From Abbeys, Castles and Ancient Halls of England and Wales, by John Timbs, Vol. II, re-edited, revised, and enlarged by Alexander Gunn; Frederick Warne and Co.; London; pp. 8-11.
Near Hindon, a short distance from Salisbury, the famous Alderman Beckford possessed a large estate at Fonthill, with a fine old mansion, 9 of which we remember to have seen a large print. It possessed a collection of paintings of great value, and costly furniture, which made it a show-house. It was burnt down in 1755; the Alderman was then in London, and on being told of the catastrophe, he took out his pocket-book and began to write, when on being asked what he was doing, he coolly replied, “Only calculating the expense of rebuilding it. Oh! I have an odd fifty thousand pounds in a drawer; I will build it up again: it won’t be above a thousand pounds each to my different children.” The mansion was rebuilt. The alderman died in 1770, leaving his only son — a boy, ten years of age — with a million of ready money, and a revenue exceeding 100,000l. Young Beckford travelled and resided abroad until his twenty-second year, when he wrote his celebrated romance of Vathek, of which he records: —
”Old Fonthill had a very ample loud echoing hall — one of the largest in the kingdom. Numerous doors led from it into different parts of the house, through dim, winding passages. It was from that I introduced the Hall — the idea of the Hall of Eblis being generated by my own. My imagination magnified and coloured it with the Eastern character. All the females in Vathek were portraits of those in the domestic establishment of old Fonthill, their fancied good or ill qualities being exaggerated to suit my purpose.”
Mr. Beckford returned to England in 1795, and occupied himself with the embellishment of his house at Fonthill. Meanwhile, he had studied ecclesiastical architecture, which induced him to commence building the third house at Fonthill, wherein to place a much more magnificent collection of books, pictures, curiosities, rarities, bijouterie, and other products of art and ingenuity, in the new “Fonthill Abbey,” built in a showy monastic style. Mr. Beckford shrouded his architectural proceedings in the profoundest mystery; he was haughty and reserved: and because some of his neighbours followed game into his grounds, he had a wall twelve feet high and seven miles long built round his home estate, in order to shut out the world. This was guarded by projecting rails at the top, in the manner of chevaux-de-frise. Large and strong double gates were provided in this wall at different roads of entrance, and at these gates were stationed person who had strict orders not to admit a stranger.
The building of “the Abbey” was a sort of romance. A vast number of mechanics and labourers were employed to advance the works with rapidity, and a new hamlet was built to accommodate the workmen. All around was activity and energy, whilst the growing edifice, as the scaffolding and walls were raised above the surrounding trees, excited 10 the curiosity of the passing tourist, as well as the villagers. Mr. Beckford pursued the objects of his wishes, whatever they were, not coolly and considerately like most other men, but with all the enthusiasm of passion. After the building was commenced, he was so impatient to get it finished, that he kept regular relays of men at work night and day, including Sundays, supplying them liberally with ale and spirits while they were at work; and when anything was completed which gave him particular pleasure, adding an extra 5l. or 10l. to be spent in drink. The first tower, the height of which from the ground was 400 feet, was built of wood, in order to see its effect; this was then taken down, and the same form put up in wood covered with cement. This fell down, and the tower was built a third time on the same foundation with brick and stone. Mr. Beckford was making additions to a small summer-house when the idea of the Abbey occurred to him. He would not wait to remove the summer-house to make a proper foundation for the tower, but carried it up on the walls already standing, and this with the worst description of materials and workmanship, while it was mostly built by men in a state of intoxication.
In the winter of 1800, in November and December, nearly 500 men were employed day and night to expedite the works, by torch and lamplight, in time for the reception of Lord Nelson and Sir William and Lady Hamilton, who were entertained here by Mr. Beckford with extraordinary magnificence on December 20, 1800. On one occasions, while the tower was building, an elevated part of it caught fire and was destroyed; the sight was sublime, and was enjoyed by Mr. Beckford. This was soon rebuilt. At one point every cart and waggon in the district was pressed into his service; at another, the works at St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, were abandoned, that 400 men might be employed night and day on Fonthill Abbey. These men relieved each other by regular watches, and during the longest and darkest nights of winter it was a strange sight to see the tower rising under their hands, the trowel and the torch being associated for the purpose, and their capricious employer was fond of feasting his senses with such displays of almost superhuman exertion.
Mr. Beckford led almost the life of a hermit within the walls of the Fonthill estate; here he could luxuriate within his sumptuous home, or ride for miles on his lawns, and through forest and mountain woods, — amid dressed parterres of the pleasure-garden, or the wild scenery of nature. A widower and without any family at home, Mr. Beckford resided at the Abbey for more than twenty years, ever active, and constantly occupied in reading, music, and the converse of a choice circle 11 of friends, or in directing workmen in the erection of the Abbey, which had been in progress since the year 1798.
About the year 1822 his restless spirit required a change; besides which his fortunes received a shock from which they never recovered. He now purchased two houses in Lansdowne Crescent, Bath, with a large tract of land adjoining, and removed hither. The property at Fonthill, the Abbey, and its gorgeous contents were to be sold. The place was made an exhibition of in the summer of 1822: the price of admission was one guinea for each person, and 7200 tickets were sold: thousands flocked to Fonthill; but at the close of the summer, instead of a sale on the premises, the whole was bought in one lot by Mr. Farquhar, it was understood, for the sum of 350,000l.
In the following year another exhibition was made of Fonthill and its treasures, to which articles were added, and the whole sold as genuine property; the tickets of admission were half a guinea each, the price of the catalogue 12l, and the sale lasted thirty-seven days.
In December, 1825, the tower at Fonthill, which had been hastily built and not long finished, fell with a tremendous crash, destroying the hall, the octagon, and other parts of the buildings. Mr. Farquhar, with his nephew’s family, had taken the precaution of removing to the northern wing. The tower was above 260 feet high: it had given indications of insecurity for some time; the warning was taken, and the more valuable parts of the windows and other articles were removed. Mr. Farquhar, however, who then resided in one angle of the building, and who was in a very infirm state of health, could not be brought to believe there was any danger. He was wheeled out in his chair on the front lawn about half an hour before the tower fell; and though he had seen the cracks and the deviation of the centre from the perpendicular, he treated the idea of its coming down as ridiculous. He was carried back to his room and the tower fell almost immediately.
Mr. Farquhar sold the estate about 1825, and died in the following year. The “Abbey” was then taken down, merely enough of its ruins being left to show where it had stood.