Pages

Showing posts with label houses. Show all posts
Showing posts with label houses. Show all posts

Monday, 19 February 2024

HEARTH AND HOME: Going Up In Smoke

 The Tudors didn’t invent brick, or chimneys, but they experienced a small revolution in house-building, by making common use of both.

Bricks, made of clay fired in a kiln, had been around since Roman times, but they had to be mass-manufactured so they had less appeal as a cheap and readily available material for building than timber, wattle and daub. The wealthier could afford them, and so, as the country grew wealthier so did more and more people. Ironically, the Black Death helped. It may have wiped out between a third and a half of the population, and put back its recovery by several centuries, but England began to move from being a third-world supplier of raw materials to a manufacturing economy (okay, the Welsh kept goats and Scotland was Scotland). There was less pressure on land and… well, let's just settle that the country got richer, with funds available to be spent on building more substantial and durable houses.

Despite the Wars of the Roses, Spanish Armadas, Civil Wars and general uprisings, the country also became a little more civilised. There were less anarchic warlords chasing each other around and laying siege to their castles, which were no longer quite so safe now that gunpowder was on the scene. So castles of stone with walls twelve feet thick gave way to country manors and palaces built of brick.

from the Tres Riches Heures de Duc de Berry. Quite a few chimneys

Chimneys had long existed in buildings that were several storeys high, or there would be no chance of heating them without choking everyone to death. Stone-built castles were one obvious example. In modest urban dwellings of only two floors, a smoke void at the rear would be sufficient, but for prosperous merchants who had no option but to build upwards rather than outwards, because of lack of ground space, chimneys were de rigeur.

Where there was space to expand, in the country, it was more normal, in Medieval times, for at least one hall to be left open to the rafters, to allow the smoke to rise and escape through high vents.

Bayleaf at the Weald and Downland museum

Brick changed this. One of its benefits was that, unlike timber, wattle and thatch, it didn’t catch fire, so chimneys became a must-have feature of every house but the humblest hovel. Even in half-timbered houses, brick allowed a chimney to be added.

New houses could be built around a huge central chimney with several flues, bread ovens, and enclosed hearths. The taller the flue the better the draw on the smoke. The need to have a hall open to the rafters, was gone, and that meant that upper floors could be inserted. Blackened timbers, nursing old soot, hidden away in closed lofts are a sure sign that a house once was once open to the rafters.

Brick could be moulded or cut, and chimneys were regarded as a sign of status, so naturally chimney pots became a means of boasting and an outlet for artistic exuberance. No small discreet pot for the Tudors, with a cowl to keep the rain and jackdaws out. Tall and extravagant was the order of the day. If you had it, flaunt it.

Even when building with stone, the chimney was a dominant feature that demanded attention.

While chimneys allowed for upper floors and carried the smoke away quite successfully, the hearth usually remained much as it had been when it had occupied the centre of the hall. A serious bonfire was needed to heat a good-sized room. In some cases, fireplace were large enough to be almost rooms in their own rights - inglenooks, where people could sit cosily round the fire.

fireplace at Cilewent farmhouse in St Fagan's Museum

Raising the fire on firedogs or grates allowed a better airflow into the flames, but it wasn’t until the end of the 18th century that improvements were made, with the Rumford fireplace, shallower and angled to reflect more heat into the room and siphon the smoke away more efficiently. Since I always try to mention Jane Austen, General Tilney boasts that he has improved the fireplace in Northanger Abbey. Catherine, who hankers after all things Gothic, is not impressed.

Fires were not only used for heating, but for cooking, of course. Bread oven and charcoal ranges for saucepans could be added, but generally kitchens had open fireplaces with assorted ironware – spits and cradles and hooks - for roasting and boiling.

one of several fireplaces in the Hampton Court kitchens

With the coming of the industrial revolution, coal replaced wood as the fuel. It produced very efficient heat but also unpleasant and noxious smoke. Roasting on a spit before an open fire was no longer possible without tainting the meat, so enclosed ranges were introduced, with an iron oven and, frequently, a water boiler with tap.

