In the middle of the eighteenth century William Aislabie began to create a landscape garden on the banks of the River Ure, near the village of Grewelthorpe. In contrast to his grand estate at Studley, a few miles away, there were few manicured lawns or geometric pools, and instead Hackfall was a ‘sequestered and most romantic place’. Dotted around the grounds were summerhouses and shelters, including a dramatic hilltop tower called Mowbray Castle.

Word soon spread that Hackfall was a place worth seeing, and early visitors recorded their admiration for the place: ‘never was there seen a finer assemblage of wild and variegated nature’ wrote a tourist in 1785. Although visitors frequently refer to the ‘imitations of ruins’ in the pleasure grounds (there’s also a sham-ruin banqueting house), the earliest specific reference by a visitor to ‘Mowbray Castle’ found to date is from the 1780s, which tallies with an account in the archive suggesting work was ongoing in 1778.

By 1801 the gardener, who gave tours of the grounds, estimated that around two hundred parties visited each season. The Yorkshire weather was not always kind, but it didn’t spoil the experience. In 1792 Lord Torrington found ‘so much to admire, so much to celebrate’, despite the rain falling ‘in buckets’. And in 1799 another tourist wrote that he knew of no other place that gave so much pleasure’ even though it ‘rained the whole time’.

When first built Mowbray Castle could be seen from almost every spot within the pleasure grounds, and its ‘isolated situation’ was described as having an ‘extremely happy effect’. William Gilpin, whose comments on landscape were widely-read, criticised the buildings at Hackfall, but few were in agreement. In 1796, the Duke of Rutland wrote that ‘We did not find any room for censure’.

A poem written in 1859 suggested that the castle was an ancient fortification:

Now turn thy steps towards the right,
And view that grand imposing sight –
Tis Mowbray Castle, in decay,
The relics of a bygone day.

But Georgian visitors recognised it as a sham, a ‘very excellent imitation of an ancient ruin’, and praised its natural appearance.

Aislabie’s descendants sold Hackfall to a timber merchant in 1933, and much of the woodland was felled. Happily, the folly survived this period of neglect (although the short section of wall with an arch seen in the early images is lost), and was consolidated as part of a masterplan to restore the pleasure grounds and buildings after Hackfall was purchased by the Woodland Trust in 1989 (with strong support from the Hackfall Trust and other local groups). Sadly the vistas to and from the castle are now largely lost because of tree growth.

Around the time the folly was under construction a boy was born who would grow to great fame as an artist: Joseph Mallord William Turner was born on 23 April 1775, 250 years ago this week. He visited Hackfall in 1816, and later worked up one of his sketches into a watercolour now in the Wallace Collection, London.

Hackfall is in the care of the Woodland Trust and is freely accessible to walkers.

J.M.W. Turner clearly admired follies – he painted/sketched the tower at Tabley in Cheshire, Cook’s Folly near Bristol and the Gibraltar Tower in Sussex amongst many others. Click the link in red for events planned to celebrate the 250th anniversary of Turner’s birth in 1775.

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

Follies occasionally appear in literature, but seldom in works aimed at a younger readership. So it was hugely exciting to find that one of Britain’s best-loved writers of children’s fiction had featured a folly in a recent work. This year, a new work by the acclaimed writer Dame Jacqueline Wilson (100 plus books and counting) was published. The Girl Who Wasn’t There is a ghost story within a tale of family life and is beautifully illustrated by Rachael Dean. The reader is only a few pages in when young Luna and Aurora are first introduced to the dilapidated Stark’s Folly, somewhere on the south coast of England…

‘What’s a folly?’ asks Luna when she visits the tower, ‘Isn’t it something foolish?’. Her step-father, Greg, is quick to correct her, and explains that a folly is ‘an amazing building made by someone eccentric’. After years of neglect Stark’s Folly is falling apart, but it is a listed building – much to the fury of the landowner, who would very much like to reverse his tractor into it. Dreaming of sea views and a quirky home Greg snaps it up – but without asking the family first, and it is fair to say their reaction is mixed. This being Jacqueline Wilson, there are the disputes and dramas of family life, but also friendship and warmth, and whilst there is not a fairytale ending, it is a heartwarming (and spine-tingling) one.

Stark’s Folly is the product of Dame Jacqueline’s considerable imagination, beautifully brought to life by Rachael Dean, but Molly the cavapoo is real and is the author’s own dog.

