In 1826 Charles Heathcote Tatham exhibited a view of a ‘tower now erecting’ at the Royal Academy. The tower was a belvedere, eye-catcher and summerhouse on the Rookesbury estate, near Wickham, where a substantial new house, also designed by Tatham, was under construction.

Rookesbury (often Rooksbury) was the seat of Reverend William Garnier (1771-1835) and his wife Lady Harriett, née North (1771-1847). As well as replacing the existing house with one on higher ground, the couple remodelled the pleasure grounds. A series of views of Hampshire mansions, published in 1825, describes the new landscaping and notes that the ‘elevated Tower’ was under construction. Presumably it was nearing completion, as the author could admire the views to Portsmouth Harbour, the Isle of Wight and the Channel.

From the house a stroll though the flower gardens led to a ‘romantically wooded glen’ from where a winding path meandered to the ‘considerable open eminence’ on which the tower stood. The building was called ‘Summer House’ on the 1839 tithe map, and noted in 1833 as the ‘Observatory’, but later in the century it became known simply as ‘the Tower’. It stood on high ground east of the house.

The views from the top of the tower could still be appreciated in the 1930s, but by 1972 the ‘curious tower’ was in an ‘advanced state of decay’. Barbara Jones saw the building as she was researching the revised edition of Follies & Grottoes in the 1970s (the photograph at the top of the page is from her collection). She admired the ‘impressive tower’ but felt its prospects of survival were ‘nil’. As she put the finishing touches to her text a friend wrote with news of the tower’s demise, and she concluded her account of the ‘spectacular’ folly with the depressing phrase ‘Demolished May 1973’.

What makes this particularly sad is that the Rookesbury estate has had the misfortune to lose two fine towers. The view from an earlier tower was admired by the theatrical impresario Tate Wilkinson in 1759 when he visted the Garnier family at Rookesbury. He found David Garrick there and the actor, being younger than his host, gave Wilkinson a tour of the house and gardens, skipping around like a ‘lad of twenty’.

Wilkinson wrote that Garnier had built the tower for ‘study, curiosity, and prospect’ and, as he compares the prospect favourably to one he had seen nearby, we know the view took in the Isle of Wight, the ‘ocean’ and shipping. This tower is shown on an estate map of 1756 and on Taylor’s County map of 1759 as ‘Temple’ (above) and it too stood east of the house. The Flâneuse has been unable to conclude if the belvederes stood on the same site, and sadly no trace remains of either tower.

Rookesbury was a school for many years but is now a wedding and events venue. There’s more information here.

Thank you for reading. As always, further information and general thoughts are very welcome – you can get in touch via the comments box at the foot of the page. A reminder that your contact details remain confidential, only your name will appear.

Sir Richard Worsley inherited his father’s baronetcy, and the Appuldurcombe estate on the Isle of Wight, in 1768. The following year set off on the Grand Tour, and on his return in 1770 he turned his attention to remodelling the house and park. In the next few years he erected two eye-catchers to be seen from the mansion: an obelisk and a dramatic hilltop sham ruin called Cook’s Castle.

The origin of the name Cook’s Castle is uncertain, but it is named as such on a 1773 estate plan. In the eighteenth century there was no good road to the folly, and in 1793 Henry Penruddocke Wyndham was frustrated by the effort that was required to reach the ruins. He concluded that the sham castle did not ‘deserve such exertions’, as the building was too ‘regular’, that is it was too neat to be a genuine ruin. His mistake seems to have been to view the folly at close quarters: Sir Richard Worsley (1751-1805) himself described the sham in his History of the Isle of Wight, published in 1781, and makes it clear that the ‘ruin of an ancient castle’ was intended as ‘a point of view from the house’. Maps from the middle of the nineteenth century also show it as a series of three towers connected by a curtain wall, but as an engraving from the same period illustrates, the central tower had by then collapsed.

Visitors who looked to the folly from the mansion were impressed, and even the oft-critical commentator on landscape Revd William Gilpin found much to praise. He described Appuldurcombe House as ‘magnificent’, and thought the grounds equally impressive. Cook’s Castle was, he wrote, ‘well executed and […] well placed’. A traveller in 1798 noted the ‘modern ruin’, and thought it had a ‘better effect from the house than is usual for such buildings to have’.

