As a small boy, I was always interested in building what we then called “dens”. My friends discovered an abandoned Mansion house nearby where the large gardens had been left to return to nature. It became a magnificent playground for us, a little spot of wild countryside within the town. My first attempt at a den, as a nine-year-old, was to construct a “tee-pee”. The frame was of wood, salvaged from a dilapidated fence, covered with copious amounts of rosebay willow herb, a tall garden weed which had taken over the ornamental gardens.
A couple of years later we progressed when a pal and I decided to dig our new den. We sunk a shaft, six feet deep, down into the ground and then proceeded digging horizontally. We did not realise we would need supports and continued digging, forming an underground den to hide in. How we were not killed is beyond me!!
My late wife and I moved to Strathendry thirty-four years ago and we inherited a large Georgian Walled Garden (1.3 Acres, with 14ft high walls) in woodland, which had been abandoned and had seven-foot weeds throughout. We scythed down the weeds and sprayed copious amounts of selective weedkiller which encouraged the dormant grass to begin to grow. The miniature hedges, framing the paths were reinstated and fruit trees were replanted against the walls. I then decided to build a treehouse (two rooms) 20ft up in a large tree for my one-year-old son. Later I built a wooden gazebo in the corner of the garden, which allowed us to catch the last of the evening summer sun.
We then decided to renovate a small stone dilapidated outbuilding which was situated in the gardens, to the south of the castle courtyard. It had been converted at some time to house the estate's generator, as a backup, I presume, should the mains electricity fail. I repaired the roof, re-slated the building, and fitted new gutters.
We purchased the interior of a local church, which was closing, removing the pews, panelling and pulpit. A local, very talented carpenter, cut everything down to fit the interior and built a gothic wooden porch at the entrance. I then made and fitted six leaded, stained-glass windows and inserted a bell into the small tower. This is the only building, which is not a folly, but is now a small private chapel dedicated to the glory of God.
Some-time later, we had constructed a small sheiling (airaidh) on an uninhabited Hebridean island.
It was built of breezeblock with a plastic-coated metal roof and double[1]glazed windows. However, we cemented rough stone to the outer walls and my son, and I cut turf and laid it on the roof, held down by wire netting with stones attached to make it look traditional. We fitted a “pot-bellied stove” for cooking and heat, and a couple of wooden bed-settees allowed us to spend the odd night “camping” on the island.
A couple of years ago I managed to persuade a somewhat reluctant spouse to help me construct a fishing chalet/boat house at our holiday home in France. I remember being down in the boat in the lake holding the treated thick wooden piles in place (Margaret did not like the water), while she wielded a sledgehammer, driving them into the lakebed!! The piles supported the overhanging veranda in front of the chalet.
As can be seen, I am a bit of a “folly nut”, however it was only about a year or two ago that I realised there was a Society for “eccentrics” of a similar persuasion. After joining I was surprised to note that amongst the patrons of the “Folly Society”, who appreciated “whacky” architecture, were Bob Geldoff KBE and Jools Holland OBE.
About twenty years ago I had another of my “mad” ideas, when I decided I wanted to construct a summer house. This folly would be built, based on the shape of a small Prostyle Greek temple, but incorporating many different architectural characteristics, within the Walled Garden. Sometimes called in polite circles, a Belvidere, a Pleasance, or a Banqueting house, they were erected in previous centuries as places where the “hoi polloi” would retire for afternoon tea or to partake of dessert following a big meal.
Of course, many different traditional architectural styles were utilised during their construction. Although I personally derive great pleasure from designing and building follies, I find I never have very much time to enjoy using them when they are finished.
I suppose I feel a bit like a former neighbour, who was restoring a rare Aston Martin DB5 (James Bond’s car) many 24 years ago. I was always asking him when it would be finished and he replied, “Iain, it is better to travel hopefully than to arrive”. I am not sure if he ever finished that car but if he did, the price had gone up so much, it would have been worth more than his house!
I persuaded a friend who was retired and was very skilled in practical building and repairs to help me in my latest project. He insisted we needed to dig down 6ft to build strong foundations. We hired a mini digger, which was great fun, and we dug out a trench. We discovered the 14ft walls had at least another 6ft of masonry foundations under the ground. We built double breeze block foundations up to ground level, with Kenny constantly checking that they were level in every direction. This was difficult as the walls of the garden were sloping away, down a hill and the central path approached at a slight angle. However, Kenny insisted the building had to be straight and level, no matter how it might appear from the path. I purchased a large quantity of breeze blocks, fluted stone slabs and four Roman doric columns for the build. A few months later Kenny became ill and could not continue and I took on and was fully involved in another project. The columns and stone sat and mellowed as they aged, over the next eighteen years.
When the pandemic hit, and we were all locked down I decided this was the chance to revive the temple build. I roped in my stepson, Charlie, and although we were a couple of amateurs when working with dressed stone, we decided to see if we “could make a good fist of it”. We slowly raised the walls, trying to keep them on the straight and narrow. Then we cut down old stone flags, which had been used previously at the castle, to form the stylobate, the base that supports the row of columns. The four doric columns were erected, leaving the two central columns leading to the cella a couple of inches further apart. The Greeks had discovered by trial and error that when four columns were equidistant the central two looked closer together. Next, we constructed the roof timbers and architrave. We had decided to build the pediment in wood, as we were keen to have most of the mass of the roof resting on the walls. The columns, being made of reconstituted stone, were not load bearing so we did not want to encumber them with excess weight. I then nailed over two hundred pantiles onto the roof of the temple and attached the ridge tiles to the crest. Later we fitted the triglyph, metope and guttae decorations of the Greek doric order around the outer frieze. On the architrave below, in brass letters, is the latin O GLORIA DEO, to God be the glory.
Modillions, of the Corinthian order, were fixed under the cornice and the pediment. I then sunk two bas-relief, plaster sculptures into the inner frieze within the portico. The first features the victorious Alexander the Great entering Babylon in his chariot. The second has his 26 armour bearers trying with difficulty to bring Alexander’s horse, Bucephalus, into the city. It was said no one could ride the wild and unruly horse, save Alexander. Above the door to the cella, we fixed a pierced timber pediment. Three regulae were fitted to decorate the ceiling of the pronaos.
To date we still have to fit two gothic tracery windows to the front along with a mullioned door. We also plan to fit two windows at either side above the stone balustrades. We have fitted a floor to the cella but we still need to fit out the interior. It is to be hoped that we can complete the Temple, Folly by next year and to have its grand opening in time for the Clan Gathering in June.
I have to say I have had the most enjoyable time designing, building, and decorating this latest and my most ambitious folly to date. However, in my mind, I have begun to formulate plans to begin a small tower which would replicate an iron age broch, once common throughout the western highlands. My problem is that my ideas usually come about much quicker than I can carry them out!!