In the early 1860s it was proposed that a monument should be erected to William Tyndale, the man who in 1526 produced the first printed edition of the New Testament in English. His aim was that it could be read by everyday people in their own tongue. This was forbidden by the Church, and Tyndale was executed for heresy in 1536. The foundation stone of his monument was laid in May 1863 and ever since the monument has been a landmark for travellers on Gloucestershire’s quiet byroads or, more recently, the swarming lanes of the M5 motorway.

The residents of North Nibley believed that Tyndale was born in their village in around 1484, and that the monument should be built on the hill called Nibley Knoll which overlooked the settlement. But others steadfastly maintained that Tyndale should be commemorated on nearby Stinchcombe Hill, which location also claimed links to the Tyndale family. Whilst the dispute continued, subscriptions to the fund to finance the tower were slow to arrive, with both sides encouraging their supporters not to contribute until the site was finalised in their favour.

In 1861 it was suggested that the ‘division of feeling’ might render the project ‘tame and impotent’. But eventually it was agreed that the monument would be built on Nibley Knoll, and the organisers were confident that subscriptions would then ‘flow in’. This wasn’t to be, and when the foundation stone was laid in May 1863 there was still only £800 of the required £1,500 in the bank.

The ceremony to lay the foundation stone was carried out with great pomp, with bands accompanying the dignitaries up to the tower and the local paper reckoning that a crowd of 10,000 was present. There were hymns, psalms, prayers, speeches and votes of thanks and the Hon. F.W.F. Berkeley M.P. laid the foundation stone with the obligatory commemorative silver trowel.

A ‘leaden box’ containing a bible and a scroll in a bottle was originally laid in a recesss below the foundation stone, but as the tower began to gain height the work was found to be unsatisfactory, and it was pulled down and rebuilt. The current whereabouts of that bible are unknown, but Wotton-under-Edge museum has copies of the bibles presented to the men who built the tower.

The architect appointed to design the monument, in the form of a prospect tower, was Samuel Sanders Teulon of London. This was presumably on Lord Ducie’s recommendation, as Teulon had designed his new home, Tortworth Court, a few years previously. The contractor was Mr Jackson of Uley, and Dr Antonio Salviati of Venice was commissioned to create a ‘large mosaic cross’ as the finial.

In November 1866 Lord Ducie performed the inauguration of the monument, and there was a final appeal for donations to clear the remaining shortfall of £300. The finished tower stands 111 feet high, excluding the cross, and a roundel above the door carries the inscription:

ERECTED A.D. 1866
IN GRATEFUL REMEMBRANCE OF
WILLIAM TYNDALE
TRANSLATOR OF THE ENGLISH BIBLE
WHO FIRST CAUSED THE NEW TESTAMENT
TO BE PRINTED IN THE MOTHER TONGUE
OF HIS COUNTRYMEN
BORN NEAR THIS SPOT HE SUFFERED
MARTYRDOM AT VILVORDE IN
FLANDERS ON OCT 6TH 1536

The monument became a popular destination for ramblers and picknickers who could admire the vast panorama over the Bristol Channel into Wales. In the 1930s one visitor wrote that the garage proprietor in North Nibley kept the ‘great nine-inch key to this stone column, and for threepence he will let you have the loan of it’. Although not impressed by the design, the writer Malachi Whitaker walked up to the ‘grim-looking monument, commemorating Tyndale, the man who did something to the Bible, which I have ungratefully forgotten’ and admired the prospect of hills and valleys and a ‘perfect evening sky’.

Barbara Jones, never one to repress her true thoughts, called the monument ‘an unspeakably ugly sleazily tapering stone tower’ (Follies & Grottoes, 1974). The Flâneuse rather likes it, and it was worth the steep and muddy climb to the plateau on which the tower stands on a wild and windy day.

