The Towering Imposition.
Mar. 14th, 2014 10:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
davywavyI sometimes think that if I’m reincarnated I’d like to come back as a wealthy Victorian Industrialist. You’d have many of the amenities of a modern life, but you could also do much as you liked without having to worry about stuff like laws or other people which do so get in the way of a fellow enjoying himself these days.
Let us take as our example Walter Barton May, who inherited a chunky fortune and few enough responsibilities in 1832. Unfortunately for Walter he didn’t trust his wife’s fidelity and so, like any perfectly level-headed and rational millionaire would do he built a tower attached to his already considerable abode. This one:
Unlike Mr Rochester he didn’t do what any normal person would do and lock his missus in the attic to stop her from getting uppity, but instead he would use his tower to keep an eye on her whenever she went into town. I can imagine him now: sitting in his study as he heard the front door go, he’d leap to his feet and go scuttling up the tower and peer over the parapet with his telescope.
“By George”, he’d say to himself. “She’s riding a bicycle, and she’s not side-saddle. And what’s this? Going into the greengrocer’s, eh? Buying cucumbers I’ll be bound, the harlot. And the butchers? For some sausages? That strumpet!”
I couldn’t help but think that Mr. May sounded pretty well adjusted and felt a certain kinship with him across the centuries as, like so many of these places, you can hire the tower out and live in it for a pretty reasonable sum given what it’s like – and that’s where I found myself the other weekend.
It’s only been done out very recently and, being as it was a huge job and the tower is something of a local landmark, as a result I think it's the only place I’ve ever stayed which has it’s own museum attached. However, perhaps needless to say I didn’t pay too much attention to all those boring old ‘facts’ and ‘history’ as there was important noshing and boozing to be done and perhaps above all the place itself to explore and make the most of.
It’s a real warren inside. Not only are there two staircases but it also has its own lift for if you’re a lazy porker who doesn’t fancy a narrow winding staircase, but with multiple floors (there are five habitable floors, and then an expanse of empty tower with a single spiral staircase up to the parapet) I couldn’t help but think it’d make a fantastic place for playing hide-and-seek. Possibly that’s how Walter’s wife viewed it as well and tried constantly to keep one step ahead of him. I can only hope so.
The interior is lovely and comfy and as the wind and rain rattled the window it was unutterably pleasant to pour another large schooner and lob another log or two on the fire and think of what might have been if only my parents had had the foresight to be considerably richer (or to have had fewer children. I’d take that option as well if there were a flashy tower involved).
So what have you lot been doing lately?
Let us take as our example Walter Barton May, who inherited a chunky fortune and few enough responsibilities in 1832. Unfortunately for Walter he didn’t trust his wife’s fidelity and so, like any perfectly level-headed and rational millionaire would do he built a tower attached to his already considerable abode. This one:
Unlike Mr Rochester he didn’t do what any normal person would do and lock his missus in the attic to stop her from getting uppity, but instead he would use his tower to keep an eye on her whenever she went into town. I can imagine him now: sitting in his study as he heard the front door go, he’d leap to his feet and go scuttling up the tower and peer over the parapet with his telescope.
“By George”, he’d say to himself. “She’s riding a bicycle, and she’s not side-saddle. And what’s this? Going into the greengrocer’s, eh? Buying cucumbers I’ll be bound, the harlot. And the butchers? For some sausages? That strumpet!”
I couldn’t help but think that Mr. May sounded pretty well adjusted and felt a certain kinship with him across the centuries as, like so many of these places, you can hire the tower out and live in it for a pretty reasonable sum given what it’s like – and that’s where I found myself the other weekend.
It’s only been done out very recently and, being as it was a huge job and the tower is something of a local landmark, as a result I think it's the only place I’ve ever stayed which has it’s own museum attached. However, perhaps needless to say I didn’t pay too much attention to all those boring old ‘facts’ and ‘history’ as there was important noshing and boozing to be done and perhaps above all the place itself to explore and make the most of.
It’s a real warren inside. Not only are there two staircases but it also has its own lift for if you’re a lazy porker who doesn’t fancy a narrow winding staircase, but with multiple floors (there are five habitable floors, and then an expanse of empty tower with a single spiral staircase up to the parapet) I couldn’t help but think it’d make a fantastic place for playing hide-and-seek. Possibly that’s how Walter’s wife viewed it as well and tried constantly to keep one step ahead of him. I can only hope so.
The interior is lovely and comfy and as the wind and rain rattled the window it was unutterably pleasant to pour another large schooner and lob another log or two on the fire and think of what might have been if only my parents had had the foresight to be considerably richer (or to have had fewer children. I’d take that option as well if there were a flashy tower involved).
So what have you lot been doing lately?
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Date: 2014-03-14 12:43 pm (UTC)Landmark Trust I presume? I still look back fondly on my break in the Cotswolds with you chaps.
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Date: 2014-03-15 12:38 am (UTC)D
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Date: 2014-03-17 02:00 pm (UTC)