The hamlet of Racton, in a quiet corner of West Sussex, is little more than a church and a cluster of cottages. What catches the eye is the dramatic ruin, with tapering central tower, that stands above the settlement. This is the belvedere erected by George Montagu Dunk, 2nd Earl of Halifax, as an ornament to his Stansted Park estate.

The earl’s principal seat was at Horton in Northamptonshire, and Stansted (sometimes Stanstead) came to him via his mother’s side of the family in 1766, around the time this portrait was painted. Lord Halifax (1716-1771) must have built the tower soon after he inherited the estate, for it was seen by Horace Walpole in 1770. Walpole was no admirer of the new building, dismissing it simply as ‘very ugly’. Three early views survive, so readers can decide for themselves if they agree with Walpole’s judgement.

The tower is triangular in form, with a central round tower flanked by three smaller turrets. Fragments of moulding and plasterwork seen in the 20th century suggest that the interior was very fine. The work is now attributed to the architect Henry Keene: he designed a spire for Westbourne church for Lord Halifax in 1770, and was also working on a prospect tower at nearby Uppark around the same date. But it seems likely he was assisted by his son Theodosius, who was still a youth when the tower was built, for it was Theodosius who submitted a finished drawing (above) to the exhibition of the Society of Artists in 1772 under the title A view of Stanstead Castle, near Emsworth.

An unknown artist sketched the tower in 1771 (above). Although the tower is known to have been complete at that date, and the artist noted detailed dimensions, this drawing does not show the tower as built. The dimensions are only partially correct, so the only explanation that comes to mind is that the artist produced this finished sketch from rough drawings and measurements made on-the-spot and, basically, got it wrong. Two watercolours by Samuel Hieronymous Grimm, executed in 1782, confirm that tower was built to the original design by Henry Keene.

From the top of the tower there were views down to the coast and out to sea over the naval base at Portsmouth, and to the Isle of Wight and the bustle of ships in the English Channel. There was also a fine view of Chichester Cathedral. But these views could also be appreciated from the house and from Lumley Seat, a temple in the garden at Stansted, so a writer in 1784 was somewhat disgruntled that having climbed all the steps there was ‘little variety in the prospect’. He concluded that ‘the elegance […] of this edifice is in no means proportionate to the prodigious expense which the raising of it cost his lordship’.

The earl had little time to enjoy his new tower, as he died in June 1771. However lurid local legends suggest he packed a lot into his brief period of ownership (remembering he also had a busy life in Northamptonshire and London). When he wasn’t indulging in wild orgies at the tower he was up on the roof frantically signalling the all-clear to ‘the big smuggling gangs who swarmed the coast’: apparently the earl was ‘the head of one of the biggest gangs’. A writer contributing to a local paper in 1938 was told that the folly was built by the earl so he could watch for Napoleon’s armies landing. Thankfully, the journalist had a better grasp of British history than his informant, and did not pass on this anachronism. He concluded instead that the ‘tower is another good instance of how legend gains momentum with the passing of time’.

Lord Halifax left no legitimate issue, so the title expired. His natural daughter, Anna Maria Montagu, was the beneficiary of the estate, but it was sold soon after Halifax’s death to raise capital. The new owner was a wealthy merchant called Richard Barwell (1741-1804) and the tower was regarded as an elegant object during his ownership. After his death the estate changed hands a number of times, before becoming dispersed in the early years of the 20th century.

The tower stood in attractive landscaped grounds, and became a popular destination for day trippers. The earliest accounts call it the ‘Stansted Tower’, or ‘Stansted Castle’, and in 1826 it was described as standing upon ‘a piece of land called Castle Field’. This name was soon lost and on 18th century county maps it is named simply as ‘Tower’. The First Series Ordnance Survey map of 1810 calls it ‘Stansted Tower’, and the First Edition map of 1875 marks it as ‘Racton Monument’, with the ominous words ‘in ruins’ in parentheses.

By 1862 the tower was described as ‘the old ruin’, suggesting it had been in decay for some time by that date, and an account of 1888 noted that the three turrets ‘were gradually diminishing in height from the effects of storms’. The staircase and windows had by then gone, and there were only vestiges of the old garden.

Inevitably there were issues with damage to the tower, and in 1933 the then owners threatened to ban public access if the problems didn’t stop. Sadly, the wilful damage has continued over the decades, and fences and ‘keep out’ signs have been pulled down as quickly as they were erected. A solution was proposed in 2020 when architect Mark Talbot, who bought the tower in 1987, attempted to obtain planning permission to restore the grade II listed tower as a private house (planning permission had been granted some years before he bought the tower, but had expired). The application was rejected on the grounds that it was ‘an unsympathetic form of development’ which would detract from the tower’s special architectural and historic interest.

