The Thornton Hall estate came into the possession of Thomas Sheppard after his marriage to the heiress Elizabeth Cotton in 1774. Sheppard considered the church of St Michael and All Angels, close to the hall, to be outdated and cluttered. As part of a major restoration he dismantled an ancient tomb, with the ornate side panels becoming features of a grotto in a sequestered spot in the gardens.

The church had been home to the ancient tomb of the Ingylton family, described in the 1755 county history of Buckinghamshire by Browne Willis as a ‘very handsome Altar Tomb of Stone’, for centuries. The tomb featured reliefs of Ingylton himself (he died in 1472) accompanied by his three wives, six sons and ten daughters.

In 1783 Sheppard (1741-1821) asked permission to demolish parts of the church and rebuild it in a ‘more regular and commodious’ manner. This he did out of a ‘pious and charitable disposition’, and at his own expense, with the ‘unanimous consent’ of the Rector and parishioners. A faculty was granted to allow the work to proceed. Sadly there is no mention of the tomb in the legal papers, and the plan shown to the Archdeacon does not seem to survive, but it would seem likely that the tomb was moved around the same date.

In 1801 it was recorded in The Gentleman’s Magazine that the church had been ‘repaired and beautified’ and was now a ‘neat uniform building’. In 1806 Daniel Lysons wrote in Magna Britannia that the church had been ‘neatly and commodiously fitted up’, but he thought that ‘the antiquary will regret the removal of the ancient monuments’.  At that date all that was left of the Ingylton tomb were the brass figures of Ingylton and his family that had decorated the top of the tomb. These were now set into the floor of the church, and Lysons thought that the ‘remarkably fine’ effigies would soon suffer wear.

Neither of these early histories records that the ornate carved slabs, which formed the sides of the tomb, had by that date been carted to a corner of his grounds where they became features of a building known as the ‘Grotto’.

Thornton Hall was remodelled by Sheppard’s descendants in the first years of the 1850s, and remained with the family until towards the end of that century. It passed through further owners until in 1917 it was purchased for use as a convent school for girls. On occasions Benediction was given from an altar in a shrine in ‘one of the loveliest settings’, but it is impossible to be certain that this was the grotto.

It was not until the later years of the 1940s that antiquarians from the Buckinghamshire Archaeological Society set out in search of the lost tomb. They had been alerted to its presence by Major Henry Owen Evans (1898-1966), an authority on monumental brasses. On Boxing Day 1945 he visited the church to see the brass from the Ingylton tomb and locate the ‘grotto’ where the rest of the tomb was reputed to be found.

Intrigued, the formidable Miss Cicely Baker (1900-1980), stalwart of the archaeological society, made her own arrangements to visit. Accompanied by one of the order, she and a friend waded though ‘yards of nettles’ to find the ‘summer-house’. Her bare-legged companion ‘suffered agonies in the name of archaeology’, whilst the nun simply strode through in her long habit.

The grotto was found to be ‘semi-ruinous’ and it was decided that the tomb must be returned to the church. Miss Baker was worried that ‘an army of Bishops’ would be required to gain permission, but things moved quickly and, with the Mother Superior at Thornton College amenable to the plan, the Bucks Archaeological Society launched an appeal for funds. Thanks to the Morris Fund of the Society of Antiquaries meeting the entire costs of around £70, the restoration was carried out under the superintendence of the archaeologist and writer E. Clive Rouse (1901-1997). By the end of 1948 the work was finished ‘with complete success and spectacular effect’.

With the ancient tomb the focus of their efforts, no-one seems to have been troubled by what might happen to the already deteriorating grotto, which was presumably further weakened by the removal of the carved slabs. The photograph at the top of the page accompanied an article in Follies, the magazine of the Folly Fellowship, more than thirty years ago in 1991. At that date the author, Tom Sargant, recorded that the grotto was ‘unloved and falling slowly into the bushes’. The roof of the semi-circular room at the back of the grotto, which was originally topped with a pinnacle ‘like a witch’s hat’ had collapsed (when Miss Baker visited she thought that this curious design was a sure sign that this was a folly, or ‘somebody’s whim’).

