It is not everyday that someone builds a seven-storey brick tower on the edge of one of the busiest and most rapidly-growing towns in Britain, especially in the middle of the eighteenth century, so one would assume that the construction of this folly would have been noticed. Birmingham was home to one of the earliest provincial newspapers – surely the curious structure made the pages? But no, the early history of the tower seems very hard to find. The building was originally referred to as the observatory, or as Perrott’s Monument, but soon became ‘vulgarly’ known as Perrott’s Folly because it was born of an ‘insane vanity’.

John Perrott (c.1704-1776) owned the Bell Hall estate at Belbroughton in Worcestershire, and also had a house in Edgbaston, then a village near Birmingham. Near his Edgbaston home, in rural Rotton Park, he built his tower.

The first history of Birmingham was written by William Hutton and published in 1781. Hutton mentions the ‘observatory’ in passing, but makes no mention of its builder or history. William Pye made an ‘excursion round the town in the summer of 1818’ and saw the ‘observatory’. He recorded that the ‘lofty’ tower was known as the Monument and had been erected by John Perrot [sic] in ‘around 1758’: all later accounts of the tower seem to be based on this account. It was certainly extant by February 1773 when a classified advertisement in Aris’s Birmingham Gazette notes a property near ‘Mr Perrott’s Observatory’. No records have yet been found to identify the architect and craftsmen who created the tower.

It might, however, have been under constriction in 1761, when poet and landscaper William Shenstone wrote to Perrott’s neighbour Matthew Boulton suggesting that Perrott was so busy with his workmen that he was hard to see socially. Shenstone hoped that by inviting Perrott to dine on a Sunday, he could not claim to be otherwise engaged. Although this may of course have been work on Perrott’s Belbroughton estate – but a rare mention of the man is worth noting.

Although we now think of an observatory as a building from which to regard the night skies, in this period it was synonymous with belvedere, literally somewhere from which to observe the view. The upper room is beautifully decorated with ornate plasterwork, suggesting a space where one enjoyed refined refreshments whilst admiring the surrounding countryside.

It seems likely that the tower was also used to view the chase, for the surrounding countryside was used by the hunt. More fanciful are the tales that Perrott built it to give his wife a view of her childhood home in Belbroughton in Worcestershire. Or, that it was erected so Perrott could see his wife’s grave, or the home of the daughter who had married against his wishes, both also in Belbroughton. Great as these stories are, they are pure local legend: as a plaque in Holy Trinity church in Belbroughton makes clear, Perrott’s wife outlived him for many years. But more importantly, the Clent Hills block any view of Belbroughton. His son-in-law was the beneficiary of his will, so it seems unlikely that Perrott disapproved of him. But a catalogue of tall tales is particularly appropriate for this towering folly.

In the middle of the nineteenth century the ‘lofty picturesque building known as The Monument’ was offered for sale. By that date it stood in the grounds of Monument House, a ‘commodious and gentlemanly residence’, but no further information about the tower was given in the sales particulars.

In 1907 the Birmingham Mail pondered the reasons for the erection of the tower and concluded that it was for ‘convivial gatherings’. By that date the views the folly had once enjoyed had been compromised by the growth of Birmingham, now a large city. The paper commented on the contrast between the ‘crisp clear country air on one side and the thick smoky acid-laden cloud which hangs like a pall over the city on the other side’. The paper also questioned the mental stability of folly builders, concluding that the tower was ‘erected to gratify an ill-balanced mind’.

The smog was clearly not an issue for meteorological types and from the late nineteenth century until 1979 the tower was used as an observatory to record weather conditions. Emergency repairs to save the tower from collapse were carried out by Birmingham Conservation Trust, with work completed in 2005.

The tower has since had a number of uses, including as an art gallery and a party venue. Today it is home to Re.Future Collective, an arts and architecture collective formed in 2012 to ‘deliver arts, health and heritage activities to connect communities and to help address disadvantage’. Current projects include an Art Youth Club, workshops for adults experiencing loneliness or isolation and working with asylum seekers to create a mosaic for Perrott’s Folly. The collective is also actively researching the history of the tower, and paint samples are currently being analysed to see what they reveal – these are vibrant and exciting times for the folly.