Dame Jacqueline’s touching story and Rachael Dean’s enchanting illustrations will introduce a whole new generation to follies, and that can only be A Very Good Thing. The book is the perfect Christmas present for any young readers you might know (the Flâneuse is not on commission).

And proving that one is never too old to learn, the book introduced the Flâneuse to the word bungaroosh, of which Stark’s Folly is constructed (and therefore crumbling). Thanks to her bonny Brighton correspondent, the Flâneuse now knows that bungaroosh is an unusual building product. It was used almost exclusively in the Brighton area and is made of miscellaneous materials, including stones from the beach, mixed into hydraulic lime and then poured into shutters until set. It is the ‘bane of Brighton’ as it is hygroscopic and soaks up moisture from the air causing damp and collapse. The etymology of the word does not seem to be known, but as Dame Jacqueline says, it’s a ‘fantastic name’.

See the Penguin website for more on The Girl Who Wasn’t There.

And Rachael Dean’s website will tell you more about her vibrant illustrations.

Huge thanks to Dame Jacqueline Wilson and Rachael Dean for their help with this post.

Thank you for reading and please scroll down to the foot of the page if you would like to share any thoughts or comments.

Just outside Little Berkhamsted in Hertfordshire stands a lofty circular brick tower which sits on an octagonal base. It was built towards the end of the eighteenth century by the Stratton family and has, appropriately, a tall tale attached. The eye-catcher was a popular subject with artists, and a number of very pretty views survive.

Barbara Jones described the tower in Follies and Grottoes (1953) as the creation of one Admiral Stratton who wished to see the ships on the Thames: a story which had been told in print since at least 1888 (a variant story has the builder as a wealthy ship owner). As there is no possibility of seeing the Thames from the top of the tower, Jones concluded that this part of the story might be fanciful. In fact little of the tale was true, and there never was an Admiral Stratton.

In 1790 the house called Gays (sometimes The Gaze, but now The Gage) was home to John Stratton (c.1751-1811) who is said to have built the tower in 1789. He was the son of a wealthy merchant and although he was apprenticed to a London attorney in 1787, he later seems to have enjoyed life as a gentleman of independent means. Little is known about Stratton’s life. He was living in ‘Little Berkhamstead’ when he married Charlotte Lucadon in a Church of England ceremony in 1794, but he died in Bromley, Kent, in April 1811 and was buried in the nonconformist cemetery at Bunhill Fields in London.

The tower was built using bricks recycled from an earlier building which stood on the site, and in 1890 it was reported that the building cost was £3,000. Information on the date and cost seems to have been supplied by Col. John Heathfield Stratton (1837-1925), who lived at The Gage at the turn of the nineteenth century and presumably had family papers in his possession. Sadly no designer or architect’s name is ever mentioned.

A drawing in Hertfordshire Archives & Local Studies (above), executed some time before 1805, is annotated with a description of the tower. It tells that it was built ‘for a pleasure house, and has several apartments in the different stages of altitude’. The Strattons and their guests could admire the ‘fine prospects’ from the ‘flat lead roof’ behind the battlements.

Although marked on the 1856 1st series Ordnance Survey map as ‘Observatory’, at some point early in its existence the tower was given the alternative name of ‘The Monument’, and it is marked as such on the 1838 tithe map and on later Ordnance Survey maps. In 1830 there was a steeplechase to ‘the monument in Little Berkhamstead’ and the name was also used on early picture postcards. There is no explanation for the name or what the tower might commemorate.

The tower was maintained until the middle of the nineteenth century. The key was held locally and visitors were permitted to climb the tower (except on Sundays). We know there was a library on the second floor because one George Shepherd was caught stealing books from the tower in 1868. In court he confessed, admitting he planned to sell the books to ‘buy myself some bread, because I was hungry’.

By 1888 the tower was described as dilapidated. The decaying tower stayed in Stratton family ownership until the middle of the last century, and in the 1960s the then owner, architect William Tatton Brown (1910-1977), tried to get planning permission to convert the tower for residential use and save it from further decay. After a battle with Hertford Rural Council he eventually got the go-ahead, but not before one particular aspect of the case had been enjoyed by the press. In 1968 Sir Ian Orr-Ewing, Member of Parliament for Hendon North (Conservative), objected to the application stating that he sometimes sunbathed naked in his garden and did not wish to be overlooked.