It is heartening to report that the grotto, protected within the grounds of the school, has not suffered from further degradation, and remains much as it did in 1991 – although action is needed to secure it for the future.

There is no public access to the grounds of Thornton College, but the church of St Michael and All Angels is now vested in the Churches Conservation Trust and can be visited.

Thanks to the team at Thornton College for their help with this post. The Flâneuse also acknowledges the work of the Milton Keynes Heritage Association, whose website pointed her in the right direction.

Your comments are always welcome, and you can get in touch via the comments box at the foot of the page. Thank you for reading.

Searching for an image of the Egyptian Spring, a garden ornament at Hartwell House in Buckinghamshire, the Folly Flâneuse found a picture postcard from the early years of the 20th century. But instead of the usual cheery message to a friend, the back of the card promised palatable prizes. So why was a folly being used to promote foodstuffs?

(Please indulge this brief diversion – we will return to the garden ornament in due course…)

Food manufacturers Symington’s were innovators in the field of customer promotions. As well as branded giveaways such as books of needles, thimbles and stamp books, the company produced picture postcards and asked shoppers to send them on to their friends.

The friend would then visit the grocer and ask for Symington’s ‘Table Delicacies’ in the hope of finding one of the yellow prize vouchers which were slipped into randomly selected products. The voucher entitled the holder to rewards such as a ‘box of samples’, or the latest cookery book. There were further rewards for those who recruited new customers via the postcard promotion.

The Folly Flâneuse was disappointed to discover that the campaign did not take follies as an overall theme, and the Egyptian Spring was possibly chosen for the marketing campaign because around the turn of the 19th century Symington’s claimed to be one of the first manufacturers to ‘promote the benefits of a healthy diet with their Egyptian food range’. The only other topographical card found to date featured a scene in Ceylon – presumably because Symington’s sold tea. Other cards had a more overt message:

After going off at that tasty tangent, we must get back to the garden ornament that started it all: the Egyptian Springs at Lower Hartwell.

It was commissioned by Dr John Lee (1783-1866) of Hartwell House as a garden ornament over a natural spring, and built in around 1850-1851 to a design by Joseph Bonomi junior (1796-1878)

Lee had a museum of Egyptian antiquities in the house and he had the well decorated with hieroglyphics, including a cartouche with characters that spell out (Queen) Victoria:

The building also had a Greek inscription, taken from Pindar’s First Pythian Ode, which translated as ‘Water, of all the elements is the best’. Early accounts of the Egyptian Springs suggest that this quotation was chosen because Lee was an advocate of temperance.

An account of 1912 states that inside the building there were carved lists of ‘celebrated men who were temperance reformers’. The author surmised that it was these unpopular temperance principles that led to the neglect of the temple after Lee’s death in 1866. By 1903, when the postcard below was sent, the building was looking pretty shabby.

By 1981 the building was described as looking ‘like a well-vandalized bus shelter’. Happily it was restored that same decade after Richard Broyd’s Historic House Hotels group rescued Hartwell House and turned it into a hotel. The spring and other garden features were restored under the supervision of architect Eric Throssel.

To end on a sweet note: Barbara Jones called the Egyptian Springs a ‘trifling curiosity’.

Although no longer in family ownership, Symington’s are still manufacturing today, so in return for this 21st century promotion the Folly Flâneuse awaits her box of ‘table delicacies’.

Hartwell House was given to the National Trust in 2008. The grounds are open to hotel guests only, but the Egyptian Springs can be found by continuing along the lane past the hotel entrance https://www.hartwell-house.com/

Please scroll down to the foot of the page to share any thoughts or comments. Thank you for reading.

The Folly Flâneuse celebrated her birthday this week, and what better way to mark the occasion than with an enormous cake? Although sadly, this one is not edible. As many of the buildings featured in these pages are gone, it was a real birthday treat to see this new folly, recently constructed to ornament the Waddesdon landscape.

The cake is the work of Joana Vasconcelos, a Portuguese-born sculptor, and was commissioned by Jacob, 4th Baron Rothschild for the Waddesdon Manor estate in Buckinghamshire. The pair had collaborated in 2012 when Vasconcelos showed her Pavillon de Thé at Waddesdon – a massive wrought iron teapot.