A century later, with improved roads and the coming of the railway, Cook’s Castle and its ‘picturesque grounds’ had become a favourite picnic spot for excursionists and society outings. Few were fooled by the supposed ancient ruin, and John Gwilliam expressed his feelings in verse in 1845:

There was of course a downside to the popularity of the spot, which was featured in countless guidebooks, and by 1887 there were concerns that the folly was being damaged by vandals. The sham ruin quickly became a genuine one, and by the middle of the twentieth century there was nothing at all to be seen. Only a stone now marks the approximate spot where Cook’s Castle once stood.

Sir Richard also erected a ‘Cornish granite obelisk, near seventy feet high’ to the memory of Sir Robert Worsley 4th bart, who died in 1747 (the fourth baronet died without issue and the Appuldurcombe estate was left to a cousin who was Sir Richard’s grandfather). Built on a ‘bare down’, the obelisk was completed in 1774 and commemorated Sir Robert’s ‘long and exemplary life’, and Sir Richard’s gratitude that he had succeeded to the estate.

The monument was visible from miles around, but this exposed spot made it vulnerable to the elements. Having been repaired after a lightning strike in 1831, it was ‘blown down’ in a gale in December 1836.

The lower stages of the obelisk were restored in 1983, resulting in a stubby little monument, which is no longer a great landmark and eye-catcher…

The only major landscape ornament to survive at Appuldurcombe today is the elegant Freemantle Gate (grade II*), described in c.1779 as a ‘handsome Gateway of the Ionic Order’.

It is not clear who designed the obelisk and folly castle, but the antiquarian Sir Richard is likely to have played a part. A possible candidate is William Donn, who worked for Lancelot ‘Capability’ Brown before setting up on his own: he was paid almost £4,000 for work at Appuldurcombe between 1774 and 1782. Donn was crossing to the Isle of Wight in 1777 and chatted to a fellow traveller. The tourist noted in his journal that Donn was working for Sir Richard, and described him as being ’employed in undertaking to build Houses and to lay out Gardens for Gentlemen’ (thanks to the Garden Historian for this brilliant reference).

Capability Brown himself did visit Appuldurcombe in October 1779, and sent a plan for improvements the following summer. Sadly Sir Richard’s accounts of work on the house and park are not known to survive, so many questions about who did what, and when, remain unanswered, but the sham castle and obelisk pre-date Brown’s plan.

Appuldurcombe House (grade I) is in the care of English Heritage and can be visited in the summer season. It was a roofless shell for many years but has been partially restored as a wedding venue. There’s more here.

There is a comments box at the foot of the page and your thoughts are always welcome. Thanks for reading.

After his great success in keeping Great Britain safe from Napoleon Bonaparte, the Duke of Wellington was asked to choose an estate which would be funded by a grateful nation. In 1817 he saw Stratfield Saye, and decided to make it his home. He lived there until his death in 1852, and it remains the seat of his descendants. In 1845 Queen Victoria announced that she and Prince Albert, together with their courtiers, were coming to stay with the ‘good old Duke’.

Stratfield Saye was purchased from the 2nd Baron Rivers, whose family had owned the house since the early seventeenth century. In the 1750s George and Penelope Pitt (later 1st Baron and Baroness Rivers) improved the house and pleasure grounds so that by 1762 the park was described as ‘laid out prettily’. Although there were ambitious plans to build a new palace in the park, these were never executed and the Duke was content to remodel the existing, relatively modest, house.

The Queen and her party set off from Windsor on 20th January 1845. Her route had been announced to the press and well-wishers lined the streets of the towns and villages she passed through. At Arborfield Cross in Berkshire two detachments of the North Hants Yeomanry met the royal party and formed an escort to Stratfield Saye. The Duke of Wellington (1769-1852) joined the procession to ride the last few miles to the house.

