Down In the Woods Today

Well, actually about a week ago, for this folly which is not part of the Rame group but lies further north in Mount Ararat Woods just along from Pentillie Castle. I read about it in a short but very enticing reference in Headley & Meulenkamp: they call it ‘excellently decayed and really creepy’ and describe the ‘delicious thrill of terror’ it provided. Looking at the map and observing a trackway to the site, but no public footpath as such, I wasn’t sure whether it was possible to reach, but decided to investigate anyway. I wedged the car as hard into a bank as I could to keep it off the tiny road that leads to the woods, and strode off in wellies through a gate. The gate bore a little tin sign that disconcertingly read ‘PRIVATE NO ACCESS’, but as the gate was wedged open you couldn’t read this until you investigated, so gingerly I carried on. The gingeriness was only worsened by pheasants exploding out of hedges every few seconds, and eventually I came across an entire enclosure full of pheasants, so decided to turn back. There was a lower path, however, and I took that instead. After a couple of hundred yards this second path turned southwards and the Mount Ararat Mausoleum came into view.

And what a reward: what appeared to be a small castle, embattled and set against the darkness of the trees, appeared, along with a pair of information boards which rather assumed that random members of the public would indeed be stumbling along at some point to find the thing. These described the controversial career of Sir James Tillie, the madman responsible for the fabric you now see, who caused it to be built as a resting place for his mortal remains; but, the story goes, his intention was not to be buried, but to be seated permanently in a specially-made chair to await the Resurrection, dressed and furnished with pen, paper, and with food delivered at regular intervals by the servants. What became of his body when the Parousia failed to occur in short order was not actually recorded, but now there is an exceptionally grim and ill-tempered statue gazing forever from the stone courtyard, rather unreasonably as the view of the Plymouth Sound he enjoys is actually quite pleasant.

The gloomth and decay described by Headley & Meulenkamp has given way to a firm restoration carried out a couple of years ago, so the monument now looks quite spruce. Is this really what a folly-hunter wants, one may wonder; but during the refurbishment the flagstones of the floor were uplifted and human remains found beneath. So Sir James still seems to rest where he intended, if not in the same mad manner as he planned.