A few years later Vasconcelos created a work featuring a drink more commonly associated with the Rothschild family – two candlestick sculptures made from bottles of the famous Chateau Lafite.

This latest Vasconcelos commission is on an entirely different scale, and has been five years in the making. The Wedding Cake celebrates love and marriage, and also continues the Rothschild tradition of offering hospitality in exuberant spaces. 12 metres high, it is built around a steel frame, and clad with 25,000 Portuguese ceramic tiles which echo the colours of the famous Sèvres porcelain in the collection at Waddesdon Manor.

The finishing touch, or perhaps the icing on the cake, is when two people climb the final steps to emerge on the top tier, and the cleverly-composed scale of the building is revealed as they become the happy couple who top many a traditional wedding cake.

The Wedding Cake has been described as ‘first and foremost a temple to love’, but when asked if it was a folly Vasconcelos said “yes”, and writing in the Times Adam Davy called it ‘the latest architectural absurdity in the great British tradition of the garden folly’. Top marks for describing the structure go to the editor at the Financial Times who came up with the headline ‘The Gateau at the Chateau’.

You can see this conjugal confection for yourselves as the Wedding Cake is open to the public on Thursdays and selected Sundays https://waddesdon.org.uk/whats-on/wedding-cake-tours/

Visitors to Jupiter Artland, the sculpture park close to Edinburgh, may have seen the vibrant Vasconcelos swimming pool there, or indeed have taken the plunge as there are public sessions over the summer https://www.jupiterartland.org/gateway-bathing-sessions/

Thanks for reading. To share any thoughts please scroll down to the comments box at the bottom of the page (note that only your name will appear and your email address remains private).

The Folly Flâneuse is away (in search of follies of course), so until next week here is a brief look at the very pretty Music Temple at West Wycombe in Buckinghamshire, the seat of the Dashwood family.

The temple, also known as the Theatre, was designed by Nicholas Revett in the late 1770s, and sits on the largest of the three islands on the lake. Sir Francis Dashwood’s guests would have been rowed over to the island for fêtes champêtres of food, wine and music.

The Music Temple is just one of the many garden features added to the West Wycombe landscape in the eighteenth century. Some are lost, but others have been restored, or indeed rebuilt, by later generations of the family.

In 1943 Sir John Dashwood gifted West Wycombe to the National Trust, but the house remains home to the Dashwood family. The house and grounds reopen in the spring https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/west-wycombe-park-village-and-hill

There will be no lounging around for the Folly Flâneuse, who will be back next week.

APOLOGIES that there has been a glitch in the system and regular readers will receive two posts this week. If you have missed the other it is here https://thefollyflaneuse.com/bonds-folly-or-creech-grange-arch-dorset/

Close to the little village of Dinton, near Aylesbury, stands an imposing 18th century folly called Dinton Castle. 250 years after it was first built it shot to fame on the TV show Grand Designs. But to mark the 200th post on these pages, the Folly Flâneuse intends to enjoy a Dinton Folly of a very different kind.

In 2013 Laurie Kimber was pondering what to do with a field that he owned. Retired, and with time on his hands, he decided to plant a vineyard. He named his first sparkling wine Dinton Folly, partly in homage to nearby Dinton Castle, and partly as a ‘nod to the idea of taking on such a project later in life’.

Before the celebrations begin, perhaps a quick look at Dinton Castle. It was built by Sir John Vanhattem* (1724-1787) of Dinton Hall as an eye-catcher, banqueting house, and repository for his mineral collection. The foundation stone was laid in 1769, and there was great excitement amongst antiquarians when human remains and ancient artefacts were unearthed during the building works.

The folly was designed to look like a ruined castle from the outside, although there were rooms inside for picnics and parties. Sir John died in 1787 and the next generation did not share his interest in the folly. By 1796 it was falling into disrepair, with a visitor in that year noting the building ‘representing the remains of a castle, in w[hi]ch has been a room to entertain company’. Sadly the tourist concluded that ‘it is now fast becoming a real ruin’.