It is not possible to discuss the tower (grade II*) without mentioning J.R.R. Tolkien. The author grew up in Birmingham, and fans of the Lord of the Rings trilogy believe that the folly, and the tower of the nearby waterworks, inspired The Two Towers, the second volume in the series.

Perrott’s Folly and the waterworks tower are easy to find – head to the helpfully named Waterworks Road, just off  Monument Road.

Thank you for reading. If you have any thoughts or further information you would like to share, please scroll down to find the comments box.

Hockley Abbey was built in around 1779 by Richard Ford, an ‘ingenious mechanic’, out of the waste or dross from a nearby furnace. Built in the form of a semi-ruinous monastic edifice, Ford had the date of 1473 picked out in pebbles on the front ‘as a false suggestion of antiquity’, although this was soon covered over by the ivy which he encouraged to creep all over his new home. The house was demolished in the second half of the nineteenth century, but is remembered in paintings, prose and poetry.

Mentioned in 1788 as the ‘Cynder House at Hockley’, the earliest comprehensive reference is in rhyme. In 1800 James Bisset, the custodian of Birmingham’s Museum, published a curious hybrid, which was part poem and part who’s who of Birmingham, under the snappy title of A poetic survey round Birmingham; with a brief description of the different curiosities and manufactories of the place. Intended as a guide to strangers. […] Accompanied by a magnificent directory; with the names, professions, &c. superbly engraved in emblematic plates. Bisset invited the reader to join him on a tour of the town, and there was a pause to admire Hockley Abbey and its curious construction:

Close by the LAKE’S pellucid stream, behold
A GOTHIC PILE, which seems some cent’ries old,
VULCANIC FANCY there display’d her taste,
And rear’d the fabric on the barren waste;
The FORGE materials for the work provides,
Rude cinders clothe the front – compose the sides.

The ‘abbey’ was described in detail in by Charles Pye in his Description of Modern Birmingham. According to Pye, who toured Birmingham in 1818, Ford noticed that the workers at his manufactory spent several shillings each week in the pub. Not a drinker, Ford decided to put aside two shillings each day until he had enough money to build the house. With the funds in place, his workforce were sent to collect the ‘large masses of scoriæ’ from the Aston furnace and cart it to the building site. By the time Pye saw the abbey it was covered with ivy and he wrote that the uninformed visitor would be ‘at a loss to know what substance the walls were built with’.

Ford told Pye that Hockley Abbey was built ‘without advancing any other money than the fourteen shillings a week’. This all seems a little fanciful, and it is likely that Ford had to dip into his savings to fund the improvements on his new estate.  As well as the house, with its ‘feign’d time-shook walls’, he also laid out ‘beautiful grounds and walks, interspersed with fanciful curiosities’. These included a grot decorated with spar and shells, the ‘beauteous spoils of Neptune’s realms’.

The abbey became an object of interest for tourists visiting the area (Hockley Abbey was contiguous with Mathew Boulton’s much-admired Soho estate, where a grand manufactory stood alongside his mansion with pleasure grounds). The artificial ruins built out of ‘cinders and vitrifications’ were considered by one visitor in 1799 to be in such good taste that it would be ‘illiberal to pass by without notice’.

This 1868 photograph shows Hockley Abbey shortly before it was pulled down and the site redeveloped. Hockley Abbey is best remembered today as the trademark of John Rabone & Sons of Hockley Abbey Works, Birmingham. The measuring tools that they manufactured, and in particular spirit levels, brass rulers and tape measures, are now collectors’ items.

For more follies built out of furnace waste see this post about Morris Castle, near Swansea

The Flâneuse sends best wishes to all readers for the year ahead. Thank you for your continued support. As ever, comments are very welcome via the box at the foot of the page.

In 1833 Other Archer Windsor, 6th Earl of Plymouth, died. Almost immediately there were calls to erect a monument in his honour, and a public subscription was raised. With funds in place, the foundation stone was laid in May 1834. The chosen site was on Bromsgrove Lickey, a prominent eminence which would ensure that the obelisk would be an ornament to the landscape and visible from miles around.