There’s not space here to go into the life and work of William Tyndale, but there’s an excellent account on the North Nibley website if you would like to know more. The website also has directions to the monument, which is only accessible on foot. The door is open and you can climb to the top to appreciate the view.

If you visit the tower (grade II*) don’t miss the opportunity to visit the lovely little Wotton-under-Edge Heritage Centre. As well as a fascinating local history collection there are currently displays featuring Isaac Pitman (1813-1897), who invented shorthand in the town, and poet and writer Sophie Gaudier-Brzeska (1872-1925), who lived in the town for a few years from 1916.

As it was a dull January day when the Flâneuse visited the monument, here is Sophie Gaudier-Brzeska’s Landscape with Houses and Sun to bring a little cheer.

There are plans to celebrate the quincentenary of Tyndale’s achievement (1526-2026) and you can read more on the Tyndale Society website.

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In the vast park of Cirencester House, adjoining the town of the same name, a pretty rusticated temple sits in an opening called Seven Rides. This is the point where avenues cut through the woodland meet, giving long vistas in each direction. It was named Pope’s Seat after the poet, Alexander, who designed it for his friend Lord Bathurst.

Alexander Pope (1688-1744) was a good friend of Allen Bathurst, 1st Earl of Bathurst (1684-1775), who in the early eighteenth century was laying out pleasure grounds and parkland at his seat on the edge of the town of Cirencester. By 1742 Lord Bathurst’s demesne was described as ‘a fine park […] adornd w^th several beautifull buildings’. Pope is said to have offered advice on this landscaping and designed this alcove, which was named in his honour – ‘POPES SEAT’ is engraved on a stone above the entrance.

The Flâneuse is delighted to announce that a diminutive new version of the summerhouse has been added to the Cirencester Park landscape. Bristol based woodcarver Andy O’Neill started his working life as a graphic designer, before a desire to work outdoors led to a new career as a tree surgeon. Then, combining his creative and arboricultural talents, he began to create sculptures with a chainsaw.

When a decaying cedar had to be felled in Cirencester Park, Lord Bathurst saw the opportunity to use some of the timber to create a bench on the Broad Avenue, which runs for around six miles through the estate. In consultation with Andy it was decided to decorate it with Pope’s Seat in miniature.

Pope’s Seat is listed at grade II*. It and other fascinating ornaments can be seen when exploring Cirencester Park. For more information visit https://www.bathurstestate.co.uk

For more on Andy’s work see https://wildwoodcarving.co.uk

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A view of the house at Sledmere, painted in 1795, shows a classical orangery west of the kitchen garden. No trace of this building survives today but, mysteriously, another 18th century orangery can be found between the house and the stables.

Little is known about Sledmere’s first orangery. It must have been built in the late 18th century, and is believed to have been pulled down by Sir Tatton Sykes, 5th baronet (1826-1913) after he succeeded to the estate in 1863. Family legend has it that he was a great eccentric who thought flowers ‘nasty untidy things’ and wore countless layers of clothes. Local children would look out for his discarded coats and jackets, knowing that they would be rewarded with a coin when they returned them to the mansion. It is said that on a train journey, when swaddled in clothes, Sir Tatton became overheated. Rather than remove an outer garment he took off his shoes and socks and stuck his feet out of the window. Not a man to do things by halves, he also financed the building or restoration of  17 churches in the Yorkshire Wolds.

200 miles from Sledmere is Fairford Park, near Cirencester in Gloucestershire. The fine mansion was remodelled by Sir John Soane in the late 18th century, and the park was laid out by William Eames, a designer who created landscapes in the natural fashion made famous by Capability Brown. In 1787 it was said that ‘many alterations and improvements’ were ongoing in the park and gardens, and the new Orangery, with a roundel of Flora in the pediment, and four Coade stone plaques showing putti representing the four seasons, probably dates from this period.

