Moreton House, in Dorset, is the seat of the Frampton family. In the middle of the eighteenth century, it was home to James Frampton who remodelled the house and created new plantations and pleasure grounds. When he died in 1784 his friend Captain John Houlton erected an obelisk on the estate to ‘perpetuate a worthy and much-lamented character’.

The designer of the obelisk is known to be James Hamilton (1748-1829) of Weymouth. Little is known of his career in the years before the monument was erected, but he went on to be highly regarded in his home town. In the 1790s he described himself as ‘Builder and Stone Mason’ and, capitalising on Weymouth’s popularity as a healthy seaside retreat, he was also a ‘Proprietor of Bathing Machines’. He designed houses and a church in Weymouth, and his name is prominent on the 1809 monument to George III in the town.

Moreton is about 11 miles north-east of Weymouth. The obelisk stands at the junction of a network of rides in Fir Hill plantation, which had been laid out by James Frampton (1769-1854) as part of his ‘various and great Improvements’. The monument is 77 feet high (23.5m) and is topped with an elegant urn, which is itself almost 10 feet (3m) tall: this was carved from a block of Portland stone ‘near 4 tons in weight’ (4064 kg). A copper bar connects the urn and the shaft to provide stability, and a lightning conductor was in place from the very start to help avert damage by thunderbolt – an occupational hazard for obelisks.

Although the obelisk carries the date of Frampton’s death, 1784, work was not completed until the autumn of 1786. A full description of the obelisk was given in the Gentleman’s Magazine in 1787, and was accompanied by ‘an accurate Engraving’.

The article also quoted in full the inscriptions on the pedestal. On the north side, facing the house, was an inscription in English:

This Obelisk was erected
In the year 1784,
By Captain JOHN HOULTON,
As a publick Teftimony
Of his Gratitude and Refpect
For the Memory
Of his much-efteemed
And lamented Friend
The late JAMES FRAMPTON Efq.
Of this Place.

On the opposite face was an inscription in Latin celebrating Frampton’s creation of the landscape and noting the site of the obelisk as one of his favourite spots on the estate.

Frampton’s children thought his estate improvements and charitable works were all the monument he needed, as detailed on the simple plaque to his memory in the church dedicated to St Nicholas. In building the obelisk Captain John Houlton clearly wished to make a more prominent statement of his admiration for his friend.

The obelisk could be seen from miles around, and was a landmark noted by tourists exploring Dorset. In the nineteenth century, like many prominent landscape ornaments, it was a meeting place for the local hunt. Although the woodland has matured, a vista to the obelisk from Moreton House is maintained.

The obelisk has been in a very poor condition for many years now, and it is listed on Historic England’s Register of Buildings at Risk (it is a scheduled monument rather than a listed building).

As the obelisk decayed, the inscribed plaques were moved to the gate of the village cemetery, a short walk from the church, to ensure their survival.

Moreton’s church, commissioned by James Frampton in the 1770s, is a delight both inside and out. After admiring the very attractive and unusual exterior one goes inside to be amazed by the extraordinary light that flows through the clear glass windows. The church was badly damaged by bombing in 1940 and during the restoration green glass panes were fitted.

These were not popular, so the enlightened congregation commissioned the glass artist Laurence Whistler (1912-2000) to design new panes of engraved glass. These were installed between 1955 and 1987, although, after some controversy about the design, the window featuring Judas was not actually installed until 2013.

James Hamilton created another landscape ornament of a very different kind. In 1808 he designed the chalk figure of George III on horseback that is a feature of the hillside at Osmington, near Weymouth.

The obelisk is on private land, but can be seen from the road into Moreton. The church is very welcoming. The Osmington horse can be seen from the A353 north-east of Weymouth (although at the time of writing it is easy to miss as the chalk has washed away and it is a grey shape on the hillside).

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In 1840 the foundation stone was laid for a column on the Brocklesby estate which can be found near Grimsby, in Lincolnshire. Eventually reaching a height of 130 feet, it could soon be seen from miles around. The plantations surrounding it have long since matured, and today you have to look a little harder to find what became known as Pelham’s Pillar.

Charles Anderson (1749-1823) succeeded to the Brocklesby estate of his great uncle, Charles Pelham, in 1763, and added the Pelham name to his own. Pelham, created Baron Yarborough in 1794 greatly improved the vast estate, ornamentally and productively, with advice from Lancelot ‘Capability’ Brown.