A further extension has since been added to the base of the tower (listed grade II*) and it remains a private residence. The top of the tower can be seen from roads and footpaths within the village, which is understandably proud of the grade II* listed folly.

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In the middle of the 20th century books featuring the adventures of the Lockett children captured the imaginations of young readers. One title in particular appealed to the Folly Flâneuse: what ghastly goings-on could have taken place at the ‘half completed and abandoned tower’ known as Steeple Folly? And which real clifftop folly might have been the inspiration for it?

The author of this tale was Mary Evelyn Atkinson (1889-1974), who published as M.E. Atkinson. She was born in London, the daughter of a schoolmaster at Highgate School, but when a small child the family removed to Swanage in Dorset, where her father founded the Durlston Court Preparatory School in 1903. This county would provide the setting for the books in which Bill, Jane and Oliver Lockett roam, free from adult supervision, encountering one adventure after another.

Steeple Folly was published in 1950, and like the others in the series received a warm welcome in the press, with the Western Times writing that the ‘adventures of the Locketts never fail to enthrall’. Beautifully illustrated by writer and illustrator Charlotte Hough (1924-2008) the story, full of nursery teas, housemaids, and gymkhanas, was aimed at a middle-class readership: to the modern reader Atkinson comes across as a complete snob, letting her protagonists patronise the servants and sneer at children who are schooled at ‘some rotten little local outfit’. And to make matters worse she doesn’t even approve of follies! With a rather limited vocabulary she calls the tower ‘that absurd erection’, ‘absurd Steeple Folly’, ‘that stone absurdity’ and, in case anyone has missed her point, adds that at close range the ‘the folly looked positively immense- but just as absurd as ever’.

The folly is largely incidental to the plot, which won’t be explored further in case anyone wishes to read the story, but the Folly Flâneuse wondered what genuine hilltop tower might have inspired Steeple Folly. The most obvious suggestion is the Clavell Tower, aka Kimmeridge Folly, on the Dorset coast which Atkinson would have known as it is only 10 miles or so from Swanage, near the hamlet of Steeple. It is close to landmarks that feature in the book, such as the famous Blue Pool, and like Steeple Folly it is perched on an eminence with extensive views. To be clear: this is pure supposition, but it does give the Folly Flâneuse an excuse to feature this marvellous building.

The tower was built as an observatory, or belvedere, by Revd John Clavell (c.1760-1833) of Smedmore House in 1830. It continued to be a seaside retreat for his heirs, the Mansel family, and in 1852 the cannon that surrounded the tower were fired and flags hoisted to mark a family wedding. Later it served for a period as a coastguard look-out shelter, but meanwhile the soft cliffs of the Dorset coast were slowly eroding and edging ever closer to the tower.

By 1926 the tower itself was deteriorating, and in that year vandals were prosecuted for ‘dislodging and throwing down stones of which the tower is built’. In 1948 the artist John Piper wrote an essay on ‘The Nautical Style’ in which he admired the ‘absolutely sound’ condition of the ancient chapel on St Alban’s Head, in Dorset. He compared this to the Clavell Tower: ‘ a pretty but pathetic attempt at folly building on the coast, six hundred years younger than the Romanesque chapel, but crumbling to bits’.

A 1959 article in Country Life reported that the ruined Clavell Tower was now dangerously close to the edge of the cliffs. It was the tower and the adjacent perilous precipice that the author P.D. James chose as one of the settings for her 1975 murder-mystery The Black Tower, in which her fictional folly has a rather gruesome history. The tower has subsequently appeared on the cover of various editions of the book, as well as playing itself in the 1985 TV adaptation.

The tower continued to moulder until the end of the 20th century, when the Mansels of Smedmore set up the Clavell Tower Trust and took advice from English Heritage. After much analysis and discussion it was agreed that the only option was to dismantle the folly and rebuild it further inland.

This was beyond the means of the Clavell Tower Trust, and a conversation was started with the Landmark Trust to see if they could take on the project and rebuild the tower as a holiday let. The charity’s trustees were understandably concerned about the complexity of the process, but in 2002 gave ‘cautious acceptance’ to the plans. With Heritage Lottery Funding in place to augment funds from a public appeal, and donations from a vast number of charitable trusts, work began in 2006, and the first of many eager guests arrived in August 2008.

