The tower on Leith Hill was erected in the 1760s by Richard Hull. The hillside wasn’t actually his property, but his home was nearby and he leased the plot from the landowners, the Evelyn family of nearby Wotton. It became a popular attraction and in 1790 it was said that the view from the tower was ‘esteemed equal, if not superior, to any in the kingdom’. Hull was so fond of his tower that he designated it as his mausoleum.
From the very start Hull, who lived at Leith Hill Place, intended the tower to be a public amenity to be enjoyed by ramblers and day-trippers. A plaque was placed above the entrance and, in summary, the Latin inscription recorded that the tower was built for the prospect, which Hull wished to be enjoyed by all.
Hull died in 1772 leaving an extraordinarily detailed will in which he gave some ‘further direction’ for his executors, setting out how he wished to be laid to rest. He desired to be buried in a very private ceremony, with only his servants present, ‘in a Grave made for me under my Tower on Leith Hill’. A plaque recorded his death as having taken place on 18 January 1772 and stated that he had purchased ‘Leith-hill Place’ for his retirement where he lived as a ‘true Christian and rural Philosopher’.
Soon after Hull’s death the tower was allowed to decay and, ‘accelerated by the hands of the mischievious’, the interior was stripped leaving the tower a shell. In 1788 the antiquarian and traveller William Bray told an audience how sorry he was to find that the tower was ‘already become a ruin’. Although the plaque on the tower gives a date of 1766, it has clearly been recut at some point (the stone has eroded but it appears to give the date of construction in a bizarre combination of Roman and Arabic numerals as MDCC66), and Bray gives the more likely date of 1763, which is corroborated by title deeds which mention the tower in 1765.
In the last years of the eighteenth century William Perrin of Tanhurst, who then owned Leith Hill Place, had the exterior of the tower ‘thoroughly repaired’. To stop further vandalism the lower room was filled with ‘lime and rubbish’, and the entrance walled up. He also raised the height of the tower to make it ‘still more conspicuous as a sea-mark’.
In 1864 William John Evelyn of Wotton added a staircase turret to the tower so that the views from the top could once more be enjoyed by what Barbara Jones called ‘county counters’. She didn’t specify just which shires are allegedly visible from the rooftop, but in 1899 it was suggested that ‘visitors with a glass’ could see twelve counties and a circuit of 200 miles.
In the later years of the ninetenth century tourists could also enjoy teas and ginger beer provided Mrs Skilton, the custodian of the tower. After 30 years in that post, aged 72, her sight was apparently so good that she could see the dome of St Paul’s, ships in the English Channel and Windsor Castle without a telescope. She also claimed that forty churches were visible from the top of the tower. There are countless picture postcards of the tower showing the many visitors who climbed the hill, but sadly no photographs have been found showing the kangaroos that Evelyn ‘set loose’ on Leith Hill, although they apparently ‘flourished for years till gradually exterminated by ruthless individuals’.
The tower also inspired the artist Samuel Palmer (1805-1881), who could see it from his studio. He used it as a model in a number of works, including this watercolour of the ‘high lonely tower’ in Milton’s Il Penseroso
In 1922 the tower was offered for sale, and there were fears that public access would be lost. In March 1923 it was announced that ‘all lovers of rural Surrey’ would rejoice to learn that the tower, and five acres of land around it, were to be given to the National Trust, thanks to the generosity of Reigate businessman W. J. MacAndrew. The tower was restored in 1984 when workmen uncovered Hull’s tomb during the works.
Follies have appeared on stamps, stamp-books and coins, but this is the first example the Flâneuse has found of a folly on a sugar cube wrapper. At date unknown Tate+Lyle featured Leith Hill Tower on a wrapper which celebrated Surrey as the home of the Magna Carta. How many people idly stirred two lumps into their coffee without even noticing the handsome folly on the wrapper?
