In 1928 a new detective was introduced to readers. Her name was Maud Silver and she was as fond of knitting and quoting Tennyson as she was of solving crimes. She was the creation of Patricia Wentworth, who would go on to write thirty-two books featuring Miss Silver, including The Gazebo, which was published in the United States in 1956 and in the United Kingdom in 1958. Having called this post ‘Murder in the Gazebo’ it is a little late for a spoiler alert, and as you have no doubt guessed the garden building is the setting for key scenes, including the death at the heart of the novel.
Patricia Wentworth was the pen-name of Dora Amy Turnbull (née Elles). She was born into a military family in India in 1877, and spent much of her early life there apart from a spell at school in England. Her first husband, Lt Col George Dillon, was in the Indian Army and their daughter was born in Peshawar, Pakistan, in 1903. Lt Col Dillon died in 1906 and his widow and daughter returned to England: ‘Patricia Wentworth’ started to publish stories and novels soon after. She married another military man, Lt Col George Turnbull in 1920 and he encouraged his wife’s career – apparently she dictated the stories to him.
It was not until she was in her early fifties that Patricia Wentworth first published a Miss Silver novel: Grey Mask appeared in 1928 with Miss Silver introduced as ‘A Sleuthess’ who could teach ‘old Sherlock’ a thing or two. The last of the thirty-two stories appeared in April 1961, a few months after her death on 28 January.
We are told that the fictional summerhouse which appears in The Gazebo was originally built as a belvedere in the landscaped garden of Grove Hill House. The grounds were sold for housing development in the late nineteenth century, and the gazebo now stands on high ground in the garden of a Victorian villa. The octagonal structure is described as having been built in around 1750, so perhaps it looked a little like the Temple of Victory at Allerton Mauleverer in Yorkshire.
The Flâneuse won’t reveal the plot, but it was, thought the reviewer for the Illustrated London News, ‘rather a corny motive, but a nice story’.
The Gazebo was generally well-received, with the critic at The Sphere hailing it as ‘indubitably’ the thriller of the week. Miss Wentworth was, he continued, ‘as neat a practitioner of the detective-story and slyly understated clue as one is likely to meet in a day’s march through a lending library’.
The Western Daily Mail critic seems to have invented a whole new literary genre when he wrote that it was a ‘good offering for those who like a bit of everything that can go on in a gazebo’.
It seems that the publishers thought that some readers would not understand the word ‘gazebo’, so there was an alternative edition entitled The Summerhouse. Which brings us to the great unsolved mystery of where the word ‘gazebo’ originated. According to the Oxford Companion to the Garden it is ‘jokey Anglo-Latin’ for ‘I shall look about’, but other sources suggest it is simply a corruption of ‘gaze about’ or that it was borrowed from an Arabic word. Whatever the etymology, it was in use in the sense of a belvedere, or a summerhouse with a view, by the middle of the eighteenth century. In 1741 Wetenhall Wilkes published a poem with the lines:
Upon the painful summit of the height
A gay Gazebo does our Steps invite.
From this, when favour’d with a Cloudless Day,
We fourteen Counties all around survey.
Wentworth’s novels were published in translation: in France the novel was called Le Belvédère and in German Tod Im Sommerhaus.
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Colin says:
….and of course Broadway Tower was also the location of another fictional murder, solved by a certain Father Brown! Thanks for another fascinating Folly!
Editor says:
Good morning Colin. I’d forgotten about that. I must revisit. Thanks for the prompt!
Gwyn Headley says:
Splendid research on the book jackets! I LURV kozy krime written by middle-aged, middle class English ladies, so I rushed on to Libby to borrow this from my local library. Sadly the only Patricia Wentworth they had on offer is ‘A Marriage Under The Terror’, which is not quite the thing. So I looked for ‘The Gazebo’, and found the following:
The Gazebo, by Glen A Mills
The Gazebo, by Alexander Lebenstein
The Gazebo, by Guy Portman
and
The Corpse in the Gazebo, by Debra Sennefelder.
So that’s my reading sorted for the next few weeks.
OED says the first noted use of the word in English was in 1752: The Elevation of a Chinese Tower or Gazebo. W. Halfpenny & J. Halfpenny, New Designs Chinese Bridges iv. 2, so your Wetenhall Wilks quote precedes that.
Editor says:
Afternoon Gwyn. Oh dear, I can feel my reading pile growing too. I think ‘A Marriage under the Terror’ was an early historical romance by Patricia Wentworth, before she developed her interest in detective/crime fiction. What a shame your library doesn’t have any Miss Silver stories – they deserve to be better known. Do report back on the other ‘gazebo’ novels.
Yes, I was pleased to see that the poem is earlier than the OED’s noted first use. And great to find such an early example of the ‘xx counties visible’ folly boast.
Kate Dyson says:
Making a sculpture is a wonderful way of Preserving the memory of a precious and ancient tree. Over the years, wonderful chain saw sculptures have been appearing in the well known gardens at Ramster, near Chiddingfold in Surrey, the newest is a splendid dragon bench made from a huge fallen redwood.
The Cirencester Park folly gazebo is especially fine. Well found!
Kate
Editor says:
Good morning Kate. I will put the Ramster gardens on my ‘must visit’ list. I’m told that the rest of the cedar will be put to good use on the estate. Hope you are enjoying the sunshine. 🌞
Kate Dyson says:
Ramster is a beautiful garden, best seen at azalea and rhodie time, but lovely in Autumn too. It celebrated its 100th birthday last year. If you need a cuppa, they have an excellent tea house/cafe. It’s not open all year, so best to check. You will find several chain saw sculptures around the garden, but alas no ancient folly!
Happy summer back!
Kate Dyson says:
Tried to reply to your reply. It told me I had already replied and refused to send a second message. Maybe it will work this time as long as I don’t mention Ramster Garden!
Kate Dyson says:
Ah! It sent it after all!!!!
Editor says:
Hello Kate. I think there must have been a glitch as the comment appeared under last week’s post. But safely received, and appreciated as ever.