In 1945 Fairford was bought by Ernest Cook, a former partner in the pioneering travel company Thomas Cook & Son. He had used his wealth to acquire 17 country estates, and his original plan was to donate them to the National Trust. At Fairford there were complications as land on the estate was still occupied by a Polish Displaced Persons camp, and until that was legally de-requisitioned the gift could not be made. Later, Cook’s relationship with the National Trust soured (the trust’s James Lee-Milne found the park at Fairford ‘flat and dull’ and decided the property was ‘unacceptable’). Only a handful of the properties were donated, with the others, including Fairford, placed in the Ernest Cook Trust, founded in 1952 and continuing today.

The house at Fairford was demolished in the mid-1950s to make way for a new secondary school, and the orangery, by now in a poor condition, was dismantled soon after and the facade given to the National Trust for safekeeping. For reasons unknown, the trust decided not to re-erect it in one of its many parks as originally planned, but instead gave it to the Sykes family of Sledmere on the condition that once rebuilt there would be public access. The Bath stone front, including the Coade stone ornaments, remained in storage for some years before Sir Tatton Sykes, 8th bart, commissioned the highly-regarded architectural practice Francis Johnson and Partners of Bridlington to restore and reuse the stonework as the front of a new orangery built of local brick. A plaque on the rear (private) elevation, which overlooks a swimming pool, records that it was completed in 2005.

The original design of the orangery is attributed to Sir John Soane, and dated c.1790, although no firm evidence has been found. The new interior was therefore modelled on the Music Room at Earsham in Norfolk, a Soane garden building of a similar date. New plasterwork was commissioned from the master craftsmen at Stevensons of Norwich, including medallions with the Sykes heraldic triton, seen on many buildings on the estate. The building was awarded a commendation for a ‘New Building in a Georgian Context’ by the Georgian Group in 2012.

For Sledmere see https://www.sledmerehouse.com

For the Sykes churches see https://www.eychurches.org.uk/images/stories/leaflets/Sykes_Open_Churches_Leaflet.pdf

The Ernest Cook Trust continues today as the U.K.’s foremost providers and funders of outdoor learning, helping children and young people, particularly those who are disadvantaged, develop a love and understanding of the natural world. Their offices are in the grounds of Fairford Park https://ernestcooktrust.org.uk

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The Round Tower, aka Guy’s Folly, stood on high ground to the west of what is now the A424 between Stow on the Wold and Burford. Sadly, this lovely little folly was demolished in the 1970s to make way for a B.B.C. transmission mast. Both Napoleon and Kitchener make an appearance in its rather hazy history…

In the first edition of Follies and Grottoes (1953) Barbara Jones wrote that the tower was built in 1805, although a descendant has stated that the tower was dated 1810. Maps show it was extant by 1815, but it is first named in 1824 when marked on Bryant’s map of Gloucestershire as ‘observatory’ and on Greenwoods’ map as ‘Guys Monument’. A few years later it was named on the 1st Series Ordnance Survey map as ‘Guys Tower’,  but on later maps it is called the ‘Round Tower’. The poor structure must have had a real identity crisis. To add to the confusion the tower also managed to stand in two counties at once…

By some historical quirk a small part of the parish of Icomb, in which the tower stands, was once in Worcestershire, although it was transferred to Gloucestershire in 1844. The tower was built straddling the the two counties, with the border apparently passing through the middle of the fireplace. This led to the peculiar circumstance, reported in the local paper in 1871, that within the tower it was possible to ‘boil your kettle in Gloucestershire and drink your tea in Worcestershire’. This sounds like another bit of folly fancifulness, but the earliest ordnance survey maps do indeed show the county boundary with the tower sitting astride.

The history of the tower is equally confusing, with Jones being informed that it was (a) a lookout tower in case of invasion by Napoleon’s forces (b) a watchtower where Farmer Guy could keep an eye on his workers and (c) the tower used by Kitchener to watch his troops on manoeuvres before the Boer War. What can be agreed upon is that the tower gave a ‘fine view’ of the surrounding countryside.