This decay continued, but what had become a romantic ruin attracted the attention of artists in the 20th century:

Edward McKnight Kauffer painted Dinton Castle for one of the large posters displayed on Shell’s fleet of petrol delivery lorries in the 1930s;  and John Piper painted it at the request of Roger White, Secretary of the Georgian Group, in 1985, and the work was then auctioned to raise funds for the heritage charity. Piper also produced a lithograph based on the painting. But not everyone found the folly so enchanting, and a photo taken for the National Monument Record in 1944 is annotated rather dismissively with the caption ‘a sham castle built to improve the view from someone’s drawing room in the 18th century’.

Dinton Castle’s importance was recognised in 1951 when it was first listed as a building of special architectural and historic interest, but it continued to crumble. Some remedial work was carried out by the local authority in the first decade of the present century, but the folly remained an empty shell until Spanish architect Jaime Fernandez bought the property in 2016, and set about creating a family home from the ruin.

The project was featured on the popular Grand Designs TV show, generating a huge amount of press interest, as well as some argument between those who saw a dream home, and those who preferred the folly’s former ‘decrepit glory’ (to borrow a phrase from John Piper). The grade II* building changed hands in 2021.

The Folly Flâneuse will now enjoy a glass, and then get back to fossicking for follies.

For more on Dinton Castle, including the opportunity to stay in the folly, visit https://www.dintoncastle.com

You can buy Dinton Folly wine https://dintonwines.com from BeerGinVino (does what it says on the tin/bottle) in nearby Haddenham https://beerginvino.com. The Folly Flaneuse’s ramblings are fuelled by good coffee, and Norsk in Haddenham provided this along with an excellent celebratory cinnamon bun https://www.norsklifestyle.com

* sometimes van Hatten or Vanhatten.

Thank you to readers old and new, and to everyone who has helped in any way since the tentative beginnings of this website almost four years ago. Especial thanks to four people: my ‘Uncouth Companion’, who is seldom seen but is ever-present and ever-appreciated; Mike Cousins, aka the Garden Historian, whose contributions are invaluable; and Gwyn Headley and Wim Meulenkamp who have inspired me since I picked up their first book on follies many years ago. As ever, comments are most welcome – please scroll down the page to get in touch. Cheers!

The 18th century poet William Cowper (1731-1800) was wont to write his works al fresco in a shelter in a garden or park. His first was a tiny ‘nook’ in his garden in the town of Olney, and he later composed lines in an alcove in the park at nearby Weston Underwood. Both survive today.

From 1768 to 1786 Cowper lived at Orchard House on the market place in Olney. The little summerhouse in his garden had been built as a smoking hut by the previous owner, but it adapted easily to Cowper’s use as a writing hut, or ‘Bouderie’ as he called it in 1785. Furnished with a table and two chairs, it was ‘secure from all noise, and a refuge from intrusion’.

Cowper moved to Weston Underwood in 1786 and the Throckmorton family of Weston Underwood Hall put the gardens and park at his disposal, including the shelter called the Alcove which at that date terminated a lime avenue leading from the house.

The following year Cowper’s friend Lady Austen challenged him to write a poem with a sofa as the theme. Initially intending to compose a few lines, the work somehow turned into the six books that make up The Task.  The poem includes a description of a walk through the grounds of Weston Underwood to the Alcove and these lines are engraved on a tablet in the building.

The Alcove was built in around 1753, but by the end of the 18th century the summerhouse is said to have been abandoned after the tragic death of the man who was painting the roof. This story is recorded in Cowper, Illustrated…, published in 1803, by which date the Alcove was described as showing signs of decay.

Cowper recorded in The Task that the Alcove attracted visitors who defaced the interior with graffiti (see the text on the plaque shown above). It is ironic then that his Summerhouse in Olney became an unusual ‘visitors’ book’ after the poet’s death, with Cowper’s fans inscribing their names on the walls. In 1867, when a restoration was planned, there were fears that the work would obliterate the many ‘signatures’ on the walls, which had become accepted as an important part of the building’s history.

The last Throckmorton to live at Weston Underwood died in 1826, and the following year ‘the fine old mansion’ was pulled down. The estate was sold at the end of the century, but subsequent owners continued to allow access to Cowper acolytes, including the many who descended on Olney in 1900 to celebrate the centenary of the poet’s death. On April 25th of that year there was a ‘Public Celebration And a Holiday for Olney’, the highlight of which was the official opening of the Cowper Museum in the poet’s former home in the town. Medals were struck, and silver spoons fashioned to mark the occasion, and extra trains were laid on to accommodate Cowper’s many fans.

