‘This is thatching twenty-first century style and he made quite a quick job of removing the top layer of weathered and mossy reed with which the roof thatch was covered. For this he used a petrol hedge-clipper, expertly wielded to give a fine smooth finish to the reed’
On the 3rd of August last year we had the opportunity to watch and follow with interest a skill that is practically unheard of in many parts of the United Kingdom. A thatcher replacing the ridge on a thatched roof. The building, a single story cottage, has had its present thatched roof since 2007. In that time, as most natural materials would, it suffered from weathering and the unwanted attentions of our feathered friends. However, it had not been attacked by squirrels which I understand can be the case in some circumstances. The roof was still very weatherproof but the thatched roof had become untidy and much moss had taken a hold on the surface reed of the main area. The straw of the ridging thatch, although secured by chicken wire (which had itself become somewhat tatty and had an untidy look to it) was obviously not at its best and was showing signs of becoming loose and fragmented.
This roof needed a good refurbishment.
And this is when the thatcher, a very nice chap called Stewart Alexander, started his work. Stewart started as an apprentice when only sixteen, and since then has been involved in the trade,eventually becoming a master thatcher himself. Stewart surveyed the roof of the building, a cottage comprising a single storey building and luckily he would not need to fully scaffold the whole building as he was not replacing the whole roof, just the ridge line.Had the building been two or more stories high he would have had to deploy a scaffold company to attend and make a scaffolding structure to his requirements that would allow him safe access whilst the roof was fully stripped back. After organising his materials and ladders etc he began the job. Luckily for him the weather was warm, sometimes very hot and dry but it at least let him get on without resorting to waterproofs for the most part.
With his ladders in place, the first thing he did was to brush off the main roofing thatch, removing as much of the moss and loose and weathered reed as he could. This took quite some time and he then started to remove the old chicken wire. Next, he went on to remove the much weathered straw ridge work. It was a very dusty and time consuming job. By the time Stewart had finished this stage of the work he must have removed about fifteen one-ton builders’ bags, with maybe more of weathered straw which had eventually to be incinerated. This was a dirty and dusty job but on a couple of the days whilst he was thus engaged it rained which may have been a blessing as it kept the dust to a minimum, at least for short time.
After days of hot and dusty work, the ridgeline thatching and wire was removed, he explained he would be shaving the roof next,after a further good brushing to remove still more weathered reed and moss. I had visions of him taking perhaps a sharpened scythe-like tool and carefully taking the top layer of thatch off.
How wrong could I be? – Please play the video.
This is thatching twenty-first century style and he made quite a quick job of removing the top layer of weathered and mossy reed with which the roof thatch was covered. For this he used a petrol hedge-clipper, expertly wielded to give a fine smooth finish to the reed; this again was quite a dirty and dusty job. I was very surprised to see that after the ‘shaving’ the main roof looked so much better so soon, the good quality ‘under-thatch’ being revealed. Let us not forget that the roof has two sides, plus gablesand windows inset into the thatch, and also in this case the cottage was constructed in an ‘L ‘ shape so there was much removal and re-positioning of ladders, aluminium staging, ladder supports etc, and even more one-ton bags of roofing detritus.
Whilst doing all of this, any patches of failed thatch were removed and replaced. Looking at the photos, occasional patches of lighter thatch where new reed had been added on the main roofing can be seen. Stewart took a lot of trouble to clean and tidy up after himself as the waste he had removed had grown to mammoth proportions. Watching the work progress we could see the form of the thatched roof begin to show through as it should be. Then one day he arrived with…new roofing materials. Several truck loads later he decided he would have just enough.
Now, up to this point all the work had been preparatory and had to be done in a careful manner to preserve the integrity of the remaining thatching. At this point he was to start on re-ridging the roof.
Much of this work was out of my sightline but I did manage to grab a few snaps of the progress. It was a mammoth task, trekking up and down carrying loads of straw, twisting it to shape, laying, pegging, then down for more and repeating it all over again. Stewart took great care to add additional straw layers to maintain the roof’s level lines where the original straw ridge had compressed over time.