The tower can be climbed on certain days in the summer season, taking visitors to the highest point in the county, and there is always access to the hillside to appreciate the exterior. As early postcards show, it was a stiff climb up to the tower, but today a car park on the slope of the hill allows a gentler ascent. The wider site remains part of the Evelyn’s Wotton Estate, and public access is managed by Surrey County Council. A cafe operates from a hatch at the foot of the tower serving light refreshments (alas, no sugar cubes with a view of the tower). Leith Hill Place is also in the care of the National Trust and can be visited in the summer season. There’s more access information here.
Thank you for reading. As ever your thoughts are very welcome, as are any further examples of follies on sugar cube wrappers. Scroll down to find the comments box at the foot of the page.
Rosemary Hill says:
A particularly interesting post, even by the Flaneuse’s usual high standards, and an all too rare happy ending. Fascinating about Palmer too. That’s one of my favourite images but I had no idea of the inspiration.
Another one on my visiting list.
Editor says:
Hello Rosemary. A view of the tower was included in the ‘Samuel Palmer: Vision and Landscape’ exhibition at the British Museum in 2005. The curators noted that it was based on Leith Hill and I lodged the information in the back of my mind. Twenty years later I eventually got to see the tower – it was worth the wait. It is pleasing that Hull’s desire that his tower be enjoyed by all continues to be met.
John Davies says:
Thank you FF, a very interesting account, and lovely to have so many good illustrations. Don’t be too hard on Tate & Lyle, it looks like a lino cut to me… Certainly reduced to fit the wrapper!
Editor says:
Good afternoon John. Great to have an expert opinion on the image on the sugar wrapper – thanks for taking the time to send this information. Sadly it is hard to find information on ephemera such as this, but as ever I hope that someone reading this might know more.
TOM GARDNER says:
TOM (NYC)
10 – 4 ! … ON THE ABOVE ‘THOUGHTS’.
AS IT HAPPENS, ON ‘MY SIDE OF ‘THE POND’ – WE ARE GOING THROUGH QUITE
– ‘A TIME OF FLUX’.
SHY OF 80, KNOWING THAT THERE IS STILL A LARGE GROUP OF INDIVIDUALS
WHO APPRECIATE, AND CARE ABOUT – ‘WHAT’, ART WISE, CAME BEFORE THEM,
IS A COMFORT. (BUT THEN AGAIN, BEING A FORMER ‘ANTIQUES’ DEALER’ – IT’S NOT TOO SURPRISING I SHOULD HAVE SUCH AN OPINION).
IN THE TRUE ‘BRIT’ TRADITION … ‘CARRY – ON!’
THANKS,
TOM
Editor says:
Hello Tom from a cold and soggy England. Thanks for your continued support.
Maisie Pryor says:
I visited Leith Hill tower with my parents many times in the late ’50’s and early ’60’s. The only land mark I ever identified on the horizon was Lancing College. When I’d found it, my father would ask whether I could see the sea. I always said yes rather than disappoint him. I was much more concerned about the fact that Squire Richard Hull (you never left off the ‘Squire’) was underneath it. My imagination used to work overtime. Believe it or not in those days the slopes were heavily wooded and the tower was quite hard to find – but always open.
Editor says:
Good morning Maisie. It’s lovely to hear your memories of the tower, and thank you for the information that Hull was still known as the ‘Squire’ long after his death. I think he would be pleased to know that people are still enjoying his tower, although he might be surprised to find a cafe operating out of a ground floor window! Thanks for getting in touch.
Maisie Pryor says:
Gosh, I’d forgotten that. It was supposed to mean that, at 1,000ft tall, it was officially a mountain! I thought that was cheating.
Nigel Rush says:
Local folklore (or pub gossip?) is that the tower was built to make 965 ft Leith Hill achieve 1000 ft. Did you find any evidence of that in your comprehensive and as always fascinating search? Where would we be without your Saturday morning posts?
Editor says:
Hello Nigel. I didn’t find any evidence, although I did come across the local story that you mention. As the tower has changed in shape and height over the generations I wasn’t sure at what date (if ever) it passed the threshold of 1000 feet, so I decided to stick to it being the highest point in the county, and hope that that too isn’t a tall tale. But you are right, I should have mentioned the ‘pub gossip’, as it is those stories that make follies such fun. Thanks for the kind comments.