By October 1946 the Alcove at Weston Underwood was said to be ‘badly in need of repair’ and Lord Denham, the then owner of the Weston estate, carried out repairs early in 1947. Lord Denham also alerted the Cowper Society, which launched an appeal to recoup the £200 which had been spent on the work, but the response was slow. At the same time the Cowper Society began discussions with the National Trust and other heritage bodies. The National Trust’s representative James Lees-Milne visited Weston Underwood to see the Alcove early in 1948, but was daunted by the potential costs of keeping the building in good repair.

The Cowper Society then approached Newton Pagnell Rural District Council. It agreed that the Alcove should be preserved, but proposed that the County Council should take the lead. In June 1948 Lord Denham agreed to convey the Alcove, and a small parcel of land around it, to Buckinghamshire County Council.

The Alcove is beautifully maintained by the council, and this most idyllic of spots has full public access. The Summerhouse can be seen in the pretty garden of the gem that is the Cowper & Newton Museum in Olney (Newton was Cowper’s friend and is best remembered today for his hymn Amazing Grace) https://cowperandnewtonmuseum.org.uk

If you would like to share any thoughts on this post please scroll down to the comments box below. Your contributions are always welcome. Thank you for reading.

In 1738 Langley Park was purchased by the 3rd Duke of Marlborough (1706-1758), and one of his first projects was the construction of an elegant casino with views to Windsor Castle. In the middle of the 19th century that temple was demolished, and replaced by an equally charming monumental column. That too survived for only a century, but happily a pictorial record helps tell the story.

With Blenheim Palace still home to the formidable Sarah, Dowager Duchess of Marlborough, the Duke made Langley Park his home. A new house does not seem to have been a priority, but he began working on the landscape only a couple of years after he bought the estate. The pavilion is known from a sketch taken by the gentleman architect Sir Roger Newdigate, of Arley Hall in Warwickshire, on one of his peregrinations. Horace Walpole was not impressed by the parkland feature (‘it is by no means gracious’), but Lady Newdigate found it an ‘elegant temple’ and its elevated position allowed for ‘beautiful prospects’ from the first floor banqueting room. It was extant when the Ordnance Survey drawings were made in 1811, but must have been taken down before the 1860s when a monumental column was built in its place.

In 1788 Langley Park was sold to Sir Robert Bateson Harvey, recently created a baronet in Ireland. His grandson (via Harvey’s illegitimate son), another Robert Bateson Harvey (1825-1887), succeeded to the estate in 1863. This was a big year for Harvey: not only did he inherit Langley Park from his father, but he was also elected Member of Parliament for Buckinghamshire. So this 30m high column, completed in 1865, may ostensibly have commemorated his late father, but on its elevated site it must also have been a symbol of his achievements and status. The latter was further enhanced when he was created a baronet in the English baronetage in 1868.

The monument was designed by Frederick Pepys Cockerell (1833-1878), and the original design, shown above, survives in the collection of the Victoria & Albert Museum, London. The builders were Fassnidge & Sons of Uxbridge, and their accounts survive showing that the tower cost £1646.12.3. The two side wings contained rooms, and the column contained a staircase up to a viewing platform, where a grand panorama included Windsor Castle. As this old view shows, Cockerell’s original design was modified and simplified in a number of ways – no doubt for reasons of economy.

The gardens at Langley were further developed in the early years of the 20th century. The Pulham practise created a rock garden from 1909, a Japanese garden was introduced, and in 1912 new planting was laid out around the monument. The death of the 2nd baronet without issue in 1931 was followed by the Second World War, and Langley Park was requisitioned. The estate became home to Polish troops who are reputed to have used the column for mortar practice. In 1944 the last baronet’s heirs sold the estate to Buckinghamshire County Council, with the house being put into institutional use and the grounds becoming a country park. By the late 1950s the column was thought to be a risk to public safety, and the County Planning Officer ordered that it be taken down.