This did mean that the roast beef of Olde England became the baked beef of Modern England, which is mostly what is eaten today. They were roasting large joints on a spit before a wood fire in the Hampton Court kitchens when I last visited, but they wouldn’t let me try any. Health and Safety, I ask you.

Fancy visiting a few places?
Try
Weald and Downland Museum (near Chichester)

HEARTH AND HOME: Timber!

 Here's another post about old houses.

Some places have a lot of easily splitable or workable stone, and if you had it, you used it, but elsewhere the most convenient material for building houses was wood. After the last ice-age, Britain was largely covered by woodland, although that was seriously reduced with the arrival of agriculture. As an aside, I say woodland rather than forest because in Norman times ‘forest’ was a term that referred to royal hunting grounds with gory penalties for poaching, rather than an impenetrable blanket of trees.

The woodland was largely oak and hazel which, when combined, made very effective structural materials that have come to epitomise Tudor England. Oak – especially heart of oak – is hard, strong, resistant to rot and woodworm and was used (is still used, if you can afford it) as the framework for buildings, with huge timbers pegged together, allowing a bit of charmingly quirky shifting and creaking.

Pegged timber framing illustrated at the Weald and Downland Museum


The spaces between the timbers were filled with woven split hazel wattle, liberally daubed with a mixture of clay, mud, straw and cowdung. Yummie.

wattle and daub illustrated at Tintern Abbey

One of the earliest types of timber construction used cruck beams, which made use of the natural curve of some massive timbers, taking the weight of the house from roof peak to ground. Use two or more pairs of crucks, as the basic support for a house, and build the rest around them.

A cruck-built house in Weobley, Herefordshire

Smaller curved timbers were also used to brace framework, and stop the whole thing from collapsing. Bayleaf, a satisfyingly elegant wealden house at the Weald and Downland museum illustrates the bracing beams, in a house that is more wattle and daub than heavy timber.

Bayleaf

But timbers were often used more liberally. Two variations were common. Box framing produced a grid of vertical and horizontal timbers. This was especially common in the west of the country.

Box-framed house in Eardisland, Herefordshire

In the east, close vertical studwork was favoured, as in this example at Ightham Mote in Kent.


The traditional image of Tudor England is of two-tone houses with startlingly black timbers and brilliant white plaster. In reality, untreated oak will weather over time to a silvery grey.

silvered timber on a cottage in Kent


Limewash or plaster was often used to protect not only the wattle and daub but the timbers too. This house in Eardisley (Herefordshire), illustrates both plastered and exposed timbers.


Plastering, especially in the east, was taken to decorative extremes with the art of pargetting, as with this example in Saffron Walden.



Ship’s timbers, blackened with tar, produced the picture-book image of black and white houses, especially in the west and Welsh marches. The contrast of timber and plaster was recognised as a forceful visual statement, leading to timbers being used not merely as supporting framework but as decoration in their own right. The Feathers Inn in Ludlow is a prime example.



The Feathers also illustrates how timber framing could allow houses to increase in height, expanding as they did so, with jutting floors. In many Medieval and Tudor towns, houses on either side of lanes could jut out so far they nearly met. Most examples were demolished and replaced in later times. One five-storey example that survived until the 18th century, to be recorded in an etching, stood on the corner of Chancery Lane in London, resembling the stern of a galleon.


By Tudor times, brick was becoming ever more common as a building material. Timber was still used as framework, but herringbone brickwork began to replace wattle and daub as the infill.

Brick infilling at the Weald and Downland museum.


The appeal of at least the appearance of half-timbering survived its decline as a genuine means of construction. The Gothic revival that began in the 18th century resulted in stone or brick houses being given a fake half-timbered facelift, like Plas Newydd, in Wales, a stone house “improved” by the Ladies of Llangollen.