Actually, there may be some truth in all three tales. Local histories suggest that a Mr Guy built the tower to look out for French invaders: that there was a local gentleman farmer of this name is confirmed by a newspaper report of ‘Farmer Guy’ of Icomb exhibiting a magnificent ewe at Smithfield Market in 1822. This was John Guy (1773-1837), ‘rather an eccentric man’, who later settled near High Wycombe. He was buried in Hughendon churchyard, and his gravestone is featured in many a volume on unusual epitaphs:

In coffin made without a nail,
Without a shroud his limbs to hide;
For what can pomp or shew avail,
Or velvet pall to swell the pride;
Here lies John Guy beneath this sod,
Who lov’d his friends and fear’d his God.

He certainly sounds like a folly builder. Visitors later wrote of the ‘magnificent panorama which the spot commanded’, even if Napoloeon’s army never did march in to enliven the view.

As for the idea that Field Marshal His Excellency The Right Honourable The Earl Kitchener climbed the tower… his presence may be hyperbole, but in 1909 the British army did carry out large scale manoeuvres in the area, with one unit stationed near the folly.

By the second half of the century the tower was in use as a dwelling for farm labourers, and there was a detached kitchen and a garden. There was great excitement for the residents in June 1887 when a ‘flight of fireworks’ was launched from the roof, the highest spot in the area, to mark Queen Victoria’s golden jubilee. But by 1913 the tower was out of fashion, and a county history dismissed it as ‘a round tower in the sham Gothic taste of the early 19th century’. Its charm was also lessened by an unattractive coating of pebble-dash.

The Round House remained a home until sometime around the Second World War, but thereafter it stood empty, although photographs from 1966 show it in a fairly good condition.

Thereafter the tower began to decline quite rapidly, and in 1972 it was described as being ‘very dilapidated’ with a ‘large crack down the middle’. Although the owner, Icomb Proper Estates Ltd., did attempt to find a tenant willing to take on the tower, none was forthcoming.

It was initially suggested that the BBC might restore the tower, and place a mast on top, but this wasn’t to be. The Planning Committee and Parish Council, no doubt looking forward to an evening watching a less fuzzy episode of The Generation Game, raised no objections when the B.B.C. built a mast alongside the crumbling tower and then sought permission to demolish the tower.

Happily, the Royal Commission for Historic Monuments made a photographic record of the tower before it was taken down, and a basic archaeological investigation was carried out to look for evidence of iron age activity. None was found, although the site yielded clay pipes, china and glass from its years as a family home.

The BBC continues to transmit from Icomb Hill. The pylon may not be as beautiful as the tower, but it is useful.

Update September 2022: thanks to Mel Osmond for getting in touch to share this photo, taken when her grandmother lived in the tower.

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With vaccines very much in the news at the moment, The Folly Flâneuse was reminded that a little rustic hut, in a garden in Gloucestershire, played a role in the development of inoculation in Britain and across the world. In May 1796 Edward Jenner successfully vaccinated a child against smallpox, and as news of his work spread globally, he began to inoculate the poor of his neighbourhood in this summerhouse in his garden.

Jenner (1749-1823) trained with the renowned physician Dr John Hunter, and then settled in the village where he was born, Berkeley, south of Gloucester. He wasn’t the first to investigate vaccination, but his pioneering work (often against considerable opposition) made him the leader in the field and eventually led to the eradication of the dreadful smallpox disease.

His home, The Chantry, was set in pretty gardens and at the ‘southern extremity’ was the summerhouse, built in the late 18th century to take advantage of the view to Stinchcombe Hill, and as Jenner himself said, to give a ‘rural appearance to that part of the garden’.

By 1804 it had been ‘converted into a place of utility’ which Jenner playfully named of The Temple of Vaccinia*, because like a ‘faithful priest’ he always hoped to find it full of ‘worshippers’, in this case the local children awaiting inoculation. Here, as his biographer John Baron wrote, ‘wonders were wrought’ as Jenner protected the poor from a lethal disease.

