ROOFS; SHINGLES; TILE; THATCH: THE ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES
OF EACH.—THE USE OF THATCH IN AMERICA.—HEREFORD.—CHRISTIAN
HOSPITALITY.—A MILK FARM.—THE HEREFORDS.—A DANGEROUS MAN.
[Sidenote: _TILE AND THATCHED ROOFS._]
Somewhere in this region, we passed two small churches or chapels with
roofs of wooden shingles; in both cases the pitch of the roof was very
steep, and the shingles old, warped, and mossy. These were the only
shingle roofs I recollect to have seen in England; but I was told they
were not very uncommon upon old farm-buildings in Devonshire. The
roofs hereabouts, generally, are of flat tile. In moulding these tile,
which are of equal thickness at both ends, a hole is made in the upper
part, by which they are pegged to slats, which run horizontally across
the rafters; (about London a protuberance is moulded upon the tile,
by which it is hung.) This peg is covered, as the nails of a shingle
are, by the lower part of the tile of the next tier above it. If no
precaution to prevent it is taken, there will sometimes be crevices in
a tile roof, through which snow will drive; in dwellings, a thin layer
of straw is often laid under the tile, and sometimes they are laid in
mortar. _Pan-tiles_ (common on old houses in New York) are also made
tight with mortar. Roofs of this kind will last here about twice as
long as shingle roofs with us, without repairs, and are fireproof.
Unless laid over straw, they give _less_ protection than shingles
against heat and cold.
The roofing material changes completely often in one day’s walk;
flat tiles giving place to slates, slates to pan-tiles, &c. In
Monmouthshire, the roofs are generally made of a flat, shaly stone,
called _tile-stone_, quarried not less than an inch thick. It is laid
with mortar, or straw or moss, like tile, and requires strong timber
to support it. The better class of houses and modern farm-buildings,
almost every where, are slated; sometimes metal-roofed; very rarely
covered with _compositions_ or felt. Cottages and old farm-houses and
stables, every where, except in the vicinity of slate quarries, are
thatched. Straw thatch is commonly laid about eight inches thick. Its
permanence depends on the pitch of the roof. Ordinarily it may last
twenty-five years; and when a new roof is required, the old thatch is
not removed, but a new layer of the same thickness is laid over the old
one. Frequently three and sometimes more layers of thatch may be seen
on an old building, the roof thus being often two feet thick. It is a
cheaper roof than any other, and is much the best protection against
both cold and heat. The objection to it is that it harbours vermin, and
is more liable to take fire from sparks than any other. The danger of
the latter is not as great, however, as would be supposed. I saw and
heard of no houses on fire while I was in England, except in London.
I frequently saw cottages in which coppice-wood was being burned, the
top of the chimney not a foot above the dry straw thatch, and the smoke
drifting right down upon it. The danger from fire would be somewhat
greater in America, where wood is more commonly used as fuel and rain
is much less frequent. There are some situations in which it might
be safely employed, however, (if on dwellings, the chimney should be
elevated more than usual,) and where it would form the cheapest and
most comfortable, and much the most picturesque and appropriate, roof.
[Sidenote: _COTTAGE WALLS._]
The cost of the thatched roof of a double cottage, fifty by fifteen
feet, is estimated at one hundred and forty dollars, of which about
forty dollars is for straw, forty dollars for thatcher’s work, and the
remainder for the frame, lath, &c.
The walls of labourers’ cottages are of stone, or brick and timber, or
of clay.
In making the latter, which are very common, the clay, having been
well forked over and cleaned of stones, is sprinkled with water, and
has short straw mixed with it, and is then trodden with horses and
worked over until it becomes a plastic mass. The more it is trodden
the better. A foundation of stone is first made; one man forms the
prepared clay into balls, or lumps as large as bricks, and passes these
to another, who lays and packs them well and firmly together, dressing
off smooth and straight with a trowel. After the height desired for the
wall is attained, it is commonly plastered over inside and out with a
thin coat of more carefully prepared clay, and whitewashed. This makes
an excellent non-conducting wall, equal, in every respect, except in
permanence, and almost in that, to stone or brick. Very respectable
houses, as villas and parsonages, are sometimes built in this way. It
costs about 30 cts. a square yard.
I once or twice saw the walls of cottages made of or covered with
thatch, and have no doubt, as long as vermin were kept out of them,
that they were, as was asserted, exceedingly comfortable. These were
gentlemen’s country boxes, not labourers’ cottages!
* * * * *
[Sidenote: _HETERODOXY._]
On reaching Hereford, a city of 10,000 inhabitants, we were met by
a gentleman to whom word had been sent by some of the “Brethren” at
Ludlow, who begged us all to come to his house, and, upon reaching it,
we found rooms prepared for us, and his family expecting us. This
hospitality was entirely unexpected: the gentleman was a stranger
to us; we had not even ever heard his name before; nevertheless, he
contrived to make us feel perfectly at home, and free to dispose of our
time to suit ourselves.
After tea he walked with us about the town, and took us a little into
the country, to see a small milk-dairy and orchard-farm. The cows were
of the Hereford breed, but not full-blooded, nor have we seen many
that were. Most of the cattle in this vicinity have more or less of
the marks of the breed, and their quality is about in proportion to
their purity. The poorest cattle I have seen in England were within two
miles of Hereford, but there was no mark of Hereford blood in them, and
they had probably been bought out of the county, and brought there to
fatten. The best milkers on this farm were not the best-bred cows. The
average value of the herd was not far from $35 a-head. They were kept
in a long stable; mangers and floor of wood, a slope of half an inch
in a foot to the latter, with a gutter in the rear. They were entirely
house-fed, on green clover. They were milked by women, and the milk all
sold in the town.
Late in the evening, our host called with us on the Rev. Mr. ——,
a right warm, manly, Christian gentleman, who, though in domestic
affliction, on learning that we were Americans, received us most
cordially. We found him singularly familiar with American matters, both
political and theological; a portrait of Dr. Bushnell, of Hartford,
along with that of Dr. Arnold, and other worthies, was over his mantel,
the last “New-Englander” on his table, and a fragrance peculiarly
adapted to make an American feel at home, soon pervaded the atmosphere
of his study. We had a most agreeable and valuable conversation, and
it was long before we could return to the hospitable quarters which
had been provided for us for the night. Mr. —— is an Independent, or,
as he prefers to be called, a Congregationalist; accounted somewhat
heterodox, and treated with a cold shoulder by some of the scribes
and doctors, we were afterwards informed; but of this we discovered
nothing, and imagine him to be merely a peculiarly candid, humane,
and genial man, only less than usually disguised or constrained in
expression, by habits, precedents, and dogmatic forms.