beedingwood | following the footsteps of john harris

I looked up through three floors to the broken, open roof above me. Most of the house’s ceilings, floors and tiles had gone; either swept away or removed by thieves. They’d even tried removing the elegant cast-iron guttering, leaving a pile in the woods for collection later. (An act that annoyed me, because my listed Victorian house could do with some bits-and-pieces, and Beedingwood would’ve been an excellent source).