Visit the Landmark Trust’s website for details of visiting the tower on open days in September, or to find out about staying in this fabulous folly https://www.landmarktrust.org.uk/news-and-events/upcoming-events/clavell-open-day-22/

And for a full history of the tower, including the restoration, see the Landmark Trust’s excellent history album https://www.landmarktrust.org.uk/about-us/history-albums/#C

John Piper’s essay was first published in 1938 but revised in 1948 for inclusion in the anthology Buildings and Prospects. His photo’ of the deteriorating tower is in the collection of Tate https://www.tate.org.uk/art/archive/items/tga-8728-1-10-44/piper-photograph-of-clavell-tower-kimmeridge-wareham-dorset

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In the middle of the 18th century, Viscount Bateman of Shobdon Court decided to remodel the Romanesque church on his estate. Demolishing all but the tower, he created an enchanting building with exquisite interiors in the fashionable gothick style. Although later accused of ‘wanton destruction’, Bateman did at least recognise the value of fragments of the earlier church, and had them re-erected as an eye-catcher at the end of an avenue in the park.

John Bateman (1721-1802), a viscount in the Irish peerage, was kept busy at court, and actually can’t take much of the blame/credit for the work. He delegated the planning of the church to his uncle Richard ‘Dickie’ Bateman (1705-1773) who had a history of building follies, and was friends with that great exponent of the gothick, Horace Walpole.

Uncle Dickie also masterminded the creation of the Arches eye-catcher, which was complete by 1752, whilst work on the new church continued. The folly was created out of the chancel arch, flanked by two further arches of carved masonry featuring many different motifs. The arches either side of the main arch are topped with carved panels which were tympana (overdoors) in the ancient church; their subjects are Christ in Majesty and the Harrowing of Hell. The pinnacles, pediments and castellations are 18th century embellishments in the same gothick taste as the new church.

The carvings are the work of what has become known as the Herefordshire School, a workshop that produced flamboyant sculpture for churches in the 12th century (best seen today at the Church of St Mary & St David in Kilpeck). Such work was out of fashion in the middle of the 18th century, and in 1756 a visitor saw the folly and declared the two relief panels to be ‘in a very bad taste’.

But by the middle of the 19th century the style was back in vogue, and of great interest to antiquarians. In 1852 George R. Lewis, an expert on the ancient churches of the area, published an account of Shobdon Church which he dedicated to Lord Bateman. He described the ‘highly interesting remains’, which had been placed in the park, as the most ‘interesting and important collection of Ecclesiastical Sculpture and Architecture’ in the county. His publication also makes clear that the arches were already firmly on the tourist trail as the ‘chief attraction of the neighbourhood’ for lovers of art and architecture.

Lewis’s publication brought the carvings to a wider audience, and they were represented at one of the most important events of the 19th century: the Great Exhibition at Crystal Palace. Visitors to the 1854 exhibition were able to appreciate how the ‘richly adorned doorways’ might once have looked. Casts of the tympana had been made (and restored so that the eroded carving was in pristine condition) and were on display in the Fine Arts Courts. One of the casts survived the great fire at Crystal Palace, and was later donated to the Victoria & Albert Museum in London, where it can be seen today.

The last of the Bateman descendants to live at Shobdon died in 1931, and soon afterwards it was announced that the mansion was to be demolished and the service wing converted into a more manageable home. The contents were sold at auction, and then the house was pulled down: a sale of the building materials disposed of every last brick.

The Woolhope Naturalists Field Club (its members being the heroes of this tale) feared ‘that the arches will be lost as well’, and in 1933 a plan to re-erect the stones as a lych-gate to the church was explored, and then dismissed. The club continued to lobby the Ministry of Works, and in 1947 their officer suggested moving the arches to Hereford Cathedral, a plan that was voted down by the Woolhope Club members. The Society of Antiquaries was in favour of moving the stones, but most people were strongly in favour of keeping the Arches in situ if at all possible, and some kind of shelter was proposed instead. This was still under discussion in 1954, when Ivor Bulmer-Thomas, the great champion of church preservation, suggested a ‘brick and tiled building’ be constructed. Nothing happened, but the idea was revived again in May 1989 and was reported in the Observer: as a solution to the continued erosion of the stones, an English Heritage architect suggested erecting an enormous glass pyramid, 45 feet high, over the Arches. But no-one had the money to pay for a giant cloche, and the idea was quietly dropped.

