Early in the nineteenth century, Samuel Russell Collett moved to a farming estate at Swinethorpe in Lincolnshire. There he constructed a ‘romantic seat’, in the form of a sham castle, which by 1824 was known by the curious name of ‘The Jungle’.
The reason why Collett decided to build a house in this form seems to be long forgotten, and it is not known if he used an architect or designed it himself. Lucinda Lambton names Thomas Lovely as the builder, and he was presumably the Lincolnshire bricklayer by that name: The Jungle is built out of over-baked bricks (ones that have been in the kiln for too long and become dark, glassy and misshapen in appearance). But building the facade must have been quite a novel experience for Lovely, as the bricks are not laid conventionally, but are a haphazard jumble that creates a most unusual texture and appearance.
Initially Jones struggled to find the history of the building: ‘it has no history’ she noted, and all the information she could garner was that ‘a man built it’. Eventually, she was shown a manuscript account of The Jungle written by Major General John Henry Loft, a Lincolnshire M.P. and antiquarian soon after the house was built. He noted his observations, mainly of ecclesiastical subjects, as he travelled around the county, and happily for history they had survived.
In 1826 Loft diverted from church-crawling to visit Collett at his ‘very singular but tasty and handsome Residence’. He described the house as being ‘composed of over burnt Bricks’ built up in a rough state in ‘the manner of a Castle’ with a ‘grotesque but not inelegant appearance’. Around the house were gardens with ornamental trees amongst which different kinds of deer, several ‘very fine Kangaroos’ and a male and female buffalo with a calf wandered freely. Golden pheasants had their own enclosure, and gold and silver fish swam in the pond. In the house Loft admired ‘many good Apartments’, but he didn’t elaborate further.
Three years later a ‘liberal reward’ was offered for information on the ‘strangers’ who were suspected of stealing from The Jungle. Their haul comprised of ‘nine golden pheasants (viz. six cocks and three hens), a mongoose, some fancy rabbits and two storks’. The felons were soon apprehended, but the fate of the creatures is not recorded.
It is assumed that this menagerie gave the house its name of ‘The Jungle’, which first appears in print around 1824, Collett having previously being described as ‘of Swinethorpe’. And is it coincidence or nominative determinism that The Jungle stands near the village of Eagle? This remains one of follydoms great mysteries.
Collett died in 1850, and his wife continued at The Jungle until her death in 1854. The house was then let by Collet’s heir, and by 1899 was home to the Bingham family. The Jungle was a welcome sight to touring cyclists, as for many years Mrs Bingham offered teas and accommodation. By this date the building’s history was forgotten, and an 1890 guide described it simply as an ‘old house’ that was ‘very picturesque’.
Barbara Jones visited in the early 1950s when researching for the first edition of Follies & Grottoes, published in 1953. She described the ‘fanged and snarling facade’ which fronted the ‘plain farmhouse’ and sketched the strange structure.
In the 1960s Audrey Houlston, whose husband was a Lincolnshire potato farmer, was out riding and spotted the house. It was love at first sight, and the Houlstons bought the ‘dairy and arable farm’ with 150 acres at auction in 1964 for £22,700. When asked about its appeal, Dennis Houlston explained that they liked the fact that the house was so unusual and ‘the only one of its kind’. The Houlston’s added a modern house, of a ‘clean rectilinear design’ behind the folly facade, and reassured the locals that they had no intention of having a menagerie in their grounds.
When The Jungle was offered for sale in 2000, the picturesque property understandably caught the eye of newspaper editors with property pages to fill. The Daily Telegraph gave the ‘bizarre, elfin-gothic castle’ a double-page spread, and thought that with an asking price of £500,000 the ‘quaint folly’ was both a ‘bargain and an opportunity’.
The Jungle remains a rather special family home, and can only be glimpsed from the road. The folly facade is listed at grade II*.
Thank you for reading. The comments box is in its usual position at the foot of the page if you wish to share any thoughts or further information.