The Queen wrote about the visit in her diary. She found Stratfield Saye ‘a low and not very large house, but warm and comfortable’ and she enjoyed a walk in the pleasure grounds – although sadly she doesn’t mention a summerhouse. Prince Albert went shooting and his wife later watched him try a game of tennis (the Duke was ‘an ardent admirer of this healthy pastime’). Evenings were spent in the company of the local aristocracy and gentry.

It is not clear what the summerhouse looked like when Queen Victoria visited, but something was extant at that date and was shown on the 1839 tithe map. The summerhouse is dated 1846, so the Duke either rebuilt or refurbished it the year after Victoria’s visit to commemorate her stay. Whilst nineteenth century accounts are full of admiration for the specimen trees planted in the pleasure ground (including Wellingtonia, of course), there doesn’t seem to be even the briefest mention of this lovely rustic retreat.

The summerhouse is double-fronted, with one front giving a view into the pleasure grounds around the house, and the other a view out over meadows to the handsome stone bridge over the river Loddon, built by Lord Rivers in the eighteenth century.

The whole structure is built of natural materials: the roof is covered in wooden shingles, the floor is pebble and flint and the walls are decorated with geometric patterns made of slender stems. Inside is the date 1846 and on the side walls of one room the Queen’s insignia faces that of the Duke.

It is particularly pleasing to see the summerhouse (grade II) being restored for the benefit of future generations using traditional materials.

Stratfield Saye usually opens for pre-booked visits in August each year: put it in your diary for 2025.

As well as the house (grade I) and collections, there can also be seen the grave of Wellington’s horse, Copenhagen, and the absolutely amazing leviathan that is the carriage built in only a few days to carry the Duke’s coffin to his funeral  https://wellington.co.uk/stratfield-saye-house/

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

Sir George Staunton bought the Leigh Park estate in 1820, and set to work remodelling the house and ornamenting the park with an eclectic range of garden buildings. Many are sadly lost today, but a programme of restoration, in what is now Staunton Country Park, is bringing some of the survivors back to life. One of the loveliest of the garden ornaments is this exquisite little Shell-House.

Sir George (1781-1859) travelled to China as a child, and later became a great expert on the country during a career in the East India Service. In 1819 he bought the Leigh Park estate.

The house was then less than 20 years old, and had been extensively remodelled by local architect John Kent at the beginning of the century. The sales particulars described the surrounding park as a ‘perfect ferme ornée’, but its character would soon change as Sir George added ‘numerous objects of decoration and interest’.

The park became home to a Chinese Bridge, Chinese Summerhouse, Turkish Kiosk, and Obelisk, as well as classical temples, rustic shelters and bridges. An artificial lake had three islands – one housed the gardener, one was home to the swans, and the third had a sham fort (with the Chinese flag flown when Sir George was in residence). 

James King composed A Poem on Leigh Park in 1829 extolling the virtues of the spot. The Folly Flâneuse will give just a brief taste from the near 40 pages:

The glorious strife of Art and Nature see,
Within thy Paradise, most lovely Leigh,
An art that glows with every nameless grace,
And emulates the charms of Nature’s face,
An art, O Staunton, by thy genius fired,
By thee with sweet variety inspired…

In 1836 a detailed prose account of the house and park was published: Notices of the Leigh Park Estate tells us that the Shell House was built in 1828, and the design was based on a print of the ancient Chichester Market Cross. Sir George used the architect Lewis Vulliamy (1791-1871) for many of the parkland structures, and the Shell House is therefore attributed to him.

The building was covered in decorative panels of knapped and coursed flint, each filled with pebbles, and inside the walls were ‘encrusted with shells’. Despite Sir George’s connections with far-off lands, these were not exotic specimens shipped home to England, but the spoils of days on the beach at nearby Hayling Island. The Shell-House was used as a museum to house Sir George’s natural history collection. The Notices gave a complete list of the contents, but to summarise there was an extensive collection of minerals, ceramics including Roman pottery and ‘Wedgewood’s designs’, and a ‘small stuffed crocodile’.

Sir George died in 1859, and his obituary recognised his career in China and his subsequent service as a politician. But the writer felt that above all the local community would remember Sir George for ‘the fact of his beautiful gardens and grounds being open to the inspection of all applicants’.