Architectural Historian John Harris was among the crowds who gathered to watch the ‘spectacular demolition’ by explosives in January 1959. He chastised the local authority for sanctioning the destruction of the monument, but saw a glimmer of hope that one day it could be rebuilt, as the original plans survived. Sadly this hope remains unrealised, and only a plinth and haha survive in the park as a memorial to two exquisite garden features.

But as a consolation prize a similar column by Cockerell does survive, and in fine condition after restoration early this century. Soon after completing the Langley Park monument, Cockerell was one of four architects invited to submit a design for a monument to the 7th Earl of Carlisle (1802-1864) of Castle Howard in Yorkshire, and he won the commission. Erected on high ground a couple of miles from the mansion, it features garlands tumbling down the shaft, similar to that at Langley Park. Unlike at Langley, there is no internal staircase in the column of the Carlisle Monument, as its elevated position already enjoyed an extensive prospect.

For more on the temple see the paper by Gervase Jackson-Stops in the Georgian Group Journal. Top marks to the Georgian Group for making the newly digitised journals available to all https://georgiangroup.org.uk/wpcontent/uploads/2020/10/GGJ_1994_03_Jackson-Stops_0001-2.pdf

For Langley Country Park see https://countryparks.buckscc.gov.uk/langley-park/

The Langley Park mansion is now a hotel https://www.marriott.com/hotels/travel/loniv-the-langley-a-luxury-collection-hotel-buckinghamshire/

The rotunda at Stowe in Buckinghamshire was designed by Vanbrugh in around 1720, and stands on a sweeping lawn in front of the grand mansion. In the middle of the 20th century author T.H. White used a little artistic licence, and for the purposes of his story moved it to an island in one of the two lakes. There it became home to a colony of tiny people, and the adventure that is Mistress Masham’s Repose began.

Ten year old Maria, who has ‘eyes the colour of Marmite’, is an orphan.  She has been placed in the care of a scheming governess who is in cahoots with the local vicar to steal her inheritance – the vast Malplaquet estate. The house at Malplaquet is ‘surrounded by Vistas, Obelisks, Pyramids, Columns, Temples, Rotundas and Palladian Bridges’, all of which are slipping into decay after years of neglect. On an island in the lake stands a domed open rotunda called Mistress Masham’s Repose, home to around 500 little people who we learn are Lilliputians ‘in exile’, this being a sequel to Gulliver’s Travels. Can Maria and the little people thwart the gruesome governess and her vile vicar sidekick? The Folly Flâneuse will reveal no more here.

In the story, the Malplaquet mansion is shut up apart from two rooms where Maria and her governess live. It has been abandoned because ‘nobody could be persuaded to buy the place for a school’. This was of course an in-joke, for Malplaquet was based on Stowe, near Buckingham, which had been a school since 1923 after descendants of the Dukes of Buckingham and Chandos sold up. Terence ‘Tim’ Hanbury White (1906-1964) was the Head of English at the school in the early 1930s, and then spent some time living in a cottage in the grounds where he could concentrate on his writing (and in which guise he appears in the books as an eccentric academic). Familiar features at Stowe appear in the novel: the Temple of Concord and Victory for example becomes Neptune’s Temple, but the garden buildings, including some not mentioned in the text, are most easily identifiable in the wonderful map that forms the endpapers.

The map was drawn by White’s friend from his Cambridge days Raymond McGrath (1903-1977), an Australian born architect, illustrator, watercolorist, printmaker and interior designer, who arrived in London in the 1920s. In 1940 he moved to Ireland, where White also spent the war years. There he became an architect to the Ministry of Works, whilst still sketching and illustrating both for fun and commercially. McGrath was paid $50 by the American publishing house, G.P. Putnam & Sons, for the map of Malplaquet, apparently a ‘top fee for a map of this sort’.

Tim White’s Arthurian stories (later published together as The Once and Future King), were already very popular and would be adapted for the stage as Camelot, and by Walt Disney as the animated The Sword in the Stone. So his reputation was well established when Mistress Masham’s Repose was published first in America in 1946, and then in Britain by Jonathan Cape early the following year. The press advertisements announced it amongst other ‘forthcoming novels’, and were clearly targeting an adult audience with the blurb ‘a richly amusing fantasy with philosophical implications’. Reviewing it for the Daily Herald John Betjeman described it as a ‘thrilling story’, and concluded that ‘Mr White has written a story which will be good reading for all people from 12 to 100’. Tim White would have appreciated this comment, as he didn’t like to be pigeon-holed and said he never wrote for ‘anybody in particular’. The book was an instant success, bolstered by being chosen as a Book of the Month in America – this subscription scheme had close to 900,000 members when Mistress Masham’s Repose was selected.