Building work on his monument was begun by his son, Charles Anderson Pelham (1781-1846), created 1st Earl of Yarborough in 1837, and the column commemorates the 12,532,700 trees planted by his father between 1787 and his death in 1823. Construction was completed by his son, Charles (1809-1862), 2nd Earl of Yarborough, after he succeeded in 1846.

The architect was Edward James Willson (1787-1854) of Lincoln and the builder was Mr Tomlin of Grantham (probably John Tomlin, stonemason). Work was well underway by 1844 when ‘many workmen’ were reported to be on site. By 1845 it was rising above the trees and visible from boats on the Humber. The urn was fixed on the top in autumn 1847, and by 1848 it was said to be ‘now completed’. The lions that guard the entrance were carved by William Day Keyworth (1817-1897) of Hull.

The inscription on the column gives 1849 as the official opening date and one of the first to see the new column was Prince Albert, who was staying at Brocklesby in April 1849 when on official business in Grimsby (noting Albert’s visit to Lincolnshire in her diary, Queen Victoria wrote ‘I always miss him terribly when he leaves me’).

The Prince was driven around the park, where large groups gathered hoping to catch a glimpse of the royal visitor. Elizabeth Dixon, a local farmer’s wife, watched the procession from the Newsham Lodge and then followed the Prince to the pillar where she had ‘an excellent view of the whole party’.

Even before it was complete the pillar had become not just a landmark for travellers on the roads and river, but a prominent spot for the Earl of Yarborough’s hounds to assemble before the chase.

Brocklesby was already home to other ornaments, including a garden temple, a hermitage and an exquisite mausoleum of 1787. In 1844 it was noted that visitors were welcomed into the park. There they could ‘wander in extensive and beautiful plantations’ and take refreshments in a woodland cottage ‘built in the Swiss style’ which stood near the rising column. In 1885 the Brocklesby estate was described in a tourist guide as a ‘place of holiday resort’, with the pillar and the Swiss Cottage amongst the highlights.

Unfortunately some of these tourists were not on their best behaviour, and in 1849 the estate office offered an ultimatum: if the carving of names in trees and the disfiguring of seats did not stop, then access to the park would be limited. The announcement continued that in future access to Pelham’s Pillar and the mausoleum would be by ticket only, obtainable on application to the estate office. Once access to the column had been gained, the message was reiterated on a plaque requesting that persons visiting the pillar refrain from writing or cutting their names or ‘otherwise disfigure the walls’.

For generations the men of the Jackson family, who lived at Pelham Pillar Lodge, were both woodsmen for the adjacent plantations and custodians of the monument. Their address was often abbreviated, making it appear that the family inhabited the column itself:

Happily the behaviour of the visitors must have improved, and the estate continued to allow access. In 1889 the Primitive Methodists met at the pillar for a bank holiday gathering, perhaps tempted along by the ‘meat tea’ that was provided. In that same year, a local cycling club visited Pelham’s Pillar and the Swiss Cottage with their ‘wives, sisters, and lady friends’. Fear not any frail female readers alarmed at this exertion: the ladies were ‘conveyed in wagonettes’.

But sadly history repeats itself: in the late twentieth century the Brocklesby estate created a popular permissive path which took in a number of the monuments, many of which had been restored. In 2021 it was announced that the route was to be permanently closed after several incidents of ‘anti-social behaviour’. Pelham’s Pillar too is out of bounds, but it can be glimpsed through trees (in winter)  from the adjoining road.

The Flâneuse climbed the tower many years ago when public access was allowed, but has no decent photographs, so thanks to the Garden Historian for the photo of the lions, and to Mike Booth of M.A.B. Media for the title image and the view above. His excellent film showing the detail of the architecture and the landscape setting of the column is well worth a look and can be found by clicking here.

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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.

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts are always welcome – simply scroll down to the foot of the page to find the comments box.

In October 1834 workmen discovered a dungeon, or cell, when digging for stone on Market Hill in Hedon, in that part of the East Riding of Yorkshire known as Holderness. It was ‘several yards square’ with stone walls, and ‘a few remnants of military trappings’. James Iveson, an antiquary of the town, took possession of stone from the chamber and removed it to his nearby home. There he already had a hoard of carved stone, salvaged from the remodelling or demolition of churches in Hedon and beyond, and he used these fragments to create a sham tomb in his garden.

