Thistleton Hall was a large moated hall in Burgh, Hasketon’s neighbouring parish in Suffolk. It’s site is now a private wood shown in the picture above. The hall appears to have had some Tudor origins, but over the years had been gradually developed into a substantial moated timber residence. In 1826 it was bought, along with its associated farmland, by Nathaniel Symonds, whose son, John Symonds (B. 1844) appears to have taken over operations from the 1870s onwards. As indicated by the account below, John became a very respected farmer and horse breeder. He died, childless, in 1921, and the estate was split up, though it continued as a farm into the 1940s.

Sadly, the building was demolished in about 1955 after falling into disrepair and being very badly damaged during World War 2 when it was used as accommodation for American Airmen of the USAF, stationed at Debach Airfield. It seems they were billeted there without any form of heating and kept themselves warm by burning the interior wood panelling!

Judging by the photograph below it was a very grand and ornate building and its loss can only be described as a tragedy.  Boulge Hall, only a few miles away, was also demolished at about the same time. Today the site is a private wood, with apparently little remaining of the building although the moats can still be seen.  The map, dating from about 1905 gives some idea of its location and size.

There is a more detailed description of the Hall on the Historic England website.

The following account of a farm tour starting at Thistleton Hall was printed in the East Anglian Daily Times on Saturday 08 June 1901.  Its a good read and provides some insights into the area and farming practices of the time. The author is not named, but it’s noticeable that the writing style is somewhat similar to ‘the Chiel’, who wrote the account of Hasketon Boundary some years earlier.

Agricultural Gossip.

I know of nothing more really enjoyable than farm walk.  That is, of course, where there is something see, and a wrinkle two to be picked up.  It was my privilege to spend few happy hours in this way a day two ago. The occasion had for me all the greater charm, because at every turn almost there was something to remind me of visits of years long ago, and of members of a family who used to take a little notice of me in the very early days when I first began to move in and out amongst agriculturists of Suffolk in particular, and of East Anglia in general.  The visit was all the more refreshing and enjoyable, too, because of the atmosphere of prosperity, and evidences all around of what can be done by a hard-headed man of great practical skill, and withal in love with his profession.

I may well out with it once.  Confession is said to good for the soul.  It was at Thistleton Hall I found myself the other day.  I need not say where Thistleton Hall is, for is it not the charming home of Mr. John Symonds, and is he not known throughout East Anglia as one the best and most enterprising agriculturists?  No wonder.  He has had a life-long experience.  The members of the family to which he belongs have farmed the same land for about a century—in fact, within a month or two of the 100 years.  Mr. John Symonds has, I mistake not, spent a life-time here, and is not a little proud of his home, the moated Thistleton Hall, which he has done so much to beautify, while scrupulously  careful to preserve the antiquarian features of a delightful old building situated in the midst of surroundings great historical interest.  Enthusiastic antiquarians, men learned in matters and things relating to the past, have revelled here, and I could say much about the Hall in its external beauties and its special internal attractions, but I forbear, because I want to take readers for a short walk—or rather ride—the ground to be covered being too extensive for a walk on a hot sweltering day, and the time too precious to a busy man.

Let me just say, with respect to a brief examination of the rich, oak panelled lower apartments, there was a portrait that caught my eye, and as I looked upon it, much of the past came before my vision, for the late Mr. Symonds—who a lifetime in these parts—and others bearing the same name were well known and honoured agriculturists some—no, I won’t say how long ago, because I may be making a confession unnecessarily elaborate and personal, so far I myself concerned.  But I could not help feeling that time veritably has wings.  Amidst so many other indications of the long past, my eye rested upon an array of silver cups on a fine old sideboard, and these told of trophies in the show ring by the present owner of broad acres in Burgh and the occupier of others.  One was the fine cup presented by Mr. Frank Garrett, Leiston Works, to the Framlingham Association for the Exhibition of Live Stock, for the best Suffolk cart foal bred by and the property of a bona-fide tenant-farmer.  This has be to won three times, and Mr. John Symonds was the first to carry it off.  Amongst others were three won by yearling fillies three years in succession—1897, 1898, and 1899—at the County Shows, and given by that friend to agriculture, Sir Walter Gilbey.

I was favoured, in going round the adjoining stables, to see some of the choice Suffolks of the stamp which have brought honours to the Thistleton Hall Stud.  First was Westwood, two years old, who made his appearance in a strong class at Woodbridge this year.  He is by Wrangler, whose dam was the grand old Juno mare; she is always alluded to in this familiar way, because of her choice progeny.  Others in the stables included another two-year-old.  Golden Boy, by Pratt’s Golden Grain, out of Dido, a Wedgwood mare.  Golden Grain being by Eclipse, so that Golden Boy may boast of having some of the best possible blood in his veins.  He is a nice, long horse, on short legs and moves like a hackney.  Next came Rhode, two-year-old, a winner at Stowmarket as a yearling; she is by Scottish Chief, out of Ruth, another Wedgewood mare, while the celebrated Nectar was the dam of Scottish Chief, and she is now at Boulge Hall, in the stud of Mr. Holmes White.  Rhoda is half-sister to Rosa, sold at one of the shows for 100 guineas to Mr. W. D. Hustler.  Then I was introduced to Burgh Doll, and I was glad to make her acquaintance as the winner of the Framlingham Challenge Cup; she is by Prince Albert, out of Dolly, and Prince Albert is by Wedgewood and Dolly by Field Marshal.  Then the own sister to Golden boy came forward, Delight, by Golden Grain, out of, Dido, second in a group at Woodbridge.