A programme of recording and consolidation of the Arches was completed in 1997, and the folly remains settled in its idyllic setting. The eye-catcher is less prominent than originally intended because of the flanking trees, but some of these were planted with the express purpose of protecting the arches from the elements.

Visitors continue to ponder whether Bateman’s 18th century work was brutal or brilliant: Shobdon gained a magnificent church in the gothick style and a wonderful eye-catcher, but lost a 12th century church with carvings of the highest order. Folly expert Barbara Jones, writing in the 1970s, called this dilemma a battle between ‘crime and creation’, and although her ‘heart sank’ when she saw the quality of the carving in the eyecatcher, she concluded that the outstanding interiors of the new church were ‘worth any vandalism at all’.

The Arches are on private land, but there is public access on a path from the church http://shobdonchurch.org.uk

The Woolhope Club has been ‘exploring Herefordshire’s history, natural history and geology since 1851’ https://www.woolhopeclub.org.uk

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High on Stanton Moor in Derbyshire stands an austere square tower. It was built sometime after 1832 by the local landowner, William Pole Thornhill (1807-1876), to commemorate Earl Grey, the politician who successfully fought for the reform of Parliament in the early 19th century. 

The Thornhill family lived at Stanton Hall, on the edge of the village of Stanton in Peak, from where the ‘lofty monumental tower’ could be seen ‘rising out of the dark woods’ on the moor. These plantations were fairly new, having been planted after the enclosure of the wild moorland in the first decades of the 19th century (and recognised by a gold medal for planting by the Society of Arts in 1815). William Pole Thornhill inherited the estate at Stanton in 1830, and is remembered as a benevolent landowner, who built a new church for the village as well as modern cottages which he embellished with his quirky monogram. On the road to Rowsley he built a viewing platform and seat where travellers could rest and admire the view of the Wye valley.

Thornhill was a Whig, and a strong believer in reforming parliament by getting rid of rotten boroughs and allowing more people (for which read ‘men’) the vote. The leader of this campaign was Earl Grey (1764-1845), the Whig Prime Minister from 1830 to 1834. Thornhill wrote to Earl Grey on behalf of the people of Bakewell and district in 1831, after Grey’s Reform Bill had failed to pass, urging him to ‘persevere with your endeavours’. This was in contrast to the neighbouring Tory landowner, the Duke of Rutland, who in February 1832 expressed his ‘deep sense of gratitude’ that the House of Lords had ‘refused to pass the bill’ (this is a very simplistic view of the politics, but here we are concerned with the tower).

The Reform Tower (aka Stanton Tower or Earl Grey Memorial Tower) was built soon after The Representation of the People Act finally passed into law at the third attempt in 1832, and originally had a plaque above the ‘oak, iron studded door.’ The tablet was carved with a coronet in ‘bold relief’ and the wording ‘Earl Grey, 1832’. The tower was Thornhill’s very prominent celebration of the success of Earl Grey, and it may be no coincidence that it was visible from the Duke of Rutland’s adjacent estate (although his principal seat was Belvoir, in Lincolnshire, the Duke’s Derbyshire properties included Haddon Hall and, very close to the tower, a hunting box called Stanton Woodhouse).

Until the 1950s it was possible to climb the tower and admire the extensive view. Sadly, continued vandalism forced the owner to close the tower to prevent further damage or accident. The inscribed stone above the entrance shattered and fell in the 1980s. In 2005 the landowner and the Peak District National Park discussed the future of the tower: it was hoped that funds could be found to replace the stone panel, and this was written into the Stanton Moor Conservation Plan of 2007, but sadly there has been no progress and the gaping space remains empty.

Elsewhere in the woodland the Thornhill family had a number of rocks carved with initials, crests, and dates. These are wonderful curiosities, all the more intriguing as their history seems to have been lost (as might you be if you try to find them). One is thought to commemorate Harriet, Duchess of Sutherland, and another the Duke of York. But exactly what they did to earn the Thornhills respect is not known.

The slopes below the tower are full of industrial remnants of the quarrying industry, developed from the middle of the 19th century. But here too art has played a part…

A large part of Stanton Moor was given to the National Trust in 1934, but the tower remains in private ownership. There is a network of footpaths allowing access.