To tell the tale the Flâneuse is delighted to be joined by Holderness historian and writer Lucy Brooke…

The mausoleum purports to be that of Albina, a fictional niece of William the Conqueror. The tale (succinct version) goes that in the eleventh century William rewarded Drogo de la Bevrière (there are variant spellings), a loyal follower, with the title of Earl of Holderness and the hand of his niece in marriage. His bride, Albina, was a ‘young lady of extraordinary beauty’, but Drogo was an insanely jealous man, and he accused Albina of infidelity. Although she was proved innocent, Drogo poisoned her and left her to die in a dungeon. When her ’emaciated remains’ were eventually discovered, and Drogo was found to have fled, the local populace razed his castle to the ground.

Not content with simply erecting a sham tomb, Iveson (1770-1850) even commissioned a play telling the story of the doomed Albina. His chosen playwright was the prolific writer John Galt (1779-1839), but the two men were not acquaintances, and it is not known why Iveson chose Galt. Iveson sent him a set of illustrated notes, and this document (a brilliant find by Lucy) gives a firm date of 1834 for the construction of the tomb. The notes were accompanied by ‘three beautiful illustrative sketches’: the tomb, Hedon’s church of St Augustine, and an imagined view of Drogo’s castle in Holderness.

Galt was bed-bound when Iveson’s proposal arrived, but having read the outline with ‘thrilling interest’, he completed The Demoniack of Holderness: an Historical Drama in Three Acts in six sittings, and sent it to Iveson in November 1836. Although largely true to Iveson’s outline, for dramatic effect Galt has Drogo murder Albina with his sword when she refuses to drink a cup of poison.

The document tells that the ‘pilasters, columns and the segments of the front of the arch’ of the folly had only travelled across the road from St Augustine’s church when it was renovated. The floor, front walls and wings were built of stones from the excavated dungeon on Market Hill.

Iveson’s notes record that the two figures of King Athelstan and St John the Bishop were taken from the east end of Beverley Minster when ‘two modern figures of these personages were substituted’. Modern carvings added to Albina’s tomb included ivy leaves, a pun on Iveson’s name.

Iveson died in 1850 and Ivy House (as it had became known during his period of residence) became home to another historian, Godfrey Richard Park (1818-1907). Park wrote of ‘the pleasure and interest attending visits to the abodes and sepulchres of our ancestors’, so Albina’s tomb was in safe hands, and it was probably Park who extended it into a considerable garden room, as shown below. Park was the author of a history of the town, published in 1895. The volume included a few lines of verse about the tomb which begin:

Within a cell a corpse was found
Which told to all the lady’s doom,
And now, upon that spot of ground
Is built an arch, ‘Albina’s Tomb’.

Park opened his garden for charity events and in 1894 ‘The Ruins’ were ‘utilised for the Vicar’s stall’ at the Hedon Bazaar. The local paper noted that the vicar shared the space with the ladies of the town’s Sewing Meeting, although sadly it is not recorded what wares he and the ladies were selling. Rather more exotic was the fortune teller who had set up stall near the re-erected ecclesiastical fragments called the arcade. This sage had travelled ‘all the way from Egypt’ or, as the reporter thought more likely, ‘somewhere else’.

The enlarged tomb was still standing in the 1980s, but by the time the present owner, Greg Butterworth, bought Ivy House in 2016 the upper section had collapsed, the tomb was completely hidden in a dense web of ivy and thorns, and the interior was filled with rubble.

With Lucy’s help this has since been cleared, and the collapsed masonry rescued for safekeeping, but the folly (grade II) remains fenced-off until funds are available for further consolidation. But the tomb does have regular visitors – the ghosts of Albina and Drogo are said to haunt the ruin.

The gardens were also home to a rustic tea-house (only the tiled floor survives) as well as the arcade mentioned above. This was a substantial structure built out of fragments of masonry from churches in the district. It too has been rescued from the brambles and awaits further research and restoration.

Ivy House (grade II), a handsome red-brick Georgian residence, is a private home but the garden is opened regularly for Heritage Open Days in September.

There are no records of The Demoniack of Holderness being performed in Iveson’s lifetime, but a manuscript copy survives in Hull History Centre should anyone wish to bring it to the stage. Thanks to Martin Craven, Greg Butterworth and the team at Hull History Centre for their help with this post.