The story was dedicated to Amaryllis Virginia Garnett, daughter of White’s friend and agent David ‘Bunny’ Garnett, a member of the ‘Bloomsbury Group’. Although the story is written as if being read to Amaryllis, she was only born in 1943 and must have had to wait a few years to hear the story.

The Folly Flâneuse throughly enjoyed revisiting the story, which is still in print today but not as well known as it should be. Although there was a radio play in 1952, the book has never been adapted for the screen. The late screenwriter and producer Carl Foreman owned the film and TV rights, but despite hints at a film in 1967, and discussions with Granada Television for an adaptation using the very latest technology in 1983, the projects were shelved.

Like the Lilliputians, White too enjoyed life on an island, and moved to the channel isle of Alderney after the success of Mistress Masham’s Repose to avoid what he saw as punitive British taxes. He also had a folly of his own, building a Temple to Hadrian (‘a very fine fellow’) in his garden. You can catch a glimpse of it in this wonderful bit of archive footage from the BBC, in which White is interviewed (? interrogated) by Robert Robinson https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p013h5b3

Mistress Masham’s Repose is a sequel to Gulliver’s Travels, and in turn Andrew Dalton’s Malplaquet trilogy beautifully illustrated by Jonny Boatfield advances Maria’s story. You can read Rita Boogaart’s account here http://follies.org.uk/wp/wp-content/uploads/ebulletin/Foll-e-46-Malplaquet.pdf Rita sadly passed away recently and will be greatly missed.

Read about Raymond McGrath’s amazing design for a modernist house in Surrey here https://www.themodernhouse.com/journal/architect-of-the-week-raymond-mcgrath/

Stowe House remains a school, although visitors are welcome at certain times of the year (under normal circumstances), and the pleasure grounds are in the care of the National Trust. The park is now open for pre-booked visits https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/stowe

Mistress Masham’s Repose has been through many editions and is still in print https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/1098952/mistress-masham-s-repose/9780099595175.html

Thank you for reading.

This weekend the country celebrates the 75th anniversary of VE Day. Thinking of the events of 1939-45, the Folly Flâneuse was reminded of a wartime project to document the changing rural and urban face of Britain. At a time when the future seemed uncertain,  ‘Recording Britain’ commissioned artists to portray the country as it then was, creating a visual history for future generations.

The ‘Scheme for Recording the Changing Face of Britain’ was initiated by Sir Kenneth Clark, then Director of the National Gallery, soon after the outbreak of the Second World War. Financial support from the Pilgrim Trust enabled him to recruit artists for the project, which soon became known by the snappier title of ‘Recording Britain’*. Although the threat of destruction, or devastation, as a result of war was one of the stimuli to collect images of a life that might be lost, Clark and his Committee were also responding to an age of rapid change, when industrial and residential development was encroaching on the countryside. There was also a philanthropic aspect, as artists were seen to be struggling to make a living in wartime.

Many artists were commissioned, and the list includes some who went on to become very well-known, John Piper perhaps foremost, but there are others who are barely known today. The scenes they were asked to portray included castles and canals, townscapes and topiary, inns and industry, and all aspects of the British landscape in the early 1940s. In a move to boost patriotism and morale during the war, selections from the collection were exhibited at the National Gallery, London, and the Council for the Encouragement of Music and the Arts organised provincial tours in conjunction with local arts groups.

Of the 1549 topographical works that were collected, a number of follies and landscape ornaments were included, and three are featured here: Freston Tower in Suffolk, the Pagoda at Alton Towers in Staffordshire, and the Dashwood Mausoleum in Buckinghamshire.