Thank you for reading. If you have any thoughts, or can add any further information, please scroll down to the comments box below. 

In the 18th century, travellers on the Great North Road were able to enjoy a view of the ‘small neat house’ that was Leases Hall as they passed by in their carriages. Today, it’s not so easy to dawdle and appreciate ones surroundings, as the Great North Road has been superseded by the 6 lanes of the busy A1(M). But if you are quick, you can snatch a glimpse of a small mound which was once topped by a little rotunda.

Leonard Smelt (1725-1800), who inherited Leases Hall in 1755, is remembered as a man who had ‘the honour of being friend to the King’. He was greatly respected at the court of George III where he socialised with the likes of the writers Samuel Johnson and Fanny Burney, the artist Sir Joshua Reynolds (who painted his portrait), and the learned ladies of the Bluestocking Society, including Mrs Delany whose description of Smelt is quoted above.

The estate at Leases was not large (in 1792 it was described as being 139 acres), but Smelt created a small pleasure ground which was much admired by his great friend Elizabeth Montagu, another member of the bluestocking circle. Writing to her husband during a visit in 1767, Mrs Montagu described the ‘neatness & elegance’ of Leases. She noted that there was no ornamental garden, but rather that a grass terrace, edged with a ha-ha, carried a walk around the fields. The walk was ‘nicely kept, & fringed with plantations’ and had a ‘very rich prospect of well cultivated country bounded by distant mountains’. Above all, she admired the ingenuity of the design, which combined the beauty of the perimeter walks with the utility of the lands they enclosed. Smelt himself referred to his estate as his ‘farm’.

The writer Arthur Young visited Leases Hall (which he called The Leases) in 1768 as part of his six months tour of the north of England. Young visited estates to investigate and promulgate improvements in agriculture, and along the way he often recorded his thoughts on mansions and pleasure grounds. After praising Smelt’s farming methods, he described The Leases as ‘a very beautiful ferme ornée’ and admired the situation and prospect, concluding that ‘Mr Smelt has ornamented it with much taste’.

The history of Bedale was recorded in a curious manner by Robert Hird (1768-1841). Hird was a shoemaker who spent his whole life in Bedale, not far from Leases Hall. In his later years he wrote a history of the town, The Annals of Bedale, entirely in rhyme. Writing of Lady Stapleton of Aiskew, he goes on to name Smelt as the builder of a little temple on a mound in the park at Leases:

Her Ladyship knew Leonard Smelt.
He liv’d at Leases hall,
This Squire the Rotunda built;
Which we the Mount now call.

From which there is the finest view
Of any near the road,
Mowbray vale, you may see it through,
And view where armies trode.

Although Hird wrote that the rotunda had been erected by Smelt, neither Montagu nor Young mention the temple and the first contemporary account is not until 1779, when a traveller noted that ‘upon a small eminence a pretty Rotunda stands upon Pillars’. A designer for the temple and pleasure ground is not known (Smelt himself may have been responsible), but there were plenty of local sources of inspiration: just across the Great North Road was Hornby Castle, where Smelt socialised with the family. Here landscape gardener Lancelot ‘Capability’ Brown, and architect John Carr, were working for the Earl of Holderness in the 1760s. Holderness was advised by his chaplain, William Mason, best known as a garden designer and author of the epic poem The English Garden. Also close by was Kirby Fleetham, sold to William Aislabie of Studley by the Smelt family early in the 18th century, where Aislabie had created a small pleasure ground.

Smelt sold Leases to Randolph Marriott in 1769 and the estate subsequently changed hands a number of times. Despite various alterations, the house (grade II) and grounds are largely as Smelt left them, although some of the perimeter walk has been lost to road-widening.

A very lovely, leafy, bridle path leads up to The Mount, but the ‘pretty Rotunda’ is no longer there. The old photograph, sadly undated, seems to be the only surviving image of the temple in situ at Leases.

But… as the opening photo hints, there is some good news, in fact some very good news. In 1933 Leases Hall was offered for sale by auction. The details described the elegant hall and gardens and the ‘elevated mound surmounted by a circular stone structure’. The estate failed to meet the reserve, but the following year it was sold by private treaty. The purchaser was Alfred Drewett Chaytor (1901-1977), whose family also owned Croft Hall, in the pretty village of Croft-on-Tees, North Yorkshire, close to the border with County Durham. Sometime around 1940 the rotunda was moved from Leases to Croft Hall, where it remains today.