The lure of Merrie England reached the spread of middle-class suburbia in the 1930s, with a rash of mock-tudoring. Never miss an opportunity to slap on a bit of timber.

Coulsdon Road, Couldson, Surrey

Recommended Place to Visit

HEARTH AND HOME: Ancient Houses

 I spent thirty years making hand-crafted, carved and turned miniature furniture. Well, you have to do something, don’t you? My business, Pear Tree Miniatures, came to an end because I reached retirement age but, more importantly, my eyes could no longer cope with the fine detail. But as I relinquished my business website, along with all the articles I had created on the subject of (British) old houses and furniture, I thought I would transfer much of it here, to my author’s website. So here’s the first instalment, about the very earliest houses in prehistoric times i.e. in times before written records.

Creswell Crags, image by Nigel Homer

There’s a lot of talk about the property market, regarding houses as investment, but down the centuries what a house really meant was a home. Homes start with shelter. In a society of hunter gatherers, permanent shelters are not required. Better to make do with a hastily raised shack of whatever is available, or maybe an available cave, if not already inhabited by something hairy with big teeth.

Starting about 4,000 BC in Britain, the neolithic era introduced farming, which meant settling down to tend a particular piece of land, so shelters were intended to be more permanent. Their inhabitants worked on turning them into an environment of their choosing, with furnishings and, most important, a hearth for cooking and for warm. The majority, built of wood, wattle or turfs, have long vanished into the dust but the homes of Skara Brae on the Orkneys were built of the only material available - stone, and were buried in sand that kept them surprisingly intact until are more than 4,000 years old, until a storm in 1850 uncovered them.

It wasn't just the houses of Skara Brae that were built of stone. It was the furniture too, which has survived to proved that they but they had it all, even toilets. The houses were all similar, half buried int the earth for extra warmth and protection, without windows, but with an all-important central hearth, a dresser facing the doorway, cupboards, bed frames. Pottery and beads have been found there.

Skara Brae, image by M J Richardson

The Bronze-age, starting in Britain in about 2,500 BC, didn't make significant changes to house styles, using materials readily available, and since they were usually wood or wattle, very little has survived other than post holes and burned hearths. An exception is the bronze-age village at Must Farm, in the fens, which was built on piles over water. When it caught fire, it collapsed into the water and was buried in silt, so for once timbers, wattle, thatch and textiles have survived.

Round houses continued to be the normal construction through the Iron Age (from about 800 BC in Britain), and through and beyond the Roman occupation. Since a reconstructed Iron-age village, Castell Henllys, is just around the corner from me, I have got to know them quite well.

Castell Henllys Chief's house

Round houses are big. The chief's house at Castell Henllys is 13.75 metres diameter (45 feet to those still using groats, furlongs, bushels and gills). There is just one room but areas are partitioned around the central hearth - areas for sleeping, for food preparation, for weaving etc.

Construction is all guesswork, of course, but based on the postholes left by the originals. The wall are woven with hazel wattle, finished with daub containing essential ingredients such as hair and urine.

The most important place in the house was the central hearth, providing heat and a source of cooking, although clay ovens could be built for baking. There is no hole for the smoke to escape. If there were, the house would probably burn down, set ablaze by flying sparks. Instead, the smoke is trapped at the top of the house, quenching sparks, before gradually filtering out through the thatch.

Then the Romans came, bringing with them roads, windows, upper floors, under-floor heating, pretty mosaics and nice square corners, at least for the wealthy Romanised Brits, living in villas.

North Leigh Roman Villa, image by Richard Croft

Most people probably continued living in round houses, and virtually nothing of what the Romans brought was adopted by later generations. It all disappeared into the earth... except for one thing: writing. As history is about written records, the arrival of the Romans marked the end of prehistory.

For more about Castell Henllys,
Places to visit
Find out more about Must Farm