I love a wonky, medieval, building.
They are full of character and quirks. The contrasting colours in the dark timber and the creamy – sometimes muddy – plasterwork, or the slender patterns of the masonry. Blocked up openings lead us to question where and why. Window cills or heads may be askew below wavy rooflines. Decorative detailing, carved into the timber, or on stonework reveal hints of the personality, the thoughts, interests, beliefs maybe, of former inhabitants – though this far separated from them in time we can only speculate as the meaning or purpose. Speculating can be fun, can stir the imagination. The sign (in my case) of a writer.
At the start of the week, I finally took advantage of my ‘free’ time to do something I have wanted to do for a long time. I attended one of the monthly tours of the medieval Dragonhall in Norwich, and was inspired.
Dragonhall is a medieval hall which as a building represents my combined passion for writing and architecture. It is a lovely merchants hall, with a long story of occupation, adaptation and extension. As it stands it is a glorious mix of timber, wattle and daub, flint and masonry historic fabric and glass, steel and timber contemporary extensions and repairs. The story of the building and it’s occupant built into the structure stretching back nearly 600 years. The current occupants, contributing to the history, is the National Centre for Writing.
And it has taken me 7 years to take a tour (yes, I am appalled at myself).
This wasn’t my first actual visit to the hall. I have walked past and round admiring the external elevations on many occasions. A few months ago, I attended an open day as part of the Heritage Open Days, and prior to that I visited the Norwich Festival Publishers Fair. On both occasions the main focus was the magnificent grand hall. A double height half-timbered room, with crown post trusses sweeping overhead. The space filled with tables ladened with books, and milling visitors.
But this occasion took us down into the cellars, and up into the functional rooms. Outside onto King Street and into the courtyard. Heritage details were pointed out, the story of its life explained and the changes in the fabric resulting from the ebb and flow of the occupants highlights. This is definitely a tour I would recommend to anyone, especially if they have an interest in the social and physical heritage of Norwich.
Like many urban buildings, the story of Dragonhall, is one of frequent change. To read the historical report and learn more about the site, visit: A short history of Dragon Hall, Norwich (dragonhallnorwich.org.uk)
It starts with evidence of Saxon occupation 1,000 years ago, though the exact configuration and extent have been lost to the mists of time.
Phase one of the hall we know today as Dragonhall was a medieval hall house which stood on the site, alongside a neighbouring Abbey/ Priory, in the 14th century (1300s). This formed the basic foundation – ground floor footprint even – of the building that we see today.
Phase two had the most lasting impact on the fabric of the hall. Robert Toppes, wealthy fabric merchant, built the half-timbered first floor, with now-missing oriel windows, to store and trade his imports. For some reason, the rear portion of the first floor construction – which projects beyond that of the original hall house – was built at slightly different alignment to original. This can be seen by looking up at the underside of the first floor where it projects. Standing in what would have been part of the external yard, but today is enclosed as a glazed corridor, you can see the floor joists increase in length as they span from the ground floor wall to the main support beam.
In addition to constructing the first floor, Robert Toppes adjusted the cellars and expanded the door surround to the visitor entrance. The 14th century ogee stone door frame can still be seen today, surrounded by Topes’ enhanced surround of Normandy stone surround including decorative heraldic shields. It is a clear reminded that people have always wanted to make a space/ building/ place their own, to turn something of history to their own purpose.
Fabric was the basis of Robert Toppes business, and he was able to bring it directly from the River Wensum which runs at the end of the plot as it was then. From there it was stored and traded in the great hall.
It must have been an impressive place to work, (though perhaps this is looking back with a modern perspective as we no longer have the open, half-timbered construction, but to the workers this would have been their daily experience, likely both at home and at work). The space would be filled with scents, from the fabric and dies of the trade goods, to the body odour of the occupants and any crushed reeds or herbs that might be spread across the floor as ‘carpet’. Sounds of voices in conversation and bargaining and the tread of footsteps and creaking timbers would have carried in the air.