It was about now that Stewart produced a couple of unusual hand tools of his trade. I will take a bit of time to describe them. The first one is a legget which is used this to pat and level the straw. I had never ever seen anything like this item before but evidently is a tool that seemingly all thatchers use. It is made so as to be able to pat and flatten the reed or straw into place from any angle. It is about nine inches x eleven inches, with a handle at an angle that the user finds most comfortable. Some leggets are made from machined steel, others are made from a flat piece of timber with cut and angled ridges in them.
Stewart’s was made from marine plywood and copper rings held in place with staples; it had seen a lot of use. Stewart also had a similar tool for working in confined spaces or on the angles where one part of the roof met with another, this is called a ‘Dutchman’ and I had no idea where its name came from but a bit of research provided an answer. Apparently the tool is so called because it resembled a clog, well, maybe other ones do. Stewart had made his to his own design. There is also his thatcher’s mallet and here are all three to gauge their sizes.
Lastly, Stewart had a tool that was almost the ‘Swiss Army Knife’ equivalent of his set, used for a multitude of different jobs. This is his billhook, which had a single edged blade of about a quarter inch thickness and was extremely sharp.
Now to get back to the job in hand…
I would say that at this stage, the job was seen to be progressing well. The straw hanks had been laid and pegged, then one day Stewart arrived with dozens of ash battens about twelve feet long; these were to strengthen the ridge. The battens were added end-to-end and again pegged down to keep the straw level and would eventually give a pleasing diamond pattern to the ridge. The roof was finally coming together and all of the above had taken about three and a half weeks plus to complete, but it was not finished yet, there was still much to do.
At this stage, an additional skill was called to the fore. I really think Stewart must also have been trained as a barber, as he expertly clipped the ridgeline straw into pleasing shapes. No petrol-powered hedge-clippers or other electrical or petrol-driven tools this time, just very sharp hand-held shears, in fact two pairs, one long handled and one short handled, oh, and a good eye for keeping the trimming level. Once the clipping and shaping was almost complete, it was time for Stewart to add the chicken wire protective covering. I was told this was not strictly necessary but helped to keep the thatch in place when high winds, rain and storms did their best to undo his hard work, also the wire would help keep inquisitive birds and squirrels from invading the newly shaped and clipped straw ridge line in the future.
The wire had to be cut to shape, bent, twisted, wired together and formed around the various patterns and angles of the new ridgeline. It was secured with steel pegs to the new straw ridgeand this task took a goodly length of time, as the wire seemed unruly and had a mind of its own. I noticed Stewart had plenty of scratches on his arms and hands from handling the wire and twisting and hammering in the pegs to secure it but he seemed oblivious to these and just ploughed on with the work. Eventually the wiring down was completed.
Now, I was told, he had to completely assess the roof and make any final small trimmings or similar, give it a final brush down and the work would be completed, except for one thing… Around the chimney stack, there was a cement collar to be moulded and shaped. The collar had to be almost white to match the rest of the cottage, being a grade two listed building dating from the early 1600s, with some timbers that themselves were even older. All the roofing work had to be correct and kept to the original style.Stewart constructed a former from timber around the chimney above the thatch and made a cocktail of cement and lime to make a robust and weatherproof off-white chimney collar.
This done, and after a final check around, the job was finished.
I think you will agree that once it was complete it looked a fine job indeed. The new thatched ridgeline will take about two years to mellow and will also take on the colouration of the rest of the roof. As the roofing job had progressed and Stewart appeared one day with the ash batten-strips, I saw immediately that the strips were just perfect for making frames for my bentwood landing netsand Stewart kindly provided me with a couple of the ash Battens to experiment with. It seems strange that two such disparate occupations should have a common manufacturing item but used for such different purposes.
Finally I should add that Stewart is himself a dedicated species angler and spends lots of time, when work and home life allow, targetting eels. He must have a singular focus, as the last time we spoke he had just completed his seventeenth consecutive blank pursuing the species.
Thankyou for reading the above. I hope that you find the piece at least as interesting as I did whilst I watched a skilled tradesman carrying out a job that I had never seen done before. Until next time…
David Craine – Summer 2026, Lincolnshire
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