What Happens When You Set Fire To A Fat Hobbit And Watch It Burn …

As The Inkspots so memorably (and mellifluously) crooned, “I Don’t Want To Set The World On Fire.” 

Well, sometimes - whether we want to or not – it turns out that we do have to set little bits of it on fire. Sometimes we have to take something really cute and cuddly and stick it in a kiln and burn it to destruction (omnes: "Bwa-ha-haaaa”).

This is what happened to Fat Hobbit, my fire test piece for the mediæval doors I’ve designed for Norwich Castle.

Before we tested a full-sized door we built a small one using four different jointing methods (one for each quarter of the door) to find out which was the most effective so that we could incorporate it into the final design. These fire tests are fifteen grand sterling a pop so we want to get it right!

Inevitably, due to its proportions, the little door soon got named The Fat Hobbit Door, subsequently referred to as "Fat Hobbit" by the Castle Team.

Just look at its cuteness … You know you want one!

The blacksmith from Holkham Hall Estate has been working with us on this and is doing a splendid job on the Norman style C-hinges. I can’t wait to see what he does with my insanely complex Saxo-Norman extravagances (on which more in a later post, when they're built).

This is the Fat Hobbit getting ready for burning; two of the build-ups were left as bare oak, a third was painted red and a fourth clad in blue leather, variants of which are part of my designs and so had to be tested.

Poor little Fat Hobbit got plastered in to the front of the kiln and wired up with all manner of sensory doohickeys. Then they fired up the burners!

Somewhat terrifyingly, after only three-and-a-half minutes, smoke was pouring through the gaps around the door. This is when the smoke seals started to expand and do their bit. A little while later, no more smoke as they filled the gaps.

With the temperature inside the kiln up around a thousand degrees Centigrade, the full, intumescent fire seals kicked in and we sailed past the thirty-minute mark needed to complete the fire test (long enough for the building to be evacuated and the fire brigade to show up in all their hunkiness).

Here we are passing forty-five minutes with the temperature on the fire side at a thousand degrees C and at the outer surface of the door steady at fourteen degrees C. Damned impressive from the Fat Hobbit!

“Hokay! Let’s keep on going and test it to destruction.” came the jolly cries of the Castle Team.  "That'll cost an extra four-hundred quid." quoth the Fire Test Folk. "We don't care! Burn it! BURN  IT!"

And thus it transpired …

Fat Hobbit turned out to be a real hero and refused to die. Here’s the view from kiln-side after the test. You can still see a little bit of red glow from inside the door. The two thicknesses of air-dried, joinery-quality oak, properly jointed, with the front face of vertical planks and the rear, horizontal, did their job and simply charred on the kiln side to provide an extra layer of fire resistance.

Thanks to Fat Hobbit’s heroic sacrifice, after a post-mortem examination we decided on the best construction method for the full-sized door and here it is after testing. The Fire Test Folk estimate it would be good for four hours in the locations we shall be using it. This one did fail eventually but only because we ponied up another four-hundred quid and got a bit carried away, with a certain person dancing around in front of my monitor, singing “Burn, Baby, Burn – Disco Inferno!” as you do.

By-the-bye, all the blacksmith’s spiffy strapwork has simply been unbolted from the door, taken to be sandblasted and then sent back to the smithy, where the blacksmith will re-use it as part of the Great Hall Kitchen door, and you'll soon be able to go and visit it. Yay, recycling!

More from the Castle soon.