|
|
A New Roof |
Possibly the most exciting thing to happen in the 20 odd years that I have been working at the Clergy House has been the prospect of the house getting a new roof. First mooted in 1984 as a really worthwhile project to celebrate the centenary of The National Trust in 1995 or the acquisition of the house in 1896, the house is finally being almost completely re-thatched in the Autumn/Winter of 2005.
Although not immediately obvious from these photos, the roof is in dire need of restoration. (L) The ridge has completely merged into the roof itself. (C) The roof is slipping down and decaying badly. (R) Moss forming on the North side has caused the thatch to rot severely in places.
According to anecdotal evidence, the last complete re-thatch of the house was undertaken in 1937 although minor touching up has been carried out over the years. A new ridge and major repair work to the Western gable was undertaken in the wake of damage sustained during the "Hurricane" of 1987 and a further patch-up was required following severe storms during the winter of 1991.
Subject to much debate as to the most appropriate material to use in the re-thatch, the house is at present, covered with water reed. This is an expensive commodity and current thinking and archaeological evidence point to the fact that it would have originally been thatched with long straw. (There is no evidence to suggest that there has been a history of water reed growing in our part of the country and the roof would have had to have been imported at great expense specifically for the purpose. Long straw however, would have been a cheap and readily available product of the grain harvest). It could be argued that water reed could have been used merely to emphasize the status of the building but houses of this type had fallen out of favour relatively quickly. (It could also be argued that clay peg tiles would have emphasized the status of the building far more effectively).
Preparing for the re-thatch has been nothing short of a nightmare. The list of people with a vested interest to be contacted before work could get under way reads like a cast list from a Cecil B de Mille epic. A rare form of nearly microscopic moss, (Leptodontium gemmascens) has been found growing on the roof and devising a plan to transplant it into the new thatch has been the subject of much debate. One end of the thatch containing the moss is being left in the hope that the moss will migrate into the new roof and re-colonise areas if the transplanting does not work successfully.
(L&C) Before any work could begin on the North side our rare moss had first to be found before being painstakingly inserted into the Eastern gable (R).
Once established in the Eastern gable, the roof could then be dressed and cleaned ready for thatching.
Our resident bats have also proved to be troublesome. We had expected them to have moved to their winter hibernation quarters before work started but they seem to be reluctant to move out and are resolutely staying put. This has meant major adjustments to the scaffolding to prevent it from impeding their flight paths when they emerge at night to hunt.
The fig tree has had to be drastically reduced to allow scaffolding to be erected.
From a gardening point of view, the new roof could be considered a minor hiccup in the scheme of things but has already caused great upheaval. Even before the first bundle of thatch had been laid the oak pergola to the western gable that I built single handedly to replace one that collapsed in the hurricane of 1987 has had to be removed and the fig tree that provides such welcome shade in high summer has had to be drastically reduced to facilitate access for the scaffolding from which the thatchers will work.
"MY" pergola gets the chop.
The front and east borders are now completely devoid of plants and scaffolding has been erected right round the building.