Lucy writes about the history of Holderness at her new website theholdernesshistorian.com

Thank you for reading. Your thoughts are always welcome – scroll down to the comments box to get in touch. If you would like a complimentary folly story in your inbox on Saturday mornings please visit the ‘subscribe’ page.

In March 1863 Sir Tatton Sykes, 4th baronet, died at Sledmere, his seat in Yorkshire. Almost immediately there were calls for a monument to his memory, and a committee was formed to oversee the project and solicit subscriptions. Various sites were considered, and a competition launched to find the perfect design. Early in 1865 a site high on Garton Hill was decided upon, and the chosen architect, John Gibbs, visited Yorkshire to see the location before the foundation stone was laid.

Sykes (1772-1863) was a pioneering farmer, enriching the soil of the wolds with bone manure made to his own formula. His principal passions were horse racing and fox hunting and he was known as a great host, but also as something of an eccentric. He lived a spartan lifestyle, and expected his wife and children to do the same; he drove his own sheep to market (and as a talented boxer he could fight off any rowdies along the way) and as shown below he continued to wear the costume of an earlier generation throughout his life.

The Illustrated London News began its obituary of Sir Tatton with the story that a Yorkshireman was once asked what was worth seeing in his county. His response was ‘York Minster, Fountains Abbey and Sir Tatton’. Thousands are said to have attended his funeral at Sledmere in 1863.

The competition to design the monument attracted over 150 entries of ‘obelisks, columns, and towers in great variety of style and ornamentation’. The designs were all displayed in a Driffield school-room for two weeks, during which time the committee deliberated and ‘gratified spectators’ called in to peruse the works.

The favoured entry was by John Gibbs (1826-?), an Oxford born architect who had been lauded for his design for the famous Banbury Cross, erected in 1859 to mark the marriage of the Princess Royal, Queen Victoria’s eldest daughter.

The committee was particularly impressed that Gibbs had included a carving of Sykes in his natural habitat – the hunting field. The finished design was featured in The Builder magazine in April 1865, and reached a wider general audience in the pages of the Illustrated London News. As Barbara Jones wrote in Follies and Grottoes (1953) it is ‘so encrusted with detail that description is impossible’, so the editors of both of the contemporary magazines must have been delighted to be sent an illustration.

The foundation stone was laid by Lord Hotham in May 1865, using a ceremonial trowel made for the occasion by a Hull silversmith. The contractors were Messrs Simpson and Malone of Hull, and the ‘celebrated sculptor’ William Forsyth (1833-1915) of Worcester was commissioned to model the figures. Despite gales which threatened to blow down the scaffolding, the final stone was placed on 1 December 1865, although setbacks with the sculpture delayed the inauguration ceremony until November 1866.

The principal inscription remembers that the local populace ‘loved [Sykes] as a friend and honoured him as a landlord’.

The chosen site stood on top of ancient entrenchments, and as work came to a close in 1866 the workmen levelling the ground discovered a number of skeletons. A ‘zealous architect’ by the name of Mortimer hurried to the scene to record the find, and eventually found more than forty graves.

John Gibbs continued to work as an architect and published a number of books on the subject, as well as a novel. In the early 1870s he moved to Leamington Spa and his known history seems to come to a strange end in 1880. In that year the ‘travelling architect’ was in court in Warwick on a charge of entering a property without ‘reasonable excuse’. According to the press reports he was trying to escape a man to whom he owed money, but the newspapers featured two conflicting conclusions: one stated that he was fined 3 shillings, and the other that he was acquitted. Whatever the truth of the matter, after a distinguished career Gibbs seems to disappear without trace.

The monument (grade II) was was damaged by a gale in 1982 but was quickly restored. It stands alongside the B1252 between Garton on the Wolds and Sledmere, and the exterior can be viewed at anytime. The interior can be viewed by prior arrangement with the Sledmere estate office.

Sledmere village and the grounds of Sledmere House are home to a range of wonderful ornaments built in the eighteenth, nineteenth and twentieth centuries. For more on the house, gardens and park click here.

Your thoughts are very welcome. Scroll down to the foot of the page to find the comments box. Thanks for reading.

