A brief and affectionate history
Large, important houses, rather like the families who live in them, often 
have humble beginnings. Mount Felix is no exception. In this article you will find the history of The Clock Tower - now the Head Office of Simon Holdings Plc..
The year 1650 had one or two notable events, Prince Charles landed in Scotland, declared himself king and promptly had his army defeated by Oliver Cromwell at the Battle of Dunbar. The Puritans made adultery punishable by death. Wallpaper started to become popular in the homes of those who could afford it. And the world population had just about reached 500 million.
Around Walton-on-Thames things were a little less hectic. In fact, as far as we can tell, the local excitement seemed to be limited to watching the ferry ease its way gently across the river to Shepperton. However, what was presumably a rickety wooden landing stage, was to prove the foundations of the imposing residence of Earl of Tankerville many years later.
During the latter half of the 17th and the early part of the 18th century the land which was to grow into the Mount Felix estate was owned by Anthony and Elizabeth Twine, whose main preoccupation was supplying raw materials to the osiery industry. At that time this was big business along parts of the Thames - it was the growing of willow that could be turned into such necessary items as rods, baskets and crayfish pots.
In 1713 the first of many historical personae took over ownership. The man was Harry Rodney and while his mark on history was only light, he did sire a son he called George Bridges Rodney, who was made an admiral, then sent to defeat the French fleet in the War of American Independence.
Our first man at Westminster
The land next passed through the hands of two brothers - Leonard and William Smelt until it was bought in 1744 by one Samuel Dicker.
Now Samuel was a man of influence. First of all he was a wealthy merchant and being rich has always helped ease one through life’s little ups and downs. Secondly he was a Member of Parliament and then, as now, being in The House had more than a few advantages.
For a man as important as our Samuel the discomforts of travelling regularly to London were proving unbearable, so being such an influential man he 
decided not to bear them. Why risk his neck slithering down steep hills to the water’s edge just to wait for a ferry that was frequently late
and often couldn’t cross the river at all. Samuel proposed a bridge.
Unfortunately he proposed it in the wrong place. It’s almost certain that his original intention was that his bridge should cross the river at Cowey Stakes. Obviously the ferry operators were going to take exception to a bridge wherever it was situated - after all; losing your only means of income isn’t likely to provoke disinterest. But Samuel Dicker MP would almost certainly have been able to handle any objections they would have had. No, the big drawback was that his bridge would have crossed directly in front of the terrace of Oatlands, a house owned by the Duke of Newcastle and such aristocrats, as you have probably heard, are notorious for their dislike of bridges which end up on the ducal patio.
So Samuel went back to the drawing board. By February 1746 he was petitioning Parliament again - this time for a bridge to run from Cowey Hill in Walton to Windmill Hill in Shepperton. Alas, on this occasion it was his timing, which went awry. Throughout the country a Jacobite rebellion was going on and the Government, with little appreciation of Samuel’s problems, gave priority to winning the Battle of Culloden and ridding the country of Charles Edward Stuart, ‘the Young Pretender’. Nevertheless, by November, Parliament once again had life in perspective and gave Samuel permission to go ahead with a bridge at his own expense and to levy toll charges on those who crossed.
In the years, which followed, Samuel Dicker added to his estate. He bought 16 acres, a house and a barn from the Lord of the Manor: he paid £100 for half an acre which he then turned into a lawn and a terraced walk; he bought another half acre of Wharf Field so that he could extend his garden: and for £4.5s.0d he rented the remaining one and a half acres of Wharf Field - land which was subsequently bought by the estate. Despite all this spending, Samuel failed to impress people. In his History of Surrey, Brayley described the grounds as ‘inconsiderable’ and the house as a ‘large edifice of no architectural pretensions whatever’.
The house did catch someone’s eye, though. After Samuel Dicker’s death it was bought by John Zephania Holwell. Mind you, after one of Mr Holwell’s previous residences, to say that the house appealed to him is hardly a compliment at all. Mr Holwell had spent the night in the Black Hole of Calcutta! He was one of twenty three survivors out of one hundred and forty six prisoners who were locked into that notorious dungeon in Calcutta - a piece of survival he attributed to being close to one of only two small holes which allowed in air.
