Bespoke – Grant Thornton

20
in business and, like many men of that
period, he wanted to buy alarge estate
in the country.’
His will caused asensation. None of
his children, grandchildren or greatgrandchildren
was to benefit from his
fortune, apart from asmall, shared
bequest. Instead, his estate was to be
left in trust to accumulate for three
generations, whereupon it would be
divided between ‘the eldest male lineal
descendants of my three sons then living’.
If there were no such descendants,
it was to be used to help pay off the
national debt –anotion that must have
raised morale within the Treasury. Indeed,
how the current Chancellor of the
Exchequer must lie in bed wishing for
such exceptional circumstances to come
his way in 2009.
The Thellusson family were
dumbfounded and angry, dismissing the
will as ‘an object impolite and pernicious’.
Immediately, they sought to have the will
reversed in court, amove that guaranteed
abarrage of publicity that would not have
been welcomed by his three sons, all
of whom had gone into politics.
‘Peter Thellusson has been portrayed
as amiser but Idon’t think that was the
case,’ says Carr-Whitworth. ‘Certainly,
he was aprudent man and it would seem
that he wanted his sons to continue in
business rather than join the ranks of the
The family was
dumbfounded
and angry,
dismissing the
will as ‘an object
impolite and
pernicious’ and
immediately sought
to have it reversed
idle rich. He had astrong Protestant
work ethic and he wanted that to be
passed down the generations.’
To his children’s chagrin, the courts
upheld the will. But the case eventually
led to Parliament passing the
Accumulations Act 1800. This, in short,
made it illegal to leave money to people
not yet born. Ironically, by the time
the Thellusson family could claim its
inheritance, in 1856, the amount of
money to be shared between Frederick,
the fourth Lord Rendlesham, and
Charles Sabine Augustus Thellusson was
not much greater than that originally
bequeathed, largely because of the money
spent on litigation.
Parallels have been drawn between the
Thellusson/Woodford situation and
the Jarndyce versus Jarndyce case in
Charles Dickens’ Bleak House. Dickens
never referred directly to the Thellusson
controversy, but in the preface to
Bleak House he singles out one particular
case in the Court of Chancery that caught
his attention.
‘At the present moment,’ he wrote,
‘there is asuit before the Court which
was commenced nearly 20 years ago;
in which from 30 to 40 counsel have
been known to appear at one time; in
which costs have been incurred to the
amount of £70,000… which is (I am
assured) no nearer to termination now
than when it was begun.’
Brodsworth was in limbo for nearly 60
years, after which Charles Sabine Augustus
Thellusson set about rebuilding the
house, employing alittle-known architect
called Philip Wilkinson to supervise the
work. The result is adelightful blend of
Italianate High Victorian and urban
efficiency, reminiscent of grand London
homes and clubs. Naked marble maidens
pose in niches of dark yew; evergreen
shrubberies surround acroquet lawn;
and aparterre is screwed to the earth by
monster monkey-puzzle trees.
Perhaps fittingly, Brodsworth went
through another period of uncertainty
in the late 20th century, when successive
generations struggled to maintain the
house, at which point it was placed on
the English Heritage Buildings at Risk
Register. In1988 Pamela Grant Dalton,
the granddaughter of Constance
Thellusson, gave the house, its contents
and its gardens to English Heritage,
and anew chapter began.
Today, Brodsworth is open to the
public and makes for an exceptional
day out. But as you wander through
the immaculately preserved rooms and
lovingly restored gardens, it’s hard not to
think of the children of Peter Thellusson.
They must have loved the place more
than anyone but spent their entire adult
lives fighting for the right to enjoy it.
PHOTOS ©JOHN CRITCHLEY, ENGLISH HERITAGE PHOTO LIBRARY. ILLUSTRATION PETER JAMES FIELD
www.grant-thornton.co.uk