These are some of the choice occupants of the stables.  In meadow close by were three splendid mares with foal at foot, and talk of the Suffolk colour, what could look nicer on fresh pasture gay with buttercups.  Here was Dido, the mother of Golden Boy, the winner of several prizes, and she had by her side a smart horse foal Golden Grain.  The second was Duchess, by Warrior, who has a long list of prises to her credit, which she took as a foal, yearling, and two-year old.  She has a smart filly foal by Saturn. The third was Damsel, by Wedgewood, out of Dolly, a nice mare.  We looked round the yards, and in one were 40 home-weaned Buckinghamshire calves, very thriving and well, while another yard close by was full of shorthorns just ready for the butcher, and grand examples of graining.

I was next treated to a drive round, for it must be understood that Mr. Symonds farms some 700 or 800 acres of heavy land, and I may add that this gentleman is recognised as one the best heavy-land farmers in East Anglia.  In addition to Thistleton Hall, he has Crane’s Farm where breeding sows are kept; the Red House Farm, devoted principally to graining; the Church Farm, and New Buildings. These are all in the parish of Burgh, so that it will be understood that Mr. Symonds has a good deal ® on his hands, especially as he has responsible agency duties in addition to all this.  He is fortunate in having at his right hand Mr. Richard Woodgate of the White House Farm, who, having been with Mr. Symonds for some time is able to take a good share in superintending in the work of cultivating so large an area.  We came first to Hatherley House, where Mr. Symonds’ father resided after the son took Thistleton Hall.  It is now untenanted, but it would not probably be so very long if some “in city gent” knew that such a charming country residence, amidst delightful rural surroundings, was available.  In the yard here was Daisy, a good Suffolk mare by Sailor, with a foal at foot by Mr. William Evritt’s ‘Butley Marquis’.  At the Church Farm were five yearling fillies amongst them being one which secured the first prize at the Suffolk Show Woodbridge last year; she is out of Dorcas, by Wrangler, and Mr. Symonds has four more at marsh.  All these were bred on the place, and do credit to their home.  There were on this farm five SuffolK working horses, and may I mention that altogether on the farms are 35 working horses, practically all Suffolks.

I might make a long story of the visit but the editor has warned me with “mailed fist” not to exceed a column.  I think, however, I have indicated enough so far to show the exceedingly interesting character of the farm ride.  You only had to cast your eye over the fields to form your own judgement as to what sort of farmer Mr. Symonds was.  The crops everywhere looked very promising.  Even the barleys on these heavy lands were well up and smiling, so that evidentially the opportunity of getting them in was made the most of.  Mr Symonds grazes a good deal of his stock – proof of this was afforded by the yards of shorthorns and home weaned Buckinghamshire calves which one saw at the different stopping places.  He is a believer in beet and grows great quantities as vide the clamps of enormous lengths still supplying scores of mouths with choice beet, just now deliciously ripe and good.  By the way, he introduces a little bit of the commercial element, and has plenty of beet seed to dispose of in the market.  This accounted for the considerable number of acres with beet rapidly come onto the seeding stage.  The quantity of land devoted to this purpose would be rather surprizing to the visitor unacquainted with the face that Mr. Symonds makes a speciality of beet seed, though it is one, perhaps, pretty generally known.

The whole occupation – and I embrace the various farms which I have specified – can claim the advantage, which auctioneers never lose the chance of making much of when they have the chance, of being all enclosed within a “ringed fence”.  There are good hard roads all round and practical men will realise that Mr. Symonds, of all men, knows the value of this happy condition of things.  After all, farming is a luxurious avocation when you are in the know, are endowed with health and strength and the will to make the most of the blessings, and, above all have not to put on the considering cap every time you want to spend a pound or two, lest the banker should want to introduce you to his Turkish bath because the limit has been unduly exceeded.  It makes one’s mouth water to contemplate the comparative bliss which would be the portion of those who farm high and well if by chance wheat should once more be 30s a coomb or even £1 with other corn selling proportionately well.  “Any man could farm in those circumstances”, I think I hear some say.  I don’t know.  At any rate, the art is to farm heavy land in large quantities, and to make ends meet in times like the present.

There is just one item I find I have omitted.  Amongst the pictures Thistleton Hall was one the grand Suffolk mares, Diamond, once belonging to the late Colonel Barlow, and on the sideboard was a very handsome cup of chaste design, bearing the following inscription, “Won by Colonel Barlow’s cart mare  Diamond and foal at the Lewes meeting of the Royal Agricultural Society of England, July 1852”.  She was not a big mare, but wide and beautifully made, and I am not sure, but I believe, the progeny of this fine dam, secured by the late Mr. Symonds, had something to with the strengthening at least, if not the founding, of the Thistleton Hall Stud.  At any rate, the late Colonel Barlow gave Mr. Symonds the picture and the cup, and he is naturally proud of them.  ALEXANDRA