The tower is on private land but can be seen from the lovely track called Monument Lane: there are good views of the tower across arable land as one ascends. The tower is in a sorry state, but somehow remains dignified and undeniably dramatic.

Perhaps the best way to appreciate the design of the tower today is from high above, as Nic Orchard did in 2019 when she soared over in her light aircraft.

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Such was the headline of an article in the Sussex County Magazine in 1937.  The author, William A. Bagley, was fascinated by the ‘strange towers’ that could be found ‘dotted all over the hilltops of England’. Revisiting some of the follies he described some 85 years later the Folly Flâneuse discovered that the towers have had differing histories: one is lost, some survive in much the same state as when Bagley saw them, and one is currently on the market with a multi-million pound asking price.

One of the featured follies was Holmbush Beacon Tower, built in 1855-57 on the Holmbush estate, home to one of the Broadwood family of piano fame. It became a popular destination for ramblers and picnic parties, and the slender tower could be seen from miles around, as well as providing views of 5 counties and out to sea at Shoreham. In 1945, only a few years after Bagley wrote about the folly, the prominent landmark was demolished. The local paper reported that ‘Hitler is said to have passed too near to it, and made it somewhat unsafe’ (presumably this was the Luftwaffe rather than the leader himself).

Racton Tower, a looming great edifice on the Stansted Park estate, was another of Bagley’s subjects, and little has changed since he described it as ‘a tremendous affair’ which ‘for a long time… has been in ruins.’ It was erected by Lord Halifax in around 1770 and the story is that it cost him £10,000 to build. Whilst Lord Halifax no doubt simply fancied having a belvedere/eyecatcher-cum-banqueting house on his estate, today it is a favourite haunt of those who believe in ghosts and the paranormal. The architect owner would like to restore it as his home, but the local planning officers are not so keen.

Happily Bagley found the Toat Monument, near Pulborough, in ‘a fair condition’, although the roof was in disrepair. A year after Bagley’s visit the tower was ‘burnt down by picnickers’, but happily it was later restored by the owner of Toat House, W.T. Dallas. The tower is dated 1823 and commemorates Samuel Drinkald who is said to have died on the spot after falling from his horse. All sorts of local stories add embellishment to this tale, including the legend that the builder of the tower and his horse were buried upside down below the tower. Spoiler alert: if you’d like to stick with this spirited story, skip the next sentence. The truth is less dramatic – Drinkald was buried in All Hallows by the Tower in London in August 1822, and the tower built by his family in his memory.

The Nore Folly at Slindon perplexed Bagley, and he concluded that ‘who erected it and why is not known’. When Bagley saw it the front arch, the remnants of which can just be seen springing from the side walls, would have been intact. In the 1930s the folly was covered with graffiti and Bagley was particularly incensed by the work of ‘Minnie and Bob’. Happily the arch, built as a summerhouse by Lady Newburgh of Slindon in 1814, is now in the care of the National Trust and, for now, Minnie and Bob’s modern-day counterparts seem to have left it alone.

Just as Bagley was completing his article he discovered a new folly and added a quick line to say that there was a tower in Shillinglee Park, close to the Surrey border. He illustrated his piece with a photograph of a rather nondescript tower, which Pevsner would describe in 1965 as ‘squat and stuccoed’ and Barbara Jones dismissed as ‘ugly’ in the 2nd edition of Follies & Grottoes (1974).

But the ugly duckling was maturing into an elegant swan. The tower was first converted into flats, with glamorous inhabitants including Judy Garland and later Charlotte Rampling, and then from 1984 it was renovated and extended as a single private home. In April 2022 it was placed on the market and featured in Country Life as ‘a beautiful baby castle’. Contact agents Knight Frank if your budget extends to £6,500,000.

Bagley was amused to think that the builders of these follies (with their origins forgotten, or mangled by later generations) would ‘doubtless chuckle in their graves when they learn of the controversy and speculation their eccentricities cause’, and it is certainly true that many follies now have lurid and/or inaccurate tales attached that would bemuse their builders.

And proving he was very much a kindred spirit of the Folly Flâneuse, Bagley concluded that by making a folly the object of a country walk ‘interest is certainly added to the ramble.’