In rural Northumberland an elegant stone column rises in a field. A passer-by would guess it to be an eighteenth century ornament, and they would be right: work to erect it was completed in 1786. But it was not built in Northumberland, where it has stood for a mere century. The monument actually started its life at Felbridge in Surrey, some 350 miles to the south.

The monument was commissioned by James Evelyn (1718-1793) of Felbridge Place, in Surrey, from the architect Sir John Soane, whose original designs show a fluted column. This was rejected in favour of a plain column, but this tweak to the design would still keep the stonemason busy: the shaft carries a Latin eulogy to Evelyn’s parents, and is also inscribed with the 13 verses of Joseph Addison’s Hymn to Gratitude — or rather 14 verses as the penultimate verse was added to Addison’s original. The story goes that a local clergyman felt 13 verses was inappropriate and added one of his own. The drum is carved with the motto Manners Makyth Man and is encircled by a snake swallowing its own tail, representing eternity. Just two years after its completion The Honorable John Byng passed by and noted the ‘extraordinary monumental obelisk’.

The serpent gave rise to the local legend that the monument was erected to mark the spot where two people and a horse were killed by an enormous snake. A local reporter called the story ‘absurd’, and was bewildered that it was ‘firmly believed in by many local people’

The Felbridge Place estate changed hands a number of times after Evelyn’s death. In 1924 it was on the market once more, with the ‘memorial column’ included in the deal. A year later a diarist in a local paper wrote that the column was deteriorating rapidly, and that if something wasn’t done soon the top of the ‘grand piece of stonework’ would come ‘crashing down’. He ended with a question: ‘will not the owner of the estate show sufficient interest to have it repaired?’ In short, no, they wouldn’t, as the land was destined for lucrative housing development.

But someone who did show an interest was Stephen Aitchison (1863-1942) who had recently bought and restored Lemmington Hall, near Alnwick in Northumberland. History does not seem to record how Aitchison learned about the monument, but he purchased it and the plot of land on which it stood. The monument was dismantled in February 1927, and a local paper reported that ‘while deeply regretting that there was so little public-spiritedness in the village of Felbridge that this beautiful obelisk was not acquired and preserved in situ, it is gratifying to know that it is not to be demolished but is to grace northern instead of southern England’.

The dismantled monument was then moved north to be re-erected as an object in the park at Lemmington. Writing in Country Life in 1978, Margaret Hudson states that the work was completed in 1928 at a cost of £1,470.

It is appropriate that Aitchison was erecting a monument to gratitude in 1928, for the New Year Honours list of that year bestowed upon him a knighthood (he would be created a baronet in 1938). Although some of the lettering on the monument was recut after it was moved north, the family appear to have added no words of their own.

And now a confession: the Flâneuse did not see the column at close quarters as the field in which it stands was home to a herd of boisterous beasts. Hence the slightly blurry image above, taken from the edge of the field. But the excellent Geograph website saved the day with this image:

Meanwhile, the Uncouth Companion was earning his wings as a trainee drone pilot:

In 1995 Felbridge Parish Council began to consider how to mark the Millennium. One suggestion was that the column be returned to its original home. It is unlikely that anyone took this suggestion very seriously, as the cost would have been enormous (even assuming that the then owner had agreed to part with it). Unsurprisingly, the column (grade II*) remains in its northern home.

And as if the lovely column wasn’t treat enough, after viewing the column you can turn and look to Lemmington Branch, a castellated hilltop folly (history yet to be investigated) now converted into a very smart house.

When James Evelyn, the original builder of the monument, wasn’t commissioning fine monuments he was carrying out good works. As well as founding a village school he established the splendidly named Beef and Faggot Charity which ensured that the poorer members of his local community were cared for. There’s an account of the charity, which continues today, here.

You can read the whole of the hymn featured on the column here.

Lemmington Hall was leased for many years to a convent, but was sold by the Aitchison family early this century. It has recently been renovated as a wedding venue.

Thank you for reading. Comments and thoughts are always welcome – scroll down to the foot of the page to get in touch.

Most of the structures featured in these pages decorate vast estates or landscapes, or at least substantial gardens. But the sculpture pictured here is something a little different – it started life as a project for men building a reservoir, and later spent many years ornamenting a quiet garden in a Yorkshire village. It is a scale model of the dam and valve tower at Angram Reservoir, north of Pateley Bridge in the old West Riding of Yorkshire, and was built by two of the masons who worked on the construction of the reservoir.