Nic Orchard says:
That’s the speediest book purchase I have made since I started the computer…
🙂
Editor says:
Hello Nic. Monumental Follies needs to be on your shelves alongside Barbara Jones and Headley & Meulenkamp, which remain the key sources. It is more visual, and has some images that aren’t seen elsewhere. Hope you enjoy it.
Jane Dorner says:
Love the word ‘follydom’. Is that your own coinage?
Editor says:
Good morning Jane. ‘Follydom’ just popped into my head. I have no idea if I coined it, or if it was in the back of my mind from another source. Whatever the case, I’m pleased you liked it.
Keren says:
Apologies to fans of nominative determinism, but the local pronunciation of Eagle is ‘Eh-gul’, rather than ‘Ee-gal’’ 🙂
Editor says:
Thanks Keren. It’s always good to have local knowledge.
Rosemary Hill says:
An absolute corker of a post, even by the Flaneuse’s usual high standards.
Do you suppose the current occupants would ever be amenable to joint C20th/Victorian Society visit? It is such a pantomime horse of a house.
Thank you so much for brightening another Saturday
Keren says:
Are you ‘that’ Rosemary Hill, as in Pugin?
Last time I was up there, The Jungle was hidden by a hideous Leylandii hedge, but that was some time ago.
I’d love a chance to see it properly, but the modern house looks like it was designed by a specialist in 1970s polytechnic halls of residence (definitely *not* Pugin)! 🙁
Rosemary Hill says:
Yes, guilty as charged!
Andy Hooper says:
‘Pugin’ as in the architectural wonders around Ramsgate?
Editor says:
Thank you Rosemary. The Jungle is certainly one of Brtiain’s most curious ‘back-to-backs’, and I love your pantomime horse analogy. I don’t know the current owners, but it must be worth a letter to ask about a visit. Do please invite me if you get a positive response.
Matthew Gavin says:
My Grandad apparantly grew up living in The Jungle. Thomas ‘Sid’ Gavin. He was born 1913. All I know is that he was part of a very large family. Would love some more information if anyone knows !?
Editor says:
Hello Matthew. I didn’t come across that name in my research, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t live there as the house had a number of different tenants. I wish you success in finding out more about your grandfather.
TOM GARDNER says:
TOM (NYC)
QUITE A ‘MARRIAGE’ (OLD & NEW) – BUT … IF IT WORKS – ‘GO WITH THE FLOW’.
MY ONLY CONCERN WOULD BE … THE ‘BUGS’ – THAT MIGHT ALSO CALL THE OVER ABUNDANCE OF ‘COVERAGE’ – HOME SWEET HOME!
Editor says:
Good morning Tom. Hopefully all that ivy is also home to birds who feast on the bugs! It is indeed a curious marriage of styles – one built 150 years after the other.
David Edgar says:
1. A rewarding place to see the use of fanciful or reject grade (spoils) products from a brick maker is the Grade 11 Plantation Garden at Norwich, constructed in a quarry from 1856 onwards by Hugh Trevor; furniture maker and chapel minister. Retaining walls, terraces, an alcove, a fountain and stairwayss were constructed from flints or the products in the very comprehensive catalogue of Gunton Bros., at Costessey (determinists should say ‘Cossy’) manufacturers of Moulded and Enriched Brickwork. Variety, rather than uniformity is the cheeerful result. Today volunteers maintain well-ordered Victorian planting.
2. In Southend-on-Sea the front garden walls at older houses are often constructed in burrs; over-burnt bricks that became deformed or fused together in firing, and no doubt cheap to buy. These walls point to the former brick-making industry in this south-east corner of Essex. Most bricks became the yellow-shaded and very durable London Stock.
Editor says:
Hello David. I appreciate you sending these very interesting examples of the use of over-baked brick. I will add the Plantation Garden to my itinerary for a Norfolk trip this summer. Thank you for taking the time to get in touch.
Andy Hooper says:
Where I grew up in Thanet, there are many examples of burnt and misshapen bricks used in boundary walls and some houses.
I believe they are called clinker bricks due to the sound they make when struck.
Editor says:
Hello Andy. I’m all in favour of such clinker ‘rejects’ having a practical, and often aesthetically pleasing, use. And yes, ‘that’ Pugin.