Member of Parliament to have done so. The two events were not unconnected. Ted Heath's Government was growing in unpopularity when I won a by-election, although that was not because of Europe. Indeed, I do not suppose that I would have won the by-election if that had been the reason, for we had supported him unflinchingly against fervent opposition from much of the Labour party during that time. Shortly afterwards came the February 1974 election. But like most of us who were not members of his party, I got to know him much better later in my parliamentary life than in those early stages when he was the more distant figure of Prime Minister.

I echo the comments of other Members about Ted's kindness and courtesy. It was not that Ted always spoke to one; in fact, he was a man without much small talk, by which I mean that he did not say anything if he did not have anything to say—a principle that many of us should perhaps adopt in more circumstances. However, when he did have something to say, he said it with enormous wit and often with kindness. I experienced that kindness on a number of occasions when he was encouraging and helpful to me. I am sure that that was the experience of some Members in other parties who had the privilege of spending time in the House with him.

Ted Heath was a Prime Minister with whom I had one fundamental agreement and a number of less significant but politically important disagreements. The agreement was Europe, the disagreements were on a wide range of issues that made him a Conservative and me a Liberal Democrat, but I still remember with relish one experience before I came into the House: the occasion when he was seen leaving London sporting a red rosette in the middle of a general election while leading the Conservative party. A number of journalists pressed him on why that was so until he eventually said—some Members, including the hon. Member for Old Bexley and Sidcup (Derek Conway), will remember—"It is because I am going to the north-east." It was not because of any hope of improving the still unimproved Conservative fortunes in the north-east. It was because, in those days, the Conservatives fought the north-east in red, the Liberals in blue and Labour in green.

Reference has been made to the contribution that Sir Edward made in Northern Ireland. During his time as Prime Minister, we had some of the most difficult years of what have become known as the troubles, particularly the early 1970s. We had the largest loss of life in 1972, while he was Prime Minister. While we on this Bench would have had our differences with Sir Edward, most notably over the Sunningdale agreement and entry into the European Economic Community, we recognise his contribution.

It has already been referred to that Sir Edward was a Prime Minister who did not believe that terrorism should succeed and, in Northern Ireland, he provided the Army to counter the activity in the early 1970s of the newly formed Provisional IRA. He was a statesman and that was obvious from his approach not only in Northern Ireland but on other issues. In dealing with the situation in Northern Ireland, he brought his experience of the second world war and his knowledge of the Army to bear in very difficult and trying times for the people not only of Northern Ireland but of the United Kingdom. We salute his courage in terms of the decisions that he had to make at that time in countering terrorism and in dealing with the threat that existed there and which sadly continues even to this day.

I would like on a personal level to pay tribute to Sir Edward as a Member of Parliament. He was the Father of the House when I was first elected to the House of Commons and one could see that he was greatly devoted to this House. As other right hon. and hon. Members have mentioned, he remained here to make his contribution long after he lost his position as Prime Minister. As a new MP, I held him as someone for whom there was great respect and admiration for the contribution that he made to the House. We will all mourn his passing as a great parliamentarian and statesman who undoubtedly left his mark on the United Kingdom.

Like my right hon. Friend the Member for Suffolk, Coastal (Mr. Gummer), I met Ted Heath early on in my political career. I was national chairman of the Federation of Conservative Students in 1968 when the students were rioting, and Sir Edward Boyle encouraged me to go to see the then Leader of the Opposition at Albany. I did so increasingly; I went once a month. One of the people who opened the door to his flat, who subsequently became Foreign Secretary, was Douglas Hurd, now Lord Hurd. He was very encouraging to me.

Ted Heath came to the national conference of the Federation of Conservative Students on a day that was not necessarily his best. He was in one of his more taciturn moods. Those colleagues who remember Ted in one of those moods know that it was quite hard work sometimes to keep the conversation going. Some 20 people were introduced to Ted, and he grumbled and grunted and I tried to animate the conversation. As he left—everyone had disappeared—he broke into a broad smile, shifted his shoulders in his typical way and said, "Hmm, not bad. I agreed with some of the views that you gave to these people. I must make use of you more often."

That was one of the more difficult periods, but I should point out that although Ted was unfailingly encouraging, he was also a hard taskmaster. I was lucky enough to sit on the policy committee between 1970 and 1974, which was chaired by Chris, now Lord, Patten. Ted showed great concern about the way in which policy had to shift in reaction to some very difficult events, such as the problems with the unions and with Rolls-Royce. He did not take those decisions easily. Those of us who argued their case within that committee—I, for my part, was a very lowly person—were nevertheless part of those discussions, which provided a real insight into, and showed concern for, the state of the nation. Moreover, as others have said, Ted had a deep understanding of the problems of unemployment. To some extent, unemployment is no longer a focus of political debate, but in the period 1970 to 1974, Ted, remembering the 1930s, took very seriously and was pained by the problems that he had to face.

I entered the House in 1987, and Ted always encouraged me. I have possibly been known as a pro-European, and I remember making what for me was a passionately pro-European speech, much to the irritation of one or two of my colleagues. As I passed Ted sitting in the Chamber, he nodded to me, so I sat down in the seat next to him. He said, "Hmm. Not really pro-European enough." But when I later became chairman of the European Movement, he was unfailingly supportive and was ready to make speeches and to go anywhere. He wanted to ensure that there were those of us who carried the torch for his insight—an insight into the importance of Britain's playing its part, with other European nations, in providing a structure to resolve crises that, in his earlier years, could be resolved only by terrible conflict.

Ted was a great man and he did have that hinterland. In a sense, it was an irony that he was taken more seriously ill after attending the Salzburg music festival. It was his interest in music that drove him forward. Those of us lucky enough to have visited his homes in London and Salisbury remember how central music was to his whole persona, to his wit and to his amazing stories about the people whom he had met, particularly in China, which became a very important part of his life.