Angram was one of a string of reservoirs built in remote spots along the course of the river Nidd in the early years of the twentieth century. The water was to supply the prosperous city of Bradford: by constructing the reservoirs on high ground, gravity would allow the water to flow to the treatment works on the edge of the city without the need of pumps.

The model was made by the father and son team of Robert Drummond (1844-1920) and his son Duncan (1883-1942) whenever they had some spare time. The 1911 census shows that both men lived with their wives and families on site at Angram, in the specially-constructed ‘temporary village’ for workers constructing the reservoir and massive stone dam.

Although there was a reading and recreation room on site, there must have been little to do in such a ‘wild, solitary spot’, and construction of the scale replica kept the men busy when not at work.

The model was first erected on land near where the Drummonds lived in the temporary housing shown in the background of the photograph above (which the workers christened ‘Angram Terrace’). According to the date stone it was completed in 1913, although the tower on the actual dam carries the date 1916.

The village was cleared when work on the reservoir was complete. The model was then moved to stand outside Bradford Corporation’s Water Works at Chellow Heights, but was threatened with destruction when the works were modernised in the 1970s. It was rescued by the Drummond family and moved to the garden of one of the family in East Morton, near Keighley in West Yorkshire.

There it remained for many years until the house was to be sold, and a new home for the model was required. Robert and Duncan Drummond’s descendants approached the Nidderdale Museum, in Pateley Bridge, to ask if they might find some space to display it: the museum is the perfect home as it already tells the history of the building of the reservoirs. With financial support from Yorkshire Water, the model was restored by monumental masons H.A. Green of Ripon, and moved to stand outside the museum. In summer 2023 the Lord Mayor of Bradford, performed the ceremony to welcome what is now known as the Angram Monument to Pateley Bridge.

In 1921 work began to construct Scar House, an even larger reservoir further down the valley (where Duncan Drummond was also employed). The Chairman of Bradford Council’s Waterworks Committee was Lt Colonel Anthony Gadie, and not everyone supported his decision to invest so much money in the reservoirs. Scar House Reservoir became known as Gadie’s Folly, but Bradford’s naysayers were forced to eat (or rather drink) their words when the city had ample water in periods of drought later in the century. The reservoirs continue to serve the people of Bradford and district today.

There is a circular walk to Angram and Scar Top reservoirs from the Yorkshire Water car park near the village of Lofthouse.

Visit the Nidderdale Museum in Pateley Bridge to learn about the construction of the reservoirs (and much more).

Thank you for reading, and as ever do please get in touch to share any thoughts or further information.

Travellers on the M6 might have called in to Hilton Services to break their journey. Few will know that only a few fields away stands a tall prospect tower, although they may have caught a glimpse of it from the motorway. The belvedere was built in the middle of the eighteenth century by Henry Vernon of Hilton Park in commemoration of the taking of Portobello in 1739.

Hilton Park, ancient seat of the Vernon family, was remodelled in the early decades of the eighteenth century. It stood within a moat and was surrounded by an extensive park in which the Portobello Tower was erected by Henry Vernon (1718-1765) in commemoration of Admiral Vernon’s taking of Portobello (or Porto Bello) in Panama in November 1739. Admiral Vernon was declared a hero for taking the enemy unawares and capturing the important port with a tiny fleet of only six ships.

In the nineteenth century some texts claimed that Henry Vernon was Admiral Vernon’s nephew, but he was in fact a distant relative. Henry Vernon may have appreciated that the Admiral was his namesake, but the tower seems to have been built as a patriotic act to commemorate a naval hero rather than an immediate member of his family.

The fullest description of how the monument came to be is on the tower itself, as recorded by Historic England. A plaque announces that:

THIS TOWER WAS ERECTED BY
HENRY VERNON OF HILTON PARK
BORN 13th SEPTEMBER 1718, DIED 1765
TO COMMEMORATE THE TAKING OF PORTOBELLO
WITH SIX SHIPS OF THE LINE NOV 22nd 1739 BY
ADMIRAL VERNON
BORN 12th NOVEMBER 1684. DIED 1757.
IN 1763 A MONUMENT WAS ERECTED TO
ADMIRAL VERNON IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY
A.L.V. 1911

However, as the final line makes clear, that inscription was added by Augustus Leveson Vernon in 1911, perhaps replacing a degraded earlier inscription, and it seems impossible to discover what, if anything, was recorded on the tower before that date. Finding earlier sources of information is not easy – especially as no-one seems to agree on a name for the building, with variants including Vernon Tower, Hilton Monument and Portobello Tower.