After his adventure, Holwell was determined to lead the quiet life; so determined in fact, that in the seven years he lived at Walton there is no recorded alteration or improvement to the house of any significance whatsoever. However, things were about to change. Mount Felix was about to move up the social ladder. In 1772 it became the property of the 4th Earl of Tankerville.
A home for gentlemen and players
There are many ways in which a man can achieve immortality. Charles Bennet, 4th Earl of Tankerville, chose the noblest way of all: he improved the game of cricket. For many years he had been a keen supporter of the game 
and by 1773 had already helped build a strong Surrey team. Amongst the county side’s players was one of his gardeners at Mount Felix-a man called ‘Lumpey’ Stevens.
So accurate was Stevens as a bowler that in a game against Hambledon he sent the ball three times between two stumps, which were all that were in use at that time, and each time the ball passed cleanly through without removing the bail. This unfair penalising of ‘Lumpey’ Stevens’ accuracy had to stop. The Earl of Tankerville, along with the Duke of Dorset, Sir Francis Vincent and Sir Horace Mann called a committee meeting to review the rules of cricket. They repaired to the Star and Garter Tavern and after the local beverage had loosened their creative faculties, they came to the momentous decision, which has
since echoed around the world. A third stump would be put in between the other two.
In 1789 the Duke of Dorset and the Earl of Tankerville, intrepid as ever, decided the time had come to teach the French how to play cricket. But no sooner were they on their way than they had to return. We can only presume that the reports of that time said simply: ‘French Revolution stops play’.
In the odd moments when he wasn’t applying willow to leather, the 4th Earl did add to the property. He bought land to the west of what is now Manor Road: he bought Crutchfield House along with ten acres and six tenements; and the enclosure of Walton Common brought him an award of four acres alongside Esher Road and a private carriage way known as Brick Kiln Road.
By now Mount Felix was beginning to take shape. A watercolour by John Hassell, in the Weybridge Museum shows a building very much Queen Anne style, with five tall windows on both the ground and the second floors flanking the front entrance. During the 4th Earl’s tenure the grounds had also grown considerably and the gardens contained one of the nurseries reputed 
to have been responsible for the development of the garden pansy. Presumably in a weak moment, the Earl had taken on a gardener who couldn’t bowl a decent line and length.
After the 4th Earl’s death, the 5th Earl took over the estate in 1831. He was already fifty-five years old and not so much a pillar of society as one of its four walls. The new Earl held important Crown offices, was a Privy Councillor and if that wasn’t enough, had a son who was already a Member of Parliament. With so much social face to maintain, the 5th Earl of Tankerville needed an out of town house with an imposing façade of its own. Mount Felix was about to become very grand indeed.
The grand design
In 1837 one of the foremost architects of the time, Charles Barry was appointed to reconstruct the house that, until then, seemed to have more or less sprouted from the soil. This was to be designed on a scale that would have left Elizabeth and Anthony Twine struck dumb in their osier beds, had they only been able to see it. Barry had studied architecture in many Mediterranean countries, but his favourite and the one, which had affected him most, was Italy. His plan for Mount Felix showed just how powerful these influences had been. Perhaps the most Italian features were the construction of a rectangular balconied tower at one end of the building a low-pitched Roman roof and a large style Palladian window.
The 5th Earl had committed himself to spending money and Charles Barry knew how to help him. The elegance of the era was reflected in this house. Including domestic offices, Mount Felix reached around 200 feet in length and the area it covered was certainly necessary to contain the grandeur of the life style. After you had walked through the entrance hall you would then come to an inner hall. After this there was a long entrance corridor to negotiate; so by the time you reached wherever you were going you’d need a fairly lengthy rest. That presumably, was why there was a bedroom on the ground floor.