By the time of the move the temple was in a poor condition. The stonework had suffered from erosion by the elements, and the JT who carved his initials into a column, as clearly seen in the old photograph, had set a precedent: the columns are now covered in graffiti, including a large caricature, dating from the early years of the 20th century (without condoning such vandalism, there is something fascinating about the social history that the graffiti records: who were the people with the time to carve intricate names, dates and figures onto the columns? Why were they there?). The roof was missing, no doubt stripped of its lead some years earlier, but happily the cast stone company Haddonstone was able to supply a modern fibreglass replacement. The little temple is a real charmer, and has a secure future at Croft Hall.

Croft Hall is strictly private but opens annually as part of the National Gardens Scheme. Watch out for a date in 2022.

For more on Hird’s Annals of Bedale see this excellent blog post by the team at the North Yorkshire County Record Office https://nycroblog.com/2020/10/28/hirds-annals/

Elizabeth Montagu’s letters are an amazing resource and this project will see them made available online https://www.elizabethmontagunetwork.co.uk

This post would not have been possible without the collaboration of Gail Falkingham and Alison Brayshaw. Thanks team.

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

Nostell Priory, not far from Wakefield in West Yorkshire, is a magnificent 18th century mansion built adjacent to the site of an Augustinian priory. Architect James Paine worked at Nostell for around 30 years, before Robert Adam was called in to add new wings and other works. Adam also designed one of the most luscious of lodges to be found on a country estate.

The new house was commissioned by Sir Rowland Winn, 4th bart. (1706-1765), whose family had owned Nostell since the middle of the 17th century. The original design was by gentleman-architect Col. James Mosyer, but it was modified by James Paine who went on to work at Nostell for 30 years. In the same period the grounds were landscaped with lakes and plantations. Sir Rowland was succeeded in 1765 by his son, also Rowland (1739-1785) and it was he, the fifth baronet, who invited Robert Adam to Nostell. Adam remodelled the stables, created stunning interiors, began ambitious (but ultimately largely unrealised) additions to the house, and designed new lodges.

In the 18th century the terms obelisk and pyramid could be synonymous, so whilst we today would think this structure pyramidal, it was known as the Obelisk Lodge. Adam drew up plans for the ‘Gateway for the Park’ in 1776 and work began immediately. The original drawings show that a pair of sphinx were to terminate the flanking walls, but if they are ever installed they are now lost without trace (see link below). The drive straddled by the lodge brought traffic from the important Pontefract to York road, and it must have been a great thrill for visitors to pass through this monumental lodge in their carriages, before sweeping down over the end of the lake and then climbing again for the mansion to burst into view.

There was accommodation for the gate-keeper in the two small rooms flanking the pyramid. With the arrival of the railway in the 19th century, the Obelisk Lodge was used less and a gate-keeper was no longer needed, although a colliery labourer, a stonemason’s labourer and gamekeepers (the lodge was well-placed to spot poachers entering the park) are recorded in residence over the century. The lodge was by now known locally as the Needle’s Eye (or Needle Eye), perhaps because of its similarity to the arch-pierced pyramid at Wentworth Woodhouse, about 15 miles away. It continued as a family home until the 1950s, but once empty began to decline.

By 1977, when surveyed for the National Monuments Record, it was dilapidated and the tip was crumbling. A decade later the lodge featured in the exhibition (and accompanying catalogue) Georgian Arcadia: Architecture for the Park and Garden, which was held to mark the Golden Jubilee of the Georgian Group. The ‘dramatic Piranesian conception’ was described as neglected and vandalised, and so it remained until the beginning of the 21st century.

In 2002 it was announced that £4.2 million pounds of Heritage Lottery Funding would allow the acquisition of this previously private part of the estate, as well as meeting the costs of a major programme of renovation and restoration at Nostell that included the Grade II* listed Obelisk Lodge. The singular lodge, which had become pointless in more ways than one, is now once again a magnificent parkland feature.

Nostell Priory was given to the National Trust in lieu of tax in 1953  https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/nostell

For Adam’s drawing in the collection of the Sir John Soane Museum see http://collections.soane.org/THES92166

All modern photo’s were taken on rather lovely day in November 2020, when local restrictions allowed, and the National Trust team were doing an excellent job of managing safe access to the park.