At the time of the naval victory Henry Vernon was on the Grand Tour. It is unlikely that work on the tower started until at least 1741, as Vernon was still in Florence in September 1740. Assuming that the inscription is correct, then work must have been complete before Henry Vernon died in 1765. The first pictorial evidence for the monument (found to date) is a map dated 1796 which has a charming little view of the tower.

William Pitt describes Hilton Park in his A Topographical History of Staffordshire, published in 1817. He wrote that the grounds are ‘very pleasant and secluded’ and notes that the ‘Hilton Monument is erected on the highest eminence in the grounds’, but sadly he adds nothing of its history.

Later nineteenth century guides and histories agree that the tower commemorates Admiral Vernon’s success at Portobello, and describe the ‘magnificent landscape that can be seen from the summit’ of the ‘very pretty landmark’. In the first half of the century it is noted as the ‘Vernon Monument’, but later in the century it has become the ‘Vernon Tower’, and this is echoed on the Ordnance Survey maps: on the 1834 and 1886 maps it is ‘The Monument’, but on the 1900 map it has become ‘The Tower’.

In 1955 the Vernon family sold the mansion and surrounding parkland to Sidney Pickard, a local businessman. Pickard’s plan was to build a new house in the grounds and exploit the minerals on the estate. He wasn’t interested in the fine mansion, and in 1958 he sold it to nuns from the Order of St Joseph of Bordeaux who planned to run a ‘guest house’ for elderly people. As well as pocketing the cash from the sale, the canny Pickard was counting on the nuns reviving the walled gardens and keeping him and his family supplied with produce. Pickard became unpopular after closing off paths which had long been considered rights of way, but which he asserted were private. It would appear he won the argument, as no public footpaths pass anywhere near the tower today.

A visitor in the 1950s was saddened by the encroaching industry, but could still admire the view from the house. Across the moat (still full of water at that date) was a panorama of ‘lawns, rhododendron banks, silver green cornfields and the Portobello Tower in a grove of trees’.

Although Barbara Jones had been told about the tower, she didn’t manage to see it before she published the second edition of Follies & Grottoes in 1974. Had she visited, she would have found the battlements gone and the tower in a poor condition, as shown above. The nuns left Hilton Hall in 1984 and the house was later used as a Head Office by Tarmac. It is now home to serviced offices and meeting rooms.

Meanwhile the surrounding parkland had remained in separate ownership, and the monument was left to decline. The tower (Grade II), which is built of stone around a brick core, is now roofless and in a poor condition.

Barbara Jones concluded that the tower ‘might’ be visible from the M6. Today Hilton Park sits in a triangle of land bordered by the M6, the M54 and a minor road, and as the motorways are somewhat busier than in Jones’s day the Flâneuse suggests that one only tries to spot the tower if one is a passenger. The tower stands on private land, and there is no pedestrian access, although it can be seen from the grounds of Hilton Hall. The best view you will get is in this YouTube film.

Another ornamental structure in Hilton Park has been restored. The delightful domed conservatory stands in the gardens close to the house, and is supported by a central column that houses a chimney.

Thanks to Nicholas Kingsley, author of the Landed Families blog, which investigates the landowning families of the British Isles, for confirming the distant family link between Henry Vernon and the Admiral.

Hilton Hall now provides serviced offices and meeting rooms.

As ever, your thoughts and further information are most welcome. There’s a comments box at the foot of the page. Thank you for reading.

The gruesome tale is told that William Wallace, the famed Scottish soldier, stood on Barnweil Hill, near Tarbolton in Ayrshire, and watched as the barns in which he had trapped English soldiers were set alight. He is supposed to have uttered the words ‘The barns o’Ayr burn weel’, giving the spot its name. Few people seem to have genuinely believed this story, but in 1854 the decision was taken to erect a tower on the hilltop to commemorate ‘the matchless Sir William Wallace’.

Wallace led his country’s rebellion against the English, including a great victory at Stirling Bridge in 1297. But in 1305 he was captured, pronounced guilty of treason and executed in London. He became a national hero in his homeland, and ever since has personified Scottish patriotism.