Other Archer Windsor, 6th Earl of Plymouth (1789-1833) had a seat at Hewell Grange, in Worcestershire, which had been in the family since the middle of the 16th century, and he seems to have been well-respected locally. Announcing his death in London in July 1833, having just turned 44, Aris’s Birmingham Gazette wrote that the ‘sudden removal of the Noble earl in the midst of life and usefulness, is no less a loss to his county than to the extensive circle and neighbourhood in which he moved’.

The appeal for funds to build a monument was led by members of his former regiment, the Worcestershire Yeomanry Cavalry, but the public were encouraged to donate. By January 1834 about £800 had been collected, and the committee agreed to procure designs and estimates (almost £1000 would be collected in total). The site, on the late earl’s land, was chosen for its ‘elevation and contiguity to the Hewell demesne’.

The foundation stone of the obelisk was laid by Lord Lyttleton of Hagley Hall, Lord Lieutenant of Worcestershire, on Thursday 15 May 1834 and a print was issued showing the proposed design. Lyttleton recorded the occasion in his diary, noting the ‘pretty’ design of the monument.

William Bain designed a medal to commemorate the occasion with the inscription Plaudente et Lucente Comitatu – with the approbation and honour of his county. The laying of the foundation stone is noted on the north side of the obelisk, and on the south is the following inscription:

Loudon’s Architectural Magazine announced that the obelisk was to stand 91 feet and 6 inches tall, and was to be built of Anglesey marble. The magazine gave the architect as John Hanson, and the contractor as John Welch, but Hanson sounds suspiciously like the architect Joseph Aloysius Hansom, and the Worcester Journal of 15 May 1834 confirms that the obelisk was designed by Hansom and his partner Edward Welch. Their practice had won the competition to design the new Birmingham Town Hall in 1830, and that too was under construction in Anglesey stone in May 1834 when Hansom and Welch were dramatically declared bankrupt. At that point the financially embarrassed Hansom and Welch seem to have been quietly expunged from the records (the John Welch commissioned to build the monument was Edward’s brother).

The site was within a plantation of larches and firs, some of which were felled to create a broad grassy swathe which allowed ‘as good a general view of the obelisk as possible’. Lord Lyttleton’s diary suggests that the original plan was to have two broad rides to ‘shew the obelisk on its four faces’, but the idea was clearly abandoned.

Throughout the 19th century visitors were welcomed, but only if permission had been granted. In August 1872 the British Medical Association organised a ‘Worcestershire Excursion’ and having seen the ‘splendid gardens’ at Hewell Grange they went via the private drive through Lickey Woods to see the monument. Elijah Walton’s 19th century view captures the romance of the ride.

In the first half of the twentieth century land at Lickey was gradually acquired by Birmingham Corporation. The hills became a popular recreation place for the people of Birmingham and the surrounding area, with trams bringing huge numbers of visitors out of the prosperous, but polluted, city: ‘Lickey for Health, Birmingham for Wealth’ as an old saying goes.

The crumbling grade II listed monument has been patched up over the years, and in the 1950s steel bands were fitted to hold the column together – the Anglesey stone blocks were becoming detached from the hollow brick core. It was fully restored in 1995, when there was controversy over the costs. Although technically within the Hereford and Worcester boundary, the £85,000 costs were largely met by Birmingham City Council as owners of the land. ‘OUTRAGEOUS!’ hollered the headline in the Birmingham Mail when it was revealed that the project had cost ‘cash-strapped Brum’ double the expected sum of £41,000.

Sadly the vistas cut through the woods have long since become overgrown, and the obelisk stands in a clearing encircled by trees. There are no longer views over the countryside, and it has lost its function as an elegant eye-catcher. A third painting by Elijah Walton depicts the lost view from the obelisk, and shows that the Flâneuse was not the only one to visit on a dreary day

The Lickey Hills Country Park remains a popular local attraction https://www.birmingham.gov.uk/info/20089/parks/406/lickey_hills_country_park

And this website will tell you all you need to know about the area https://thelickeyhills.uk

Thanks to Michael Cousins for sharing the extracts from Lord Lyttleton’s diary

… and thanks to you for reading. If you would like to share any thoughts or memories please scroll down to the contact box at the foot of the page to get in touch.