Besides the bedroom and the domestic offices this floor also contained a library, a gentlemen’s room, a dressing room and both a breakfast room and a dining room. Obviously in this rarefied strata of society, eating more than two meals a day in the same room was a sign of advanced poverty. At the end of this long corridor was one of the many highlights of the house; a beautiful stone staircase, ornately decorated with a balustrade of cast iron scroll work which rose up towards the large Palladian window mentioned previously.
Barry went further than using cast iron only for decoration, however. In the larger rooms where ceiling spans often stretched twenty feet across, he used it as beams to carry the massive loadings.
In striving for perfection, nothing was left untouched. Two lodges were unceremoniously knocked down and rebuilt from the original materials in a spot more in tune with Barry’s vision. The approach road to Walton Bridge, having the temerity to foreshorten the front garden was simply moved a hundred feet further back. By now, you have probably come to realise that small mindedness was not a problem our Mr Barry suffered from.
The part which remains
To the east of the mansion was a building, which was used as a brewhouse and laundry. One hopes for the sake of the Tankervilles palates that they used different tubs for the different operations performed there. Even this building though, was not safe from the Barry’s attentions.
The building had to be restyled to blend in with the main house, 
the major changes being a new roof and clock tower. The clock itself was not new though; it had been installed by a local craftsman called John Johnson in 1772. Johnson was the man who looked after the clock in Walton church - a job that earned him £5 a year.
The brewery and laundry is the one building which remains today. Looking at just how large it is offers some idea of the magnitude of the main house. And restored with just as much care and attention as the building itself is John Johnson’s original clock. Complete with weights and striking mechanism it still rings out the passing of time.
The price of perfection
The construction of the ‘new’ Mount Felix took four years in all. And when all the work was completed there stood one singular unified design. Anything, which had not fitted in with the grand design, had been removed. One unfortunate structure, which suffered this fate, was a large palm house, which had stood close to the mansion. Although not a particularly attractive building its contents were not to be looked down upon - in fact they couldn’t be! The prize exhibit stood fifty feet high with a girth almost eight and a half feet around. North Africa may be near to Italy geographically but to Barry’s way of thinking it wasn’t close enough architecturally. So the palm house had to go.
The giant palm actually went a lot further than trees were used to travelling in those days. The Duke of Devonshire fancied it for a new conservatory at
Chatsworth House. Therefore in the manner of dukes, he sent for it. Obviously no ordinary wagon was big enough for the job, so one had to be built. It was necessary to dismantle tollgates along the 180-mile journey from Surrey to Derbyshire. Eleven horses were also needed to pull the twelve-ton load along the difficult stretches. But the Duke got his tree - and a bill for £1,000.
Everything about the particular episode of Mount Felix’s history was expensive. The total bill for the estate’s rejuvenation has been estimated at somewhere around £80,000. That’s still a lot of money these days, but then it was an amount beyond ordinary people’s comprehension. At this juncture there is a point which should be made. Although for simplicity’s sake the estate has been referred to up until now as Mount Felix, it was only after the renovation was complete that it took the name. Before the rebuilding it was known as Felix Mount. Why it was decided to reverse the name no one knows. Presumably though, if you’ve spent all that money you must feel that the price of a new brass plaque is neither here nor there.
Swiftly changing owners
Despite the cost, the effort and the commitment, the new model mansion was not to remain in the hands of the Tankervilles for long. In reality Mount Felix had reached its apotheosis. Within nine years of its completion the Earl conveyed the property to his eldest son, Lord Ossulston, who in turn sold it to Sir Edward Gambier.
Gambier, who had been Chief Justice of the Supreme Court in Madras, India, only lived at Mount Felix for four years. In 1856 yet another Member of Parliament and founder of the Illustrated London News. Herbert Ingram, bought the house with most, but not all of the land; Cowey Mead
and the meadow and island by Cowey Stakes were not included in the sale.
Eventually the estate became the property of his wife, Ann Ingram, who at least did add to the property. In 1868 she began negotiations for land at the 
corner of Bridge Street and Oatlands Drive. When the deal was finalised she set about constructing a new entrance to Mount Felix. Elaborate wrought iron gates stood proudly between tall, stone pillars bearing the Ingram family crest - and crowning the pillars two large lanterns shone out at night.