The Prime Minister mentioned something that illustrates Ted's political courage. Ted was an early member of the "One Nation" group, of which my late father-in-law, Lord Alport, was also a founder. What is sometimes forgotten is that Enoch Powell was a member of that group in the 1950s; indeed, he was its secretary. Many years later, in the 1960s, when Ted dismissed Enoch Powell from the Tory party, it was an old friend whom he was dismissing, which made that decision even more remarkably courageous.

Ted was a man of principle. He had views, based on decency and one-nation politics, that many of us in the Tory party still hold. He was a great statesman, a great Member of this House and a great individual. I shall miss him a lot.

I just want to offer a very brief postscript to the excellent tributes from the Prime Minister, my right hon. Friend the Member for Ross, Skye and Lochaber (Mr. Kennedy) and the leader of the Tory party. I want to pay testimony to the work that Sir Edward did for constituents during my time in this House, and not just in the normal way. He also worked to ensure that on issues affecting south-east London, colleagues from across the parties did what they were meant to do, and that they did it together in order to be more effective. He ensured that we worked together courteously, effectively and efficiently, and in doing so he sometimes provided great hospitality. I remember, for example, being given a very luxurious breakfast at his flat as we discussed a complex constituency case.

In 1974—the year the hon. Member for Birmingham, Edgbaston (Ms Stuart) came to Britain—I, along with some 11 other Britons, went, through a bursary, to the College of Europe, in Bruges. We arrived there as British students to find that Britain was hugely enhanced by what Edward Heath had done as Prime Minister. The status of Britain had been changed in the eyes of our European peers. That generation of students saw Britain differently.

When we were doing post-graduate European studies and Edward Heath was defeated for the leadership, it came as a shock to our colleagues. They were shocked that a European statesman could have been moved out of his position as leader of the Tory party. I want to pay tribute, above all, to the enhanced reputation that he gave Britain in Europe in the 1970s. He was truly a European statesman then; he has remained a European statesman; and I am sure that he will always be remembered as a European statesman.

I would like to associate my party, Plaid Cymru, and the Scottish National party with the many tributes paid to Sir Edward Heath in this place and earlier today. It is a daunting task, given that he entered this place before I was born—and by some stretch. In fact, his career would be remarkable if only for its longevity: he spent 51 years in this place as a Member and Prime Minister. That is almost unique and is exceeded by few: I can think of my predecessor Member but two for Caernarfon, David Lloyd George—and it is right to mention those two in the same breath.

Sir Edward Heath's career was remarkable, of course, for many things other than its length. His hinterland beyond politics was his great interest in sailing and music, but his career will stand in history because of his achievement in taking the United Kingdom into the European Economic Community and his other achievements arising from his personal commitment, his determination and his political skill. We on this Bench salute him.

I certainly wish to associate myself with all the generous tributes given by right hon. and hon. Members today. Speaking as someone who had the great privilege of working for Sir Edward for three years as head of his private office, I would point out that there is one aspect that has not been mentioned today or in the tributes in the national media.

There is much I could say about his courage, which I saw, at first hand, between 1980 and 1982 when I worked for him. For example, there was his courage in warning South Africa of the dangers of apartheid and also his courageous role in conveying to the British Government the basis on which the Chinese were prepared to settle the future of Hong Kong. I was there. After his comments on apartheid, we were bundled out of South Africa and I was there in the Great Hall of the People with Deng Xiaoping, when he revealed his plans to Sir Edward. Margaret Thatcher chose not to believe that the Chinese could use Sir Edward as a vehicle for communication and negotiations were stalled for some years as a result.

I was also with him at the time of the publication of "North-South: A Programme for Survival", better known as the Brandt report. I accompanied Sir Edward—or "EH" as his staff were privileged to call him—on many of his UK tours to raise awareness of the importance of tackling world poverty. In his later years, that became a cause that was every bit as important to him as membership of the European Union. His dedication to it, long before it was as fashionable as it is today, is something that should be remembered and honoured. Making poverty history was his objective long before the phrase was coined. This loyal member of his staff will miss him greatly.

As a yachtsman, I am embarrassed to say that my membership of the Tory party owes as much to Sir Edward's yachting ability as anything else. The fact that a Leader of the Opposition could take a yacht half the way around the world and win the Sydney-Hobart race—one of the great ocean classics—won my admiration and that of a generation. Sponsored by Sir Max Aitken, it remains one of the great sporting feats to this day and it irritated the hell out of Harold Wilson! It did not end there. As Prime Minister and on Morning Cloud, he won the greatest trophy of them all, the Admiral's cup, captaining the English team into the bargain. He continued with yachting success for many years, which showed his talents to the full. He did it because it refreshed his mind. He once said, "You cannot raise a yacht and worry about something else at the same time".

Ted knew that he was good. On one occasion in Cowes, my wife sat next to him at dinner—it was her turn—and asked him how he managed to be an accomplished musician, Prime Minister and a winning yachtsman all at the same time. He paused briefly and said: "Pure brilliance". The flags in Cowes will be at half mast today.

Before I put the Question, I would like to pay my own tribute to Sir Edward. As Father of the House, he was always very kind and supportive to me and to Mary, my wife. In recent years, he was a very welcome visitor to Speaker's House and I greatly appreciated his advice. I well remember his masterful and informative speeches on Europe, when I was a Back Bencher. I was always aware that I was in the presence of a man who had volunteered to serve his country when it faced the dangers of fascism. He will be missed by this House.

Question put and agreed to.

Adjourned accordingly at twenty-five minutes to Five o'clock.