There is an enduring charm to the thatched cottage. A house whose roof, through the careful and masterful weaving together of water reed, straw or combed wheat reed, is the idyll of a country cottage at its finest. Early thatched roofs date back to the Bronze Age, when it was discovered that by creating a thick and tightly-bound layer of locally abundant materials to put atop a house, it can be protected from the rain and (most) forms of weather.
Yes, they had an unfortunate moment when they played a large part in the Great Fire of London in 1666. It is unsurprising, when most of the roofs of the rather compact city were topped with what is effectively a pile of kindling, that the fire took hold and thatched roofs subsequently fell out of favour in urban areas, finding their place in the countryside where space is abundant and such chain reactions are far less likely.
Since moving to to the countryside, they have become the romantic hallmarks of children's stories and grown-up literature alike: they feature throughout the works of Thomas Hardy, Beatrix Potter and in A.A. Milne’s Winnie the Pooh, where they are used to evoke the charm of a rural English landscape. When Cadbury's decided to feature them on chocolate boxes in the 19th century, they became an international symbol of the quaintness of English culture, and the term ‘chocolate box cottage’ was born.
And this is the image that we conjure when picturing thatched cottages today: a sweet, somewhat isolated house, surrounded by fields and, to complete the picture, possibly a climbing rose or a sweet little orchard nearby. This is certainly the case for interior designers Victoria Barker, Elizabeth Hay and Xenia Buckhurst, all of whom have settled themselves cosily into thatched cottages.
But what is it really like to live in a thatched cottage? Are there unexpected perks or challenges? We turn to current occupants to offer us the highs and the lows.
‘I didn’t actively hunt for a thatched cottage’, says Xenia Buckhurst. ‘It belongs to my in-laws. I absolutely love its roof: when you’re inside looking out the windows, the overhang of the reeds on the roof feels enveloping and cosy. It frames the view out of the window and creates a sense of being protected’.
But, upkeep is certainly a consideration. Often owners of thatched cottages don't realise that the reed, being a natural material, will wear down over time, and the roof needs to be re-thatched every ten to forty years, depending on the type of reed used. ‘When the cottage is re-thatched as a ‘multi layer thatch’ they only take off a small layer of the surface’ explains Victoria Barker of Studio Faeger. ‘They’ll layer on top of the older thatch beneath.' In this way the roof tells the story of craft over the centuries. 'I love the idea that there's still some work of some very old ancient thatchers under the roof of mine', she says.
It’s possible to recoup these costs in money saved throughout the year: thatched roofs are great insulators, and can keep a house very warm in the winter months. Inversely, the tight-knit structure and trapped pockets of air throughout means that in summer hot air can’t get in and the house stays cool. ‘Even on a sweltering day outside, inside the cottage was quite cool’, says Elizabeth Hay, who grew up in a thatched cottage, and wouldn’t settle for anything less when it came to finding her house in Devon. ‘A thatched roof feels like home to me. In winter it was always snug and cosy and warm’. Indeed, Victoria has never installed central heating into her Cotswolds cottage. ‘It has been known to hit -8 degrees out there, but somehow with the help of the inglenook fireplace being amazingly engineered to heat the entire back wall of the cottage and the thatched roof keeping the heat in, its stays lovely and toasty.’
It’s worth noting, says Elizabeth, that you will be sharing your roof with surrounding wildlife. ‘They create a habitat. Growing up, I used to have families of swallows building their nests in the overhang outside my bedroom window. It was quite poetic’. Xenia agrees that this is not necessarily a bad thing: quite Snow White-esque in her attitude, she is a fan of the wasps, hornets and squirrels who’ve made a home in her roof: ‘it feels like it’s alive and I love that’, she says. If, like Victoria, you're not so keen on the idea of rodents living in the roof, ‘keeping a tight eye on your wire netting that covers the thatch’ will help to keep unwanted creatures from getting too cosy amongst the reeds.
It’s a charming image, a pretty thatched cottage with smoke emerging from its chimney, but one which has to be approached with caution. It’s not difficult for a thatched roof to catch fire (see above), and care must be taken. It’s inadvisable, says Historic England, to have log burners in a house with a thatched roof. That’s not to say you can’t have a different kind of fireplace, but make sure to have it regularly cleaned and that the top of the chimney is well above from the roof.
Reflecting on a particularly tense childhood moment, Elizabeth remembers the roof of her cottage catching fire: ‘a spark had got out of the chimney and ignited the roof. It was quite dramatic when the firemen came to put it out’, she says. ‘I know our chimney sweep quite well now, as he comes very often’. For this reason, Victoria explains, it's becoming increasingly difficult to insure thatched cottages. ‘Regulations have tightened up so much that they no longer play in favour of our lovely old historic houses’, she explains. It's not impossible, but it is tricky, and will certainly require a series of thatch reports and strict electrical safety certification.
Habitat for local wildlife, in need of maintenance and potential fire risk: all these things are indeed true of thatched roofs. However, there’s a sense of comfort and historic charm that simply can’t be matched by modern alternatives (not to mention the energy efficiency – which these days is a huge bonus). ‘If a roof could hug you, it would be a thatch’, says Xenia.