You can still ramble and see the follies that intrigued Bagley in 1937, although some can only be seen as distant objects from public footpaths. There is full access to the Nore folly and there’s a lovely walk here https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/slindon-estate/trails/eartham-to-puck-lane-and-nore-hill-folly-walk

If you fancy life at Shillinglee here is the link you need. Do please invite the Folly Flâneuse to visit once you are settled in https://www.knightfrank.co.uk/properties/residential/for-sale/shillinglee-chiddingfold-godalming-gu8/CHO080405

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In 1987 Save Britain’s Heritage, the charity which campaigns to save historic buildings from needless destruction, published Pavilions in Peril, a report into the great number of garden buildings in Britain that faced an uncertain future. In drawing attention to historic buildings that are vacant and whose future is uncertain, the charity hoped to identify new owners able to repair and/or find a new use for the structures, thus securing their future. 33 years after that report was written The Folly Flâneuse is delighted to write that there have been some fabulous restorations (see link below to an earlier post), but read on for the not-so-good news…

The report’s author, Julia Abel Smith, researched 54 case studies, and sadly two of the featured structures have disappeared forever. The classical Temple to Pitt at Coleby Hall in Lincolnshire, was described in 1987 as being ‘a very sad sight’, and it was demolished in the 1990s. Although it looks fairly substantial in this postcard view, it was actually wood plastered to look like stone, and therefore less able to withstand the elements.

The Bark Temple at Exton in Leicestershire, a rustic wooden summerhouse which had been deteriorating for some years, finally collapsed in 1997. There will be more on this fascinating lost building in a forthcoming guest post.

Two years after the report was published SAVE introduced a Buildings at Risk Register, and two of the buildings featured in Pavilions in Peril remain on that list today.

Despite attempts to secure its future, the Umbrello, on the privately-owned Great Saxham estate in Suffolk, has spent 33 years in peril. It is of particular interest as not only is it an unusual design, but it is built of Coade Stone, the celebrated artificial stone developed by Mrs Coade at her factory in Lambeth. Originally constructed in the late 18th or early 19th century, its design is based on a Batty Langley pattern and a Historic England report of 2001 concluded that Great Saxham may not have been its first home. There’s a link to the full report below.

Near Chichester in Sussex, stands the derelict Racton Tower, which is also on SAVE’s Buildings at Risk Register. It was designed by Theodosius Keene for the 2nd Earl of Halifax and complete by around 1770. The hilltop folly (described by Horace Walpole as ‘a very ugly Tower’) was built to take advantage of extensive views across the downs to the Isle of Wight and beyond, and as an eye-catcher from Lord Halifax’s seat at Stansted House. In the year Pavilions in Peril was published it was bought by a private owner who planned to turn it into a private house. Planning permission was granted some years ago, but has since expired, and at the time of writing a new application, from the same very patient owner, is being considered by the South Downs National Park Planning Authority.

Other buildings featured in the report remain in need of rescue. In 1987 the Belvedere at Sketty, near Swansea, was unlisted and derelict. Probably designed by the architect William Jernegan in the early 19th century, the folly contains a lovely vaulted chamber with its roof supported by a single column (likely inspired by the nearby Chapter House at Margam).

The building has the inscription ESTO PERPETUO (May it stand forever), which is somewhat ironic given its current condition, although nicely relevant when one learns that when it was conveyed to Swansea City Council there was a covenant attached forbidding demolition. The house at Sketty was demolished in 1975 and the belvedere is now surrounded by the modern housing that was built in its park. In 2015 the cash-strapped Swansea Council sold the building at auction; the sum realised was reported to be £130,000. However plans to restore the (now grade II listed) folly as a dwelling have been scuppered by a colony of bats, and it remains boarded-up and neglected.

In Yorkshire the temple at Whitley Beaumont, near Huddersfield, was thought to have a bleak future as it had lost its roof, and the fine chamber beneath was filling with rubble. Happily it still stands, although it has continued to slowly deteriorate under the combined force of vandals, the elements, and total loss of raison d’être: the estate was requisitioned for mining during the Second World War and the mansion demolished in 1952 . Attributed to James Paine, the temple was probably constructed in the early 1750s when the Beaumont family’s mansion was being remodelled. A grand terrace walk, edged with flowering shrubs, terminated at the temple from which there were extensive views. In the 1770s the building was home to a telescope and visitors were invited to admire the distant views from the elevated site, which (as reputed of every prospect tower in Yorkshire) included a view to York Minster. When invited to admire the view one guest, clearly an old hand at dealing with the boasts of owners, announced that he could most certainly see the mighty church: experience had taught him that when he found his hosts ‘resolutely determined that I shall see a thing, I always see it immediately to save trouble.’ The temple now stands rather forlornly on the edge of a quarry, as a reminder of how great the estate once was.

If you are feeling a little despondent now, see last week’s post for the good news https://thefollyflaneuse.com/pavilions-in-peril-part-i-pavilions-preserved/

This is only a selection from the buildings featured in Pavilions in Peril, but it is still in print at the absolute bargain price of £5 and is well worth the investment. You can buy it and learn more about SAVE here https://www.savebritainsheritage.org/publications/publications-in-print/3 

For the full report on the Umbrella at Great Saxham follow this link https://research.historicengland.org.uk/Report.aspx?i=15025&ru=%2FResults.aspx%3Fp%3D549

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