The picturesque rustic shelter was constructed out of branches and roots to a design by Jenner’s friend, the Reverend Robert Ferryman (c1753-1837). Ferryman is an interesting character; a conviction for violent abuse and assault, ‘pecuniary distress’, and accusations of neglect by his churchwardens, suggest that he perhaps enjoyed socialising more than sermonising, and as we shall see his considerable talents lay in other fields.

The Reverend Fosbroke wrote about Jenner’s garden in 1821 and described the designer of the ‘thatched cottage’ as a Clergyman of ‘very original and surpassing taste’, particularly in picturesque gardening and ‘perfect rustic work’. Baron, writing in the 1830s, suggested that Ferryman’s talent as a landscape gardener outstripped all others: ‘in the style of ornamental improvement, which within the last half century has done so much to augment the natural beauties of England, Mr Ferryman was quite unrivalled’. This is surely hyperbole, and  Humphry Repton may remain as the period’s preeminent landscape gardener, but Reverend Ferryman’s garden design prowess clearly demands further research. There’s a tantalising reference to the clergyman ‘laying-out’ grounds ‘in the neighbourhood of Glocester’ [sic] in a letter from Samuel Lysons to Joseph Banks in 1789, so Jenner’s garden may have been one of Ferryman’s commissions at this date.

After Jenner’s death The Chantry became the vicarage, and the summerhouse in the garden remained an ‘object of interest’ for visitors to the town. By the 1950s it was no longer in good repair and there was concern for its future, although it had been listed at grade II* in 1952. The Jenner Trust was formed in 1966 when a group of doctors got together with the aims of restoring the Temple of Vaccinia, ensuring it was kept in permanent repair, and forming a museum to celebrate Jenner’s life and work. Ironically, it is a virus that now threatens Dr Jenner’s House, Museum and Garden, as without visitors during the COVID-19 pandemic the main source of funding has been lost. Find out how you could help the only folly that can claim to be the world’s first vaccination clinic here https://jennermuseum.com/support

Thanks to Owen Gower, Museum Manager of Dr Jenner’s House, Museum and Garden, for enabling the virtual visit and for help with this post.

UPDATE MARCH 2026: thank you to reader Sue T for the information that work is about to start to replace the thatch on the summerhouse roof.

* when first described in an account published in 1804 the name was given as ‘Temple of Vaccina’ but it is more commonly known today as the Temple of Vaccinia.

Barnsley House, in the village of the same name, is one of those picture-perfect Cotswold manor houses of exquisite honey-coloured stone. Built in the last years of the 17th century it passed through various owners, and served as the Rectory, before being purchased by the Verey family in 1939. It came to fame a generation later when David Verey, an architectural historian, and his wife Rosemary inherited the house. Rosemary Verey went on to create one of the most famous gardens in Britain, and even those who have never visited (including, until this week, The Folly Flâneuse) would recognise the laburnum avenue underplanted with alliums that has graced many a calendar and greetings card.

As David Verey himself wrote in the Gloucestershire: The Cotswolds volume of the Buildings of England series (aka ‘Pevsner’) the garden contains a ‘fine gothic alcove of c.1770-80 with ogee entrance and panelled front’. Rosemary Verey went on to design gardens worldwide, but that surrounding her own home remains her most famous creation. The house became a hotel a couple of years after her death in 2001.

For many years The Folly Flâneuse has cherished a pair of bookends that keep in place a key selection of her much-consulted folly reference books. Purchased many years ago from Timothy Richardson Architectural Models, they were very much at the, how to put it, affordable end of the company’s offering. Much as The Folly Flâneuse coveted the model of the Temple of the Winds at Castle Howard, it wasn’t to be. But the bookends continue to be both beautiful and useful, and it was delight to see their inspiration at long last.