“The people who like this kind of house are people who want their home to have
a bit of personality,” says Michael Clark of Jackson Stops and Staff. “They
don’t mind the fact that the windows aren’t huge, the ceilings aren’t high
and the rooms are a bit dark. They accept them as they are.”
They mourn them accordingly, too.
“She was a living, breathing thing,” sighs Susan. “Unfortunately, the
extractor fan in our bathroom short-circuited and set light to the roofspace
and the thatch.
“One minute, we were living in a beautiful, historic, Grade II listed house;
the next, we were staring at half a million pounds’ worth of ash, and living
in DSS accommodation for the homeless.”
Such was Susan’s commitment to her old house, though, she set about rebuilding
it exactly as it had been. When asked if, in the circumstances, she might
prefer a less flammable slate roof, she replied very firmly that no, she
wanted the original thatch.
The result is Sleap Cottage Mark Two, a six-bedroomed home that, with the
addition of the odd en suite and some fire-retardant material in the roof,
replicates its predecessor in almost every detail (£665,000 with Wilkinson
Grant, see box far right).
“We’ve even managed to incorporate one of the charred roof beams from the old
house and build it into the lintel above the fireplace,” says Susan. “So,
although we are no longer Grade II listed, a small part of the old place
lives on.”
It’s the other way around, of course, with most of the other Devon longhouses,
which are altogether more ancient than modern. That said, what they all have
in common is an elongated rectangular shape, a sloping floor, and a front
door that you can walk through and carry straight on until you exit through
the back door.
And the reason for these features? Well, when originally built, Devon
longhouses were designed not just to accommodate humans, but their animals
as well.
The cows occupied one half of the house (known as the shippon), while their
two-legged owners occupied the other (slightly raised) half. The forces of
gravity transported the animals’ waste down a sloping central gutter and off
the premises. The two sets of living quarters were divided by what was
called the cross-passage, which connected front and back doors.
The purest embodiments of this style are to be found today on Dartmoor. And,
of these, the most unspoilt is the longhouse at Higher Uppacott, preserved
by the Dartmoor National Park Authority and periodically opened to the
public.
Built in about 1350, this primitive granite home is a reminder of how closely
humans and animals used to live. “It’s built with rock from the moor and
it’s built right into the moor,” says park ranger Bill Allen, for whom
Higher Uppacott is home. “It stills sends a prickle down my spine when I
step inside the shippon. There’s that deep silence, like you get in a
country chapel in the middle of nowhere.”
Mind you, the longhouses of today are nothing like as spartan as their
earthen-floored forebears. Apart from anything else, they’ve had upper
floors added, whereas the original models were strictly one-storey.
Take Higher Westcott Farm (www.higherwestcottfarm.com),
a 400-year-old longhouse that has been converted into a sleek little
boutique hotel. It’s run by London couple Jo Gossett and Sam Perry, who
moved here from Hackney four years ago with son George. Like previous
owners, they have divided the house into two, but not along animals-humans
lines.
“We live in one half of the house, and we offer our guests the other half,”
says Jo, a former Conran restaurant manager. “The place was very dark and
dingy when we bought it. We had to pick off seven layers of wallpaper and
remove a solid wall of breeze blocks from the fireplace. Right from the
start, though, we could see how much character the place had.
“When we lived in Hackney, we had a bus stop outside our front door and a
street light that shone right into our bedroom window. Here, we’re 1,000
feet above sea level and, at night, it’s pitch black outdoors.”
Meanwhile, indoors, longhouse owners are surrounded by history. Carved into
the fireplace at Suzi Carman’s house (17th-century Buckingham Farm, near
Beaworthy, £585,000 with Miller and Son), are traditional symbols designed
to ward off evil.
“They’re called witches’ marks,” says Suzi. “You can see a cross with a little
round dot in either corner. Very atmospheric and rather reassuring, too.”
And while most longhouses have been converted from one to two-storey homes,
some retain their original ceiling height.
“Our dining room goes right up into the roof,” says Sarah Moore, the owner,
with husband Robert, of an eight-bedroomed longhouse near Newton Poppleford
(The Gardens, built 1510, £769,000 with Wilkinson Grant). “When we look
upwards, we see 500-year-old thatch, blackened by years of smoke.”
Time was, of course, longhouses had no chimneys, but were heated by an open
fire in the middle of the room. And while there’s no one alive now who
remembers those days, there are plenty who can recall the days before mains
power arrived in rural Devon (circa 1962).