One of his greatest admirers was William Patrick of Roughwood, near Beith, a ‘patriotic Ayrshire gentleman’. He gave the funds to build the tower, which was erected on land given ‘with hearty concurrence’ by Brigadier General Smith Neil of Swinridgemoor. Superintending the building work was William Dobie, a local antiquary and poet who is credited with the design of the tower. Dobie was also responsible for the ‘greater number of the many spirited inscriptions on the monument’ (of which more in a moment).

In the first days of August 1855 preparations were being made for laying the foundation stone. The mason, Robert Snodgrass Snr, and his team must have cracked on as within three weeks the tower was already over 20 feet high. Stone slabs were set into three faces of the tower ready for the encomiastic inscriptions composed by Dobie. As there are hundreds of words on the three panels the Flâneuse does not intend to transcribe them here, but in summary they list Wallace’s great military victories and commend his leadership in throwing off the ‘yoke of foreign oppression’ and maintaining the ‘independence and nationality of Scotland’.

In 1899 the two remaining trustees of the tower handed it into the care of Ayr Town Council, along with a ‘small sum of money for maintenance’. The tower was at that date described as ‘badly out of repair’, so the funds were presumably soon depleted. Historically, there was access to the rooftop viewing platform with its magnificent panorama, but this is now limited to occasional open days.

The exterior of the tower (listed at Category A) can be seen at any reasonable time, and unlike many a hilltop tower there is a narrow road right up to it for those who don’t fancy the climb.

As a plaque on site notes, the Barnweil Tower is ‘one of a series of Wallace monuments built throughout the country in the nineteenth century’.

Among them is the national monument to Wallace, which stands in Stirling. It was first proposed in 1851, but progress was slow and the foundation stone was not laid until 1861. A funding crisis in 1863 threatened to leave the unfinished tower as ‘one of Scotland’s follies’, but the promoters did not give up, and the opening ceremony was held, at last, in 1869.

But by far the most dramatic of the memorials is the wonderful statue of Wallace high above Dryburgh Abbey in the Borders. Erected in around 1814 it stands a monumental 31 feet (9.44m) tall.

Your thoughts and comments are always welcome: the comments box can be found at the bottom of the page. Thanks for reading.

It is hard to find a town or village in Ayrshire that doesn’t have a monument to Robert Burns, but the little town of Mauchline has the honour of being home to the ‘National Burns Memorial’. Together with five cottage homes for ‘deserving people who have fallen on hard times’, the tower was built in 1896 as a memorial to the poet.

Burns (1759-1796) rented a farm near Mauchline from 1784 to 1791, and it was during this period that he produced many of his best-loved poems. He married a Mauchline girl, Jean Armour, who was known as ‘the Belle of Mauchline’.

Whilst living at Mossgiel Farm Burns would visit Mauchline and drink at Poosie Nancy’s tavern, which still stands today. Did he also pop into the town’s Syrian Barbers to have his trademark tousled locks attended to?

The competition to design the monument was won by architect William Fraser (1867-1922) and the foundation stone was laid on 23 July 1896. The crowd present was said to be 10,000 strong, and the procession of trades, guilds, clubs and the general public stretched a mile in length.

The ceremony was followed by a celebratory banquet for the V.I.P.s where the menu included ‘Scotch Haggis’ as an entrée and ‘Burns Tart’ as one of the sweet courses. The Flâneuse hasn’t been able to find a recipe to recreate this for a Burns Night supper, although it seems it may have been something like an Ecclefechan Tart which has nuts and fruit in a pastry case.

The tower became a museum housing Burns memorabilia, and visitors could climb to the top to admire the impressive panorama.

The museum is long gone, but for the last 12 or so years the tower has been home to Johnston Art, showing the work of Elaine Johnston, and if you visit when the gallery is open you might be lucky enough to be invited to climb up to the roof to admire the view (and the artworks en route).

This post will arrive with readers on Burns Night 2025, so best wishes to all who are celebrating this evening. The Folly Flâneuse and the Uncouth Companion will ‘take a cup of kindness’ and toast you all.

For lots more on Mauchline and the monument visit the Ayrshire History website.

Thanks for reading. You can get in touch with any thoughts or observations by scrolling down to the comments box at foot of the page.