Freston Tower, overlooking the River Orwell in Suffolk, was the chosen subject of Russell Reeve (1895-1970), an artist who painted many Suffolk scenes. The tower had been standing since the 1570s, making it one of the oldest follies in Britain. Such tall coastal structures were seen as vulnerable, both as hinderances to British aircraft in a time of war, and as prominent objects to guide the enemy. Happily, the tower survives today and is a Landmark Trust property, available for lofty holiday lets.

A decade before she would publish Follies and Grottoes in 1953, Barbara Jones (1912-1978) chose to paint a view of the pagoda at Alton Towers in Staffordshire, one of many works she contributed to the scheme. Jones preferred the pagoda at Alton Towers, built in the early 1830s, to the more famous example at Kew, which she thought ‘a little pedestrian’. At Alton Towers, she later wrote, the ‘pagoda supports its winged roofs and bells on open lattice work of the most airy elegance’. Her ‘vivid’ watercolour of the pagoda was admired by the Yorkshire Post’s art critic when it went on display in Menston Methodist School, Yorkshire, in April 1945. Country houses and their parks were a focus for the project as there was a fear, ultimately justified, that many would be abandoned after the war, or become institutions. Alton Towers was not typical, as it had passed out of the family’s hands in the 1920s, and was operated as a pleasure ground by a local consortium. It was however requisitioned during the war, and returned in poor condition in 1951. A gradual restoration and development from that date eventually culminated in the hugely successful Alton Towers theme park.

The prominent mausoleum and eye-catcher on the West Wycombe estate in Buckinghamshire, was built in the 1760s for the Dashwood family. It was sketched for the project by Elliot Seabrooke (1886-1950), and remains today a striking feature of the landscape.

The Pilgrim Trust gave the collection to the V&A Museum, London, a partner since the early days of the project. The fabulous collection can be explored on their website https://collections.vam.ac.uk/search/?listing_type=&offset=0&limit=15&narrow=&extrasearch=&q=recording+britain&commit=Search&quality=0&objectnamesearch=&placesearch=&after=&before=&namesearch=&materialsearch=&mnsearch=&locationsearch=

And there is an excellent book about the scheme, Recording Britain, edited by Gill Saunders https://www.vam.ac.uk/shop/recording-britain-110127.html

*actually a misnomer as Northern Ireland was not represented. Scotland was excluded and had its own ‘Recording Scotland’ project. Wales was represented by only a few works, and within England there was a distinct southern bias with Northumberland and Durham excluded entirely and only 3 works featuring Cumberland.

A brief post this week as The Folly Flâneuse has been racing around at a somewhat faster pace than her usual omnipercipient strolling. However, the lovely images by John Piper will make up for the paucity of words.

After the Easter heatwave the weather broke just as The Folly Flâneuse arrived at Stowe – the photo above shows the view from the grotto, which gave some much needed protection from one of the heaviest of the showers. On the plus side, no-one else was about, and The Folly Flâneuse had Stowe all to herself.

The (re)visit was inspired by the image below, which featured in a recent exhibition put together by Neil Jennings Fine Art.

John Piper (1903-1992) first visited Stowe in the 1930s when he summed up the faded glory of the gardens with the evocative phrase ‘pleasing decay’. In that decade it was suggested that a book of views of Stowe would be well-received, but although Piper remained a regular visitor to the park, and produced many views in a range of media, the project stalled for decades.

Eventually, in 1983,  John Piper’s Stowe was published as a limited edition by the Hurtwood Press, in association with the Tate Gallery. The foreword was written by Piper himself and the images were accompanied by a commentary by Mark Girouard, who described the park as ‘a diamond which flashes in a different way, depending on the angle one looks at it.’

To give Piper the final word on Stowe: ‘There is no end to the things one can paint there, and dream about.’

John Piper’s works can be seen in collections across the country and further afield. His love for follies was not restricted to Stowe and he painted Clytha Castle in Wales, Dinton Folly in Buckinghamshire and the buildings at Renishaw Hall in Derbyshire, amongst many others. There’s a gallery dedicated to his life and work in the lovely River and Rowing Museum in Henley on Thames https://www.rrm.co.uk/visit/galleries/piper-gallery/

Start saving now for a selling (and loan) exhibition at London’s Portland Gallery in September http://www.portlandgallery.com/exhibitions/667/about/john-piper

More on Stowe here https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/stowe