A distinctive building form which Ireland can be proud of is the round tower. While Scotland has two, and the Isle of Man has one, the round tower is mainly an Irish treat!
I visited this site recently – at Timahoe, roughly 50 miles southwest of Dublin. It is one of the finest surviving examples – of which there are roughly 120 in the country.
These towers are generally sited close to a church or monastery and are believed to have been used as a belfry (its Irish name is Cloigtheach – meaning bell house). The tower at Timahoe is considered to date from the mid-12th century, with round towers more generally thought to have been built between the 9th and 12th centuries.
Timahoe has a diameter of 5.6m and rises to nearly 30m in height: a slenderness ratio of about 5.3. Many of the other “complete” round towers have a similar slenderness. This is ambitious for buildings of this period, particularly in Ireland where the wind can be strong, and is a far higher ratio than seen in most contemporary Saxon parish church towers. As expected though, the wall is massive and steps in over the height of the tower, which contained six storeys. The floors were of timber. Timahoe also has a suspicious lean – the result of ground movement it seems – so I hope someone is monitoring this.
Two curiosities arise from my visit: why is the entrance placed 5m above ground level, and why did this build form not occur more often in other parts of the British Isles?
On the first question, one theory I have seen is that they provide better structural integrity compared to if the door opening was placed at ground level. Whilst I can see the logic, I am not wholly convinced 9th century builders would have thought in this way. Could it have been partly ceremonial? Or a form of security against someone ringing the bell without permission, or as a defence against raids? Does anyone have any other theories?
As to the 2nd question – I am still working on that one……..
How can we use our buildings to enhance the character of the South Downs?
As many will know, this National Park forms a relatively unique region of the country – chalk download nestled between the muddy Weald and the English Channel. It is symbolic of much of British history. Whilst we have sheep to thank for grooming the grassy escarpments, the character of this area is also the result of its vernacular buildings.
The majority of these are on view in the villages that sit in the river valleys or below the escarpment. However, this ignores the buildings that sit directly on the downland itself. These are mainly agricultural buildings, and sadly, many are redundant and decaying. They could disappear without help.
What can be done? Ultimately it is about finding a sustainable use for these buildings so that they can look after themselves.
One thought I keep coming back to is to tap in the how the South Downs are used for leisure. It is an extremely popular area for walkers and cyclists – even in winter. Could we create the equivalent of the Scottish Bothy – allowing such people to sleep out on the Downs? I appreciate demand could outstrip supply – but that can be an advantage provided controls are put in place. They could be managed like a B&B (but with only one B in the name!) so people could book accommodation and pay a small fee – akin to a Hostel.
Landowners could be encouraged as it could provide alternative income. Ultimately it would provide a new lease of life to these derelict buildings. And for anyone who has walked the South Downs Way – wouldn’t it make the logistics so much simpler! And doing it on a bigger scale – across the whole district may give it more impetus.
I appreciate this raises many questions and challenges, but it is important to debate such issues to bring these buildings some love.
What is our greatest Heritage challenge?
I am sure many will have different views, and each will be soundly argued, but my answer would be our rural parish churches.
I am constantly impressed by the articles presented on LinkedIn which show how a wide range of technical conservation issues are tackled. With the funds in place – often through grants - long may this continue. But is this approach truly sustainable?
The best examples of conservation are often found where buildings have a use that is self-sustainable. This requires the use of buildings to generate sufficient income to enable them to be maintained, without having to rely on grant funding and the direction of political winds. Can we expect such grants to continue to be available in a world where there are more and more demands on how public money is spent?
It is worth noting that of some 16,000 English parish churches, about three-quarters are listed, and some 3,000 are listed Grade I. That forms a significant proportion of the heritage Assets in England alone. Many are underused and empty, a point that was heightened during the pandemic. There is anecdotal evidence that historic timbers in churches are suffering from renewed beetle attack due to them being shut and unheated during the recent lockdowns. These buildings naturally represent highly important cultural, architectural and historic artefacts. There have also been some strong arguments made for considering the significant wellbeing value that these buildings bring.
So – what solutions exist?
There have been some successes – such as the trial of accommodation pods within the Diocese of Herefordshire, reported on by SPAB recently. It is also great to see the issue being debated by the Historic Religious Buildings Alliance recently. From my own observations, it appears many urban churches are reconnecting with their communities in new ways. But I sense the steeper challenge is with our rural parish churches.
This brings me to the image of St Thomas a Becket, Fairfield on the Kent Marshes. The image speaks of the challenge: the village of Fairfield - which it serves - is somewhat small, and the number of parishioners smaller still. So – like many churches across the country, what robust sustainable future does it have – other than as a destination for landscape photographers such as me?
The parish church was traditionally the centre of focus on village life. Somehow, this connection needs to be re-found. I feel we cannot treat them as museum pieces - that approach is not sustainable.
What is the Sussex vernacular?
Many would answer this differently – depending on where they live and travel, but the true answer is it is broad-ranging.
To name but a few, it covers timber-framing, flint, clay tiling, brick and of course stone – including Horsham slates and Wealden stone, which was once described by Alec Clifton-Taylor as the loveliest building material of south-eastern England.
A curiosity of the county is that the Wealden stone can be very local, and so one can travel about for weeks without coming across it and then suddenly it is everywhere.
Bodiam offers one of the finer examples of the stone – and formed in massive blocks – which is not so common. Whilst it has a reputation of being a fine freestone, in my experience its durability can be a highly variable and often needs handling with care. It also tends to be highly porous and does not take kindly to embedded ironwork.
But Clifton-Taylor is correct: it is a lovely stone. It exudes warmth and gives its buildings a welcoming feel.
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