“We met an old lady whose family lived here for much of the 20th century,”
says Anthony Sparrow, who is selling his 15th-century longhouse at Morchard
Bishop, near Crediton (Wigham, £1.4 million with Winkworth). “She told us
that, in the spot where our kitchen now stands, the occupants used to pump
up water from the ground and light their night lamps when it got dark.”
Others, too, have collected stories about their longhouse heritage. John and
Carol Mussell have lived for 15 years in Little Snodwell, their
four-bedroomed home near Honiton (£665,000 with Chesterton Humbert), and
have discovered the cottage next door used to be a pub.
“It was called the Royal Oak, and the herders would go in for a drink, leaving
the younger lads outside to look after the animals,” says Carol. “Instead of
doing that, though, the boys would leave one of their number on lookout
duty, and sneak in for beer and cigarettes, which were sold to them by the
two women who lived here. They apparently did a roaring trade.”
Even today, longhouses still offer their owners an array of business
opportunities. At Southcoombe Farm, near Tiverton, Bill Warnett has built up
a holiday complex in his longhouse back yard, comprising five holiday barns
and cottages, and one indoor swimming pool and leisure centre (£1.8 million
with Knight Frank).
“Two people could probably run the business, working full-time and doing
everything themselves,” says Bill.
And longhouse uses don’t stop there. The layout means the property can easily
be divided into two halves, providing accommodation for, say, elderly
relatives.
“My late parents lived here and it worked out very well,” says Sarah Moore.
“It was perfect for them, because they were separate from us, but at the
same time under the same roof.”
In short, anyone who owns a longhouse has nothing but good things to say about
it. Hardly surprising, then, that West Country estate agents tend to use the
word somewhat liberally.
“It is a bit of a loose term,” agrees Michael Jones of Miller and Son.
“Basically, ‘longhouse’ means a period farmhouse that hasn’t been mucked
about with too much, and still has most of its features.”
Not that buyers seem to care too much about the distinction (some purists say
there are only 125 genuine longhouses left in the country). What they are
looking for is a house that will be an antidote to city living.
“I’d say 50 to 60 per cent of longhouses go to people from outside the county,
mostly London,” says property finder David Hindom of County Homesearch.
“They provide the complete country package: they’re secluded, sheltered and,
more often than not, offer uninterrupted views.”
On top of which, they come with a quirkiness that either entertains or
exasperates.
“Personally, I love the way longhouses don’t have corridors,” says Sarah. “You
go from one room to get to another, and then from another to get to another.
You either think it’s charming, or it drives you quite mad.”
A buyer’s guide to longhouses
Look into the history
If you are looking for inspiration, then pay a virtual visit to Higher
Uppacott, the Dartmoor National Park Authority’s longhouse at www.virtuallydartmoor.org.uk.
Don’t be put off by the purists
Who says genuine longhouses have to be primitive and hewn from granite? There
have been plenty of other changes since the first ones were built in 1350.
Learn the jargon
A “shippon” is where the cattle used to be housed. A “muntin” is the screen
that separated the animal area from the human area. And “tallet” is the open
attic where the hay and other animal fodder were kept.
Hug that heritage
Many people believe Devon longhouses are the best-preserved examples of early
man-and-animal cohabitation in Western Europe.
Think twice if you’re tall
You can tell a new longhouse owner by the bumps and bruises on their head. The
door lintels can’t be raised, so you’ll have to shrink, develop a ducking
instinct, or buy a house with more headroom.
Don’t expect neighbours
These houses were all on farms, so they are, by their nature, in isolated
spots. As a result, they tend to be sheltered from the wind and have
far-ranging views.
Do some price comparisons
There’s no standard going rate for a longhouse. Prices range from £550,000 to
£850,000, and break the £1 million mark when there are holiday barns and
cottages attached.
Look for the owl hole
There was always a little opening in the shippon, through which owls could fly
and feast on vermin. A medieval alternative to Rentokil.
Don’t expect corridors
Longhouses don’t have them (at least not on the ground floor). Only in the
17th century did people start wanting private, non-communal rooms, connected
by corridors.
Think about thatch
Some insurers can get nervous. You may have to find a specialist firm, such as
NFU Mutual, Lark or Adrian Flux. It may need replacing every 50 years or so.