Part of the first floor was portioned off to form a possible office, perhaps the base of the clerks who completed the paperwork to record sales, track inventories, process the finances and matters of tax. Perhaps there would be the more muted sounds of rustling of paper (perhaps velum or parchment) and the scrape of quill nibs. Here there was even a small peep hole over the visitor’s entrance to monitor those below. We will have to use our imagination as to why they might want to do that!
Looking closely at the timbers to the north of the great hall, there is a break in the detailing which could suggest the position of a large opening. Perhaps this was where the fabric was brought into the hall, the creak of the ropes, the groan of the winch and curse of the operators adding further to the buzz of activity.
At some point, a similar half-timbered first floor hall/ building was constructed alongside, extending along King Street, and spanning the trackway used to access the visitors’ door. The fabric is intertwined, and two doors – of different dates – constructed at first floor. The dates, purpose and owner of this development is unknown. The mysteries of heritage buildings are sometimes as fascinating, and inspiring, as the stories we understand.
At Robert Toppes death in 1467 the hall was sold. Now, the life of Dragonhall becomes shrouded in mystery. This is phase 3, the least clear in the historical records. Dragonhall ceased to function as a trading hall and may have become a townhouse for a wealthy resident.
Phase 4 (ish), in the 17th century, the hall was subdivided into 6 dwellings, with the Old Barge pub created in the former visitor’s hall (first recorded in 1805), and tenement buildings constructed within the courtyard.
All of these changes have left impacts on the fabric that can clearly be read today – though this is a result of decisions made during refurbishment in the 1970s and 80s (we will get to that.)
Externally, the traces of the six different front doors can be seen in King Street. Some have windows in, one retains a letter box, others entirely filled in. One still has a functioning door.
An archaeological excavation as part of the refurbishment process – and left exposed to enable the story of the hall to be told to its fullest – revealed that the floor level of the ground floor, where there was no cellar, was lowered. (The exposed archaeology, also shows changes in floor levels from other periods, though less easily dated.) Here also the fireplace and base of the chimney installed at this time remains visible and extends up to the ground floor, where a witches mark can still be seen carved into the timber lintel.
In the great hall, joist holes for a second floor installed at this time are clearly exposed. The 6 dwellings created would have been very narrow, and tall – four stories, or three with an attic room. The partition walls between them were likely to be quite thin, so occupants would be well aware of their neighbours movements, privacy which a concept that we appreciate and long for, was clearly impossible to achieve here.
Portions of wallpaper linger on the wall timbers – a very personal, if faded, connection to former occupants. The grand oriel windows were replaced with a motley collection of windows at unusual heights, again suggestive of the changing floor levels.
Phase 5, in the 1937, slum clearance removed much of the crowded construction that had developed over the previous centuries. The Dragonhall was upgraded from 6 to three properties. The Old Barge Pub was retained – extending from the rear of the hall to front onto King Street – a Butchers shop created to the north, and a priests’ house or rectory in the centre.
During the second world war, the hall had a miraculous escape from bombing which destroyed the nearby St Julian’s church (now rebuilt), suffering only minor damage.
Phase 6. Recognition of the historic importance of the building started to dawn in the 1950s, when it was listed in 1954. But it wasn’t until the 1970s when Norwich city council purchase the hall that steps started to be taken to protect it after a long period of inoccupation.
As with any refurbishment and restoration, decisions were made as to how best preserve and represent the story of the building. Much of the 17th century alterations were removed, especially at first floor, to return the great hall to its original glory. In doing so, the marks of history were left for those interested enough to read the story built into the fabric.
Once again Dragonhall – so called for the dragon carving in one of the crown post trusses which will form the basis of a future post – is a working building. It has not been frozen in time as a museum piece, although the fabric is treasured for the gem that it is. People visit in groups, or individuals to participate in workshops, meetings, social gatherings and as part of their daily working life.
A building gains it’s life, its purpose, from its occupants. A trading hall, dwelling houses, pub, and now writers centre all fill Dragonhall with people and activity. I can’t help wondering how many of those in the past have appreciated what they were inhabiting? What they were leaving behind for others to share? Do their ghosts linger unseen, as memories in the fabric of the building itself? There are lots of stories to be told from this one building alone. Perhaps one day, I will consider how best this is to be done. I certainly think it would be an interesting project to try.