Boots's Folly is a curious and
mysterious structure. It quite obviously contains masonry from an earlier farmhouse. The entrance has a 17th century datestone and the windows of the lower storeys contain old mullions obviously
extracted from elsewhere. The upper windows are by contrast, relatively modern, with metal frames. The interior is now ruinous, but enough of it survives to reveal that it consisted of a wooden
staircase leading around the walls up to a single chamber on the top storey, which is still floored. Beyond, another small staircase presumably gave access to the upper turret, where there is a
flagpole.
The folly is basically a fanciful 'castle' built in the style of of a pele (or 'peel') tower, the traditional defensive homestead of the anglo/scottish border. Like most follies, various stories exist explaining why it was built. According to one account it was the work of a grieving widower, built so he could look across Bradfield Dale to the churchyard where his dear wife was buried. The truth is rather less romantic, for the fifty foot high tower was built in 1927 by Mr. Charles Boot, who lived nearby, simply to entertain his friends! The date is remarkable, this must be the most modern folly so far encountered in our travels.
Mr Boot used dressed stones and mullions cannibalised from demolished farms to build his belvedere. Inside, a wooden staircase wound round to a viewing platform. Local legend asserts that not too long ago a curious cow found its way into the tower, climbed the stairs and got hopelessly stuck! A rescue attempt then had to be launched to extricate the stricken animal. Perhaps it was to prevent a re-occurrence of this that the lower section of the internal staircase was removed. Consequently there is no longer any access to the viewing platform, which is sad.
There are some unanswered questions hereabouts. The tower stands in a green pasture obviously reclaimed from the moors, as the two large piles of stones on the hillside testify. But when was the field cleared? Even more intriguing are the massive fragments of decorated classical columns and bits of ornately sculpted masonry lying adjacent to the path, slumbering in the heather on this windswept hillside. What are we to make of them? Obviously great expense and labour was employed to get the materials to this remote spot. It seems unlikely that they were brought here simply to be left. Could it be perhaps that our friend Mr. Boot had designs on constructing another folly, a project which fate prevented from coming to fruition? We have already seen that Mr. Boot was in the habit of cannibalising older buildings to get the materials for his follies. Perhaps under other circumstances we would have been visiting not only Boot's Folly but 'Boot's Temple' also. And a final question:- where were the columns cannibalised from? they are probably 18th century in origin, and were perhaps associated with some stately home, or aristocratic stable block perhaps.
The folly is basically a fanciful 'castle' built in the style of of a pele (or 'peel') tower, the traditional defensive homestead of the anglo/scottish border. Like most follies, various stories exist explaining why it was built. According to one account it was the work of a grieving widower, built so he could look across Bradfield Dale to the churchyard where his dear wife was buried. The truth is rather less romantic, for the fifty foot high tower was built in 1927 by Mr. Charles Boot, who lived nearby, simply to entertain his friends! The date is remarkable, this must be the most modern folly so far encountered in our travels.
Mr Boot used dressed stones and mullions cannibalised from demolished farms to build his belvedere. Inside, a wooden staircase wound round to a viewing platform. Local legend asserts that not too long ago a curious cow found its way into the tower, climbed the stairs and got hopelessly stuck! A rescue attempt then had to be launched to extricate the stricken animal. Perhaps it was to prevent a re-occurrence of this that the lower section of the internal staircase was removed. Consequently there is no longer any access to the viewing platform, which is sad.
There are some unanswered questions hereabouts. The tower stands in a green pasture obviously reclaimed from the moors, as the two large piles of stones on the hillside testify. But when was the field cleared? Even more intriguing are the massive fragments of decorated classical columns and bits of ornately sculpted masonry lying adjacent to the path, slumbering in the heather on this windswept hillside. What are we to make of them? Obviously great expense and labour was employed to get the materials to this remote spot. It seems unlikely that they were brought here simply to be left. Could it be perhaps that our friend Mr. Boot had designs on constructing another folly, a project which fate prevented from coming to fruition? We have already seen that Mr. Boot was in the habit of cannibalising older buildings to get the materials for his follies. Perhaps under other circumstances we would have been visiting not only Boot's Folly but 'Boot's Temple' also. And a final question:- where were the columns cannibalised from? they are probably 18th century in origin, and were perhaps associated with some stately home, or aristocratic stable block perhaps.