Jefferson and the Art of Roofing

Chronicle of the Early American Industries Association, Inc., The, Mar 2005 by Beiswanger, William L

On June 24, 1826, Thomas Jefferson wrote to his physician, Robley Dunglison, asking him to come to Monticello. The doctor knew from the tone of the note to go at once and after examining his patient he became "apprehensive" that the latest attack "would prove fatal." Jefferson, he said, did not "indulge any other opinion."1

Unaware of the illness, Francis Eppes wrote to his grandfather on June 23 from Poplar Forest-the house that Jefferson had designed and enjoyed as a retreat before presenting it to his grandson in 1823. Eppes's letter was tilled with distressing news about the effects of recent heavy rain, about wheat "fairly buried in the mud" and a roof leaking "not in one but a hundred places." He reported, "The plaistering of the parlour is so entirely wet every rain, that I begin to fear it will fall in. Large buckets of water pass through it." Although he speculated that water on the roof boards was being drawn up under the shingles, he was uncertain that he had discovered the true' cause and was left "so completely baffled in every attempt to stop the leaking" that he felt "quite at a loss." Francis inquired, "Knowing that all of your pavilions at the university have tin coverings, I write to learn whether they have ever leaked, and if so what method of prevention has been used." The letter closed, "My love to all, my tenderest love to you my dear Grandfather."2

Only the year before, Jefferson interrupted his own re-roofing campaign at Monticello and sent his slave carpenter John Hemmings and two assistants to Poplar Forest to repair the damage caused by a fire. He was unable to accompany them as planned, but the letters to and from Hemmings indicate that Jefferson directed the covering of the house with tin shingles. This was the latest of the modern materials that he had used, first at the University of Virginia and more recently at Monticello (Figure 1). He claimed that it was the "lightest, & most durable cover in the world" and that it would "last 100. years, & how much more we do not know."3

There is no doubt that the letter from Poplar Forest was received, for on the back, in a clear strong hand is Jefferson's customary endorsement

Epps Francis. P.F. June 23. 26 rec.d June 27.

As far as we know, Jefferson wrote no letters after June 24 and by the 27th he was confined to his bed. He died seven days later on the Fourth of July. Whether a response was given in those final days is not known.

From the time Jefferson began planning Monticello in the 1760s, he took a keen interest in the question of how to shelter oneself effectively and economically from the weather. He approached it as an architect and engineer and considered some of the most progressive roof structures and coverings of his time for a variety of buildings. In at least one case, he can be credited with an innovative roof form. This interest went beyond the theoretical and was based on observation and experience, as might be expected from a man who, according to his overseer, always carried around a little pocket ruler.4

An opportunity to greatly advance his knowledge of building technology came during his stay in France from 1784 to 1789. It was just such an interest that led him one morning in 1786 to the Halle au blé-the Paris meal market-to see the architects Legrand and Molinos's great skylighted dome completed three years before. There he met Maria Cosway, and from their friendship ensued the famous letter to Maria following her departure from Paris. It is known as the dialogue between the Head and the Heart and is perhaps the most self-revealing letter that Jefferson ever wrote. Jefferson recreates the circumstances of their first encounter and reveals the workings of his own heart and mind. The Head complains to the Heart, "I never ceased whispering to you that we had no occasion for new acquaintance; that the greater their merit and talents, the more dangerous their friendship to our tranquillity, because the regret at parting would be greater."

Heart. Accordingly, Sir, this acquaintance was not the consequence of my doings. It was one of your projects which threw us in the way of it. It was you, remember, and not I, who desired the meeting, at Legrand & Molinos. I never trouble myself with domes nor arches. The Halle aux bleds might have rotted down before I should have gone to see it. But you, forsooth, who are eternally getting us to sleep with your diagrams and crotchets, must go and examine this wonderful piece of architecture. And when you had seen it, oh! it was the most superb thing on earth! What you had seen there was worth all you had yet seen in Paris! I thought so too. But I meant it of the lady and gentleman to whom we had been presented, and not of a parcel of sticks and chips put together in pens. You then, Sir, and not I, have been the cause of the present distress.

Head. It would have been happy for you if my diagrams and crotchets had gotten you to sleep on that day, as you are pleased to say they eternally do. My visit to Legrand & Molinos had publick utility for it's object. A market is to be built in Richmond. What a commodious plan is that of Legrand & Molinos: especially if we put on it the noble dome of the Halle aux bleds. If such a bridge as they shewed us can be thrown across the Schuylkill at Philadelphia, the floating bridges taken up, and the navigation of that river opened, what a copious resource will be added, of wood and provisions, to warm and feed the poor of that city. While I was occupied with these objects, you were dilating with your new acquaintances, and contriving how to prevent a separation from them.5