In 1861 William Henry Stone, MP for Portsmouth, purchased the estate and built a new house. In the process of remodelling he demolished one of the landscape buildings, a temple which Staunton had built to house busts and dedications honouring his friends and family. A number of the inscribed plaques were removed to the Shell-House, and hence it became known as the ‘Staunton Memorial’.

Leigh Park was requisitioned for use by the Admiralty during the Second World War. In 1946 it was purchased by Portsmouth City Council as land for new housing and a public open space, and in 1959 the house (by then a Victorian replacement) was demolished. Leigh Park was renamed Staunton Country Park in 1987, and as in Sir George’s day visitors are once more welcome to enjoy the grounds.

A 1944 photograph of the Shell-House shows it was largely intact at that date, but as the century progressed vandalism became a major issue, and by the millennium the grade II* listed folly was looking ‘the worse for wear’. All but one of the wall plaques had disappeared, the shellwork was lost, and the roof had collapsed.

Happily, a £3.8 million investment by the Heritage Lottery Fund, Big Lottery Fund and Hampshire County Council has seen the Shell-House and other structures restored by an expert team, including Conservation Architect John Malaiperuman, who first introduced the Folly Flâneuse to this fascinating park.

The Shell-House’s lost lantern was rebuilt in reconstituted Portland Stone, with natural Portland Stone pinnacles, and the missing flint and pebbles have been restored with materials that match the originals.

In July 2021 the restored park was formally opened. There is an excellent Follies Trail, highlighting both extant and lost structures, including the Chinese Bridge and the Belvedere, pictured here.  https://www.stauntoncp.co.uk/en/hub/765

UPDATE APRIL 2022: The Folly Flâneuse is always pleased to receive feedback from readers who visit follies as a result of seeing them featured here. But she was particularly delighted to learn that a recent post had inspired something much more exciting than a day trip: Alan and Claire Terrill were so charmed by the recently restored Shell House that Claire challenged Alan to build a miniature version as a house for the family’s tortoises Diogenes, Loosestrife and Ephebe. Whilst the Shell House had an interior embellished with shells, Alan decided to put the his shell decoration on the outside, and when temporarily stumped by the construction of the roof, he turned to Jon Malaiperuman, conservation architect for the restoration of the Shell House, who was happy to help. Alan also decided to incorporate silhouettes of noble tortoises standing on pedestals in the blank arches on the sides, in the manner of the Temple of British Worthies at Stowe. As you can see, the tortoises are already very much at home.

For all the latest news visit the Friends of Staunton Park website https://foscp.co.uk

Thanks to Matthew Beckett for permission to use the photo of the Victorian mansion before demolition. His ‘Lost Heritage’ website records the lost houses of England and is well worth exploring http://www.lostheritage.org.uk

Thank you for reading. Do get in touch with any thoughts – there is a comments box at the foot of the page.

High in Hampshire stands this imposing monument. It marks the resting place of a heroic horse, which managed not only to survive a leap into a deep pit, rider intact, but went on to win a great race the following year. That rider was Paulet St John (1704-1780) of Farley Chamberlayne. Alongside his sporting exploits, he found time to be a Member of Parliament and Mayor of Winchester, and was rewarded in 1772 when he became Sir Paulet St John, baronet.

But to go back forty years to 1733: when out ‘a foxhunting’ St John misjudged the terrain and found himself leaping into a chalk pit which was 25 feet deep. Somehow, neither man nor mount was injured, and the horse went on to win the Hunters’ Plate at Winchester the following year. The tale, as told on the monument, is that St John celebrated his lucky escape by entering the horse in the race under the name of ‘Beware Chalk Pit’, although a diligent writer in the Sporting Magazine of 1840 searched back in the records and concluded that the horse was actually better known as a chestnut called (unimaginatively) Foxhunter.