When Ann Ingram died, her will stated that Mount Felix was to be sold and the money divided equally between her five daughters, with her two sons acting as executors. A buyer was found who agreed to pay £21,500 for the house, the furniture and 26 acres of land. A bargain you may think, considering £80,000 had been spent less than sixty years previously on renovations alone.
However our buyer was going to get even more of a bargain before he was through. Families being what families are, the sisters and brothers disagreed and so the property fell into Chancery and therefore went to auction. But this time there were fifty acres of land attached to the house. The man who intended to buy it in the first place made the highest bid and so for £25,500 - just another £4,000 - he acquired an extra 26 acres.
A very commercial traveller
Whether the buyer in question needed such a slice of good fortune is debatable. His name was John Mason Cook and he was the son of Thomas Cook, a man not unknown in travel circles. Although the firm was nowhere near as large as it has become today, it was already an influential organisation. Indeed, in the Nile Campaign of 1885 it had been the first private company to transport military personnel into action. Unfortunately no copy of their 1885 brochure can be found; so which particular virtues of an Egyptian holiday they extolled must remain a mystery.
Nevertheless something they said must have been pretty compelling - 18,000 troops decided to take advantage of the offer. During a tour of the Holy Land, which he organised for the German Emperor, John Cook fell ill and, although he recovered enough to return home, he died the following year without ever
regaining full health.
After his widow had also died, Mount Felix stood empty for some time. For four years, all that disturbed the quiet was the first film version of Alice in Wonderland which was shot by a local production company in the grounds in 1903. The real decline of Mount Felix had begun.
The years of decline
The pride of the Tankervilles was now on the market for £23,000, yet still there were no offers. The Clerk to Walton Council suggested that the mansion and some of the land could be used for offices, a library, museum, fire station and riverside recreation ground, but the electorate rejected the idea.
Eventually it was bought in 1906 by William Compton, a clothing manufacturer, who made some modernisation’s, including the installation of electricity. But by 1912 he had tired of Mount Felix and it went to auction, described as being ideal for a hotel or a club. No one was convinced, however, and Mount Felix remained unsold.
War intervened to delay the estate’s loss of dignity. It was requisitioned for use as a military hospital for New Zealand forces and was unofficially renamed Anzac Mount. By 1918 27,000 men had been cared for at Mount Felix and neighbouring Oatlands Park.
Compton had died during the war, so once more the house found itself back on the market. In 1922 the Walton-on-Thames Riverside Development Company Limited bought the estate and began selling parcels of land off for housing. The local authority took a strip of land to widen Bridge Street. Roads called the Ridgeway and River Mount came into being. The wrought iron gates chosen by Ann Ingram, at last decided it was no longer worth staying –so they emigrated to America. The rooms on the first floor of the mansion itself were converted into apartments and the large reception rooms on the ground floor became a country club.
Rising out of the ashes
By 1966 the building and the remaining land was owned by the local council and in that year a disastrous fire damaged the mansion so badly that what remained had to be pulled down. The only part, which survives from Barry’s dream, is the building, which was originally a brewhouse and laundry, and later became a carriage house.
This is known as The Clock Tower, which Wacker Chemicals acquired in 1979. John Johnson’s clock, which had been retained by Barry, has been 
restored by Wacker Chemicals and is still in place to this day. They also had a replacement bell cast at the original foundry and re-hung in the tower.
In 1998 Simon Holdings plc purchased the building and has invested time and money on completely refurbishing the interior of The Clock Tower and completing the extensive works that Wacker had already undertaken to the exterior of the building. The result is a formidable grade II listed building returned to its former glory incorporating the latest technology and modern furnishings along side period features thus providing Simon Holdings with a unique work place of which we are extremely proud.
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Historical Research by John Stonebanks of Walton-on-Thames; the majority of the copy written by John Orr. Thanks to S. Bell, M. Harmes and G. Harmes for additional copy and revision.
Tags: anzac mount, monut felix estate, Mount Felix, The Clock Tower, Walton on Thames, walton on thames history
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