If you would like to share any thoughts, please scroll down to the comments section. Thank you for reading.

High above Ashton, and visible from miles around, is the curious tower called Hartshead Pike. It was built in the 1860s to commemorate the wedding of the Prince of Wales to Princess Alexandra of Denmark, and to honour Queen Victoria on the occasion of her son’s marriage.

Going back in time, the hill is said to have been home to an ancient beacon, which was replaced in 1751 by a stone pinnacle bearing the legend ‘This Pike Was Re-built By Publick Contributions Anno Do 1751’. There was also a plaque bearing the polite instruction: ‘Look well at me Before You go, And See You nothing at me Throw’, a reminder that vandalism is nothing new.

By the time the writer John Aikin saw it at the end of the 18th century, the tower had become a ‘favourite and well-known object’ and was a popular resort for walkers. It was however already in a poor condition, with a ‘split from top to bottom near half a yard in width’. Aikin thought that ‘a few pounds laid out in repair’ would secure the structure for the century to come. But this was not to be, and the Pike continued to decline throughout the first half of the 19th century.

In autumn 1862 it was announced that the Prince of Wales, the future Edward VII, would be married to Princess Alexander of Denmark early the following year, and across the country committees were convened to decide how best to mark the occasion. Somewhat at the eleventh hour, the great and the good of Ashton met on 21 February (less than a month before the wedding), and the Mayor of the Manor, Samuel Lees, suggested that the ‘auspicious event’ be marked by the repair of Hartshead Pike. This idea was received with enthusiasm (hear hear), and plans were made to launch an appeal for funds.

First to subscribe was the Lord of the Manor, George Henry Grey, the 7th Earl of Stamford & Warrington, on whose land the tower was to be built. He also made a donation of twenty pounds and gave the stone for construction. The prominent civic figures and wealthier members of the community donated between 1 and 5 Guineas each, and those working men who could afford it gave 2/6d. It soon became apparent that rather than repairing the existing pike, which stood on poor foundations, a new tower was required and a number of designs were submitted. After careful consideration, the committee unanimously agreed to commission design number 3, by local architect John Eaton (1810-1876).

The foundation stone was laid on 17 September 1863 but progress was slow, and the funds inadequate. The committee met in April 1864 to discuss how to proceed, and Eaton was asked if it would be possible to modify the initial plans and finish the tower at the height it had then reached. Nothing was decided, and the tower was left unfinished. Letters to the local papers both attacked and defended Lees (party politics), and the situation dragged on until June 1868 when the Earl of Stamford & Warrington agreed that the land around the tower should become a recreational facility for the local area. He placed the ground in the hands of trustees, and gave the generous sum of 50 Guineas towards the project. The tower was eventually completed some time before the end of 1869.

The inscription from the collapsed earlier pike was relocated to the new tower, along with further inscriptions recording its history, and a plaque with the Grey family crest and motto A Ma Puissance (To My Power). A hart’s head weather vane is known to have topped the earlier pike, and this was either salvaged, or a copy was commissioned for the new tower, as seen in the postcard view above.

Over the next century the tower, high on the exposed hillside, continued to be hammered by hurricanes and hooligans, and remedial action was taken on a number of occasions to ensure its survival. In 1911 it was announced that the tower would be restored to ‘commemorate the Coronation of King George’,  but it was not until 1914 that work was completed, and by 1928 vandalism and a storm meant that yet another restoration was required. In the years leading up to the Second World War the tower was open to the public, and a small shop sold refreshments, but the door and windows were bricked up in the war years.

In September 2019 metal fencing was erected around the tower as it was once again crumbling and falling masonry posed a risk to the public, and in May 2020 there was good news when Tameside Council announced that £61,000 was to be spent restoring Hartshead Pike..

Work was almost complete when The Folly Flâneuse visited in Autumn 2020. Sadly the local pub was closed because of local Covid19 restrictions, as it has the most wonderful and enticing sign…

There’s a circular walk, cleverly described as a ‘hike to the pike’ here https://www.tameside.gov.uk/countryside/walksandtrails/hiketothepike.pdf

Thanks for reading. Comments are always welcome, and if you scroll down you can find out how to get in touch with any thoughts.