Exact dates for the death of the horse, and the erection of what became known locally as ‘the ‘Horse Monument’, seem to be lost. The mound on which it stands is thought to be Bronze Age, but with modern interventions, and it was once the site of a beacon. Most sources suggest the monument was built in 1795, but as this was 15 years after St John died it must be earlier, and almost certainly before 1772, as the inscription does not record St John’s baronetcy. On Taylor’s 1759 map of Hampshire the site is marked as ‘Beacon Hill’, but no building is indicated (although frustratingly this doesn’t mean it wasn’t there). However by 1791 when Milne’s map of the county was made, ‘Beacon Hill’ is shown complete with a building on the summit. By the time the 1st series Ordnance Survey map was published in the 1810s the building had become known as the ‘Farley Monument’.

In 1863 the monument was described as ‘somewhat dilapidated’ and it was covered with graffiti as a result of ‘vulgar Vandalism’ (presumably it had stood strong against the weather, because of course in Hampshire hurricanes hardly ever happen…). It was restored by the Rt Hon Sir William Heathcote, Bt, of Hursley in 1870, and it seems that it was actually more of a rebuild than a repair. In 1846 it was described as a ‘miniature pyramid’ and an engraving published in 1861 (above) shows a cube with a pyramid roof, much simpler and squatter in form than the current structure. A most unexpected source, of which more later, described it in 1848 as ’20 feet high’, whereas the present pyramid reaches over 32 feet (10m).

Post-restoration, the cube base had disappeared and an elegant elongated pyramid had appeared in its place. There are porches on each face: one contains an entrance and the other three are blank. Inside a room was constructed so ‘way-farers and picnic parties may rest and be thankful’. Heathcote replaced the original inscription with two plaques (one inside, one on the exterior), adding for posterity his own role in the building:

UNDERNEATH LIES BURIED
A HORSE
THE PROPERTY OF PAULET ST JOHN ESQ
THAT IN THE MONTH OF SEPTEMBER 1733 LEAPED
INTO A CHALK PIT TWENTYFIVE
FEET DEEP A FOXHUNTING
WITH HIS MASTER ON HIS BACK.
AND IN OCTOBER 1734 HE WON THE
HUNTERS PLATE ON WORTHY DOWNS
AND WAS RODE BY HIS OWNER
AND ENTERED IN THE NAME OF
“BEWARE CHALK PIT”
—–
THE ABOVE BEING THE WORDS OF
THE ORIGINAL INSCRIPTION
WERE RESTORED BY THE RT HON.
SIR WILLIAM HEATHCOTE BARONET
SEP.  A. D. 1870

The monument was nicely summarised by John Rayner in the 1937 Shell Guide to Hampshire as a ‘strange manifestation of the English spirit, combining hippo mania and the almost invariably successful grandeur of follies’.

The monument needs regular maintenance. It was restored in 1950, and again at the beginning of the current century, when the question of whether it was actually an equine mausoleum (which it had been called since at least 1798), was raised. A basic investigation found no trace of the horse, but it did confirm that the building had been constructed in ‘two phases’. This restoration involved stripping off the old render and removing and replacing the decayed outer skin of brickwork. Once rebuilt the pyramid was re-rendered with lime mortar and painted. In 2014 further renovation and repainting was required to keep the monument looking its best. Since the early 1970s the surrounding land has been a country park with the grade II listed monument dominating the landscape.

But to return to the unlikely source of the measurement of the tower: in 1848 a Geometry and Mechanics examination paper for the Winchester Diocesan Training School, asked the following question: ‘The “Horse Monument” on Farley Mount is a pyramid of brick-work 20 feet high, built upon a mound 30 feet high; supposing the materials to weigh 8 tons, how many units of work were expended in raising them from the foot of the mound to their present position?’

If that’s too taxing, have a listen to a brief 1937 clip about the folly on Pathé News. Having sneaked Professor Henry Higgins into the text earlier, he would surely have approved of the clipped pronunciation of “Hempshire” https://www.britishpathe.com/video/horse-monument/query/Farley

The fabulous colour photos used here are all courtesy of John Malaiperuman, the conservation architect who led the 2014 restoration. You can see more of his work here http://johnmal.com/farley-mount/

For Farley Mount Country Park  https://www.visit-hampshire.co.uk/things-to-do/farley-mount-country-park-p1414861