DARTMOOR ROUNDHOUSE
The farmstead on which we live dates from before the twelfth century. The darkened beams and deep stone walls have witnessed the passage of many lifetimes and every room is steeped with the richness of a history that has slowly unfolded since rural mediaeval times. There is, however, a more ancient presence on this land: from the end of the Neolithic Stone Age and throughout the Bronze Age (5000-3000 years ago) the wide hills of Dartmoor were settled by clans of people who constructed the many hut communities, stone circles and stone rows that are still visible across the moors today. Most of the hut circles are gathered in
upland settlements, varying in size from a few buildings
to large groups of a hundred or more. The huts vary from
dwellings of 6-12 feet in diameter to a small number of
structures spanning up to 30 feet across. These were obviously
constructed for gatherings or ceremonial use. In most cases
today the remains of these huts consist only of the base
stones and, occasionally, fire pits or timber holes. Upland
communities moved to lower valleys from Iron Age times onwards
and since then the ancient settlements have been left relatively
undisturbed. We began to dig in early spring 2001. The structure was sited so that the door would open eastwards to the rising sun and moon, and away from the prevailing winds that roar down from the northern plateau of the moor. Early excavations revealed a vast unmovable granite block, around which we re-sited the hut so that the rock now runs both inside and outside of the back wall. We also found pieces of worked flint, deeply buried and last touched 5000 years ago. Work to clear and level the site moved at a steady pace and later that year, 300 people gathered with bagpipe, flute and drum to bless the foundation stones.
We carried out the physical work of construction, assisted at each stage by skilled local craftspeople. Work on the first phase of the roundhouse gathered momentum in the Autumn of 2001, with the heavy job of collecting and sorting granite, and the building of the thick (over 3 feet deep) dry stone wall. Earth and small stones were used to fill the wall cavities. Granite of the right size and shape, a surprisingly precious commodity on this granite-strewn landscape, was begged and donated from any local hoard we could find! Two things slowed our progress during the following winter - the machinations of a planning authority at a loss as to how to define us; and the quantities of rain and mud that swamped the site! The first was overcome by sheer will power and the overwhelming support of the local Dartmoor community. The second was handled with buckets, a dogged sense of humour and many a hot brew. Before the stone ring was completed, a magnificent red deer stag visited the site, standing in the early morning light at the centre of the hut.
Better weather in early 2002 brought us to the timber phase of construction. Eight Dartmoor oak trees were raised to support the roof of the roundhouse, with a cone created from hemlock poles pegged onto an oak ring beam and bound with hazel cross pieces. An arch of heavy oak formed the doorway and then it was time for the thatching. Since no metal was used in the structure of the roundhouse, the rye grass thatch was sewn on by a traditional method using long wooden needles. Rye grass was chosen both because it was an ancient crop and because its fine structure was well suited to the shaping of the roof. It was the only material that we were unable to source locally, being shipped from Poland. The roof cone was tapered to a fine point leaving smoke to filter out through the layers of grass. Within two days of its completion, swallows moved in and built a nest high in the apex of the cone, where they remained all summer.
We laid a granite floor around the inside edge of the hut, and between door and hearth, leaving the centre of the floor as bare earth, which we stamped and smoothed with feet and hands. A double door was woven from willow and hazel, and large skins hung from pegs inside the doorway. The setting of the fire pit was a significant moment for us - the first fire, fuelled by heather and sweet gorse wood gathered from the hills, seemed to awaken the building, and as we sat hunched over those new flames we could feel the roundhouse begin to….fill.
The filling of this ancestor house has continued. It feels as if the roots of our roundhouse have stretched out and spread, reaching out long tendrils through the peat bogs and below the interlocking streams, touching and winding around other, more ancient, roots. There they have found something - something that has emerged from a deep ancestral core, that has long been held within the dark damp earth below the old hut circles on the surrounding hills. Something is feeding through to this place. An old magic, a strange alchemy, a shimmering possibility. Sometimes it feels very close. Shadows thicken around the wall of this hut, fire casts amber light upon oak pillars, mist blows across the marshes, and we wait…. When the land is still even
shadows pause
Feel
our skin is touching, do you feel our skin is touching? |
