The Deeps in Co Wexford, a Regency villa, needed help. Peter and Phil Pearson had slender means but enthusiasm, expertise and a good collection of architectural salvage, when they bought it. Robert O'Byrne reports

ON A BALMY summer evening, the long low façade of The Deeps suggests it should have been built not in Ireland but in some remote region of the British colonies. Those shuttered French windows look designed to be flung open for cool drinks on the terrace, served by turbaned servants prior to guests being ushered into a dinner of curry and chat about the colonel's wife.

But instead, The Deeps was constructed for a branch of one of the Co Wexford's best-known local families, the Redmonds; a descendant, John Redmond, rose to national prominence at the start of the last century as leader of the Irish Parliamentary Party.

By then, the Redmonds had long since left The Deeps which passed through a variety of hands - and uses - before being bought five years ago by Peter and Phil Pearson. Like so many other couples interested in taking on a major restoration project, they looked at plenty of houses before settling on this one.

"Lots of other houses," confirms Peter, who enjoys an eminent reputation as a conservationist, author and painter. "We very nearly bought another place in Louth," he continues, "but then someone told us about The Deeps."

Set amid mature woodland that falls away to the banks of the River Slaney, the house lies only a few kilometres outside Wexford town but feels wonderfully secluded. By the time the Pearsons arrived, it desperately needed a complete overhaul; over the past few years The Deeps has been re-roofed, rewired and replumbed.

Large tracts of the surrounding gardens have been cleared, a couple of tatty lean-tos removed and a thriving colony of hens and geese established. In addition to these fowl, the Pearsons keep cattle, pigs and goats on their 45 acres of land, they have an orchard of apple and pear trees, grow a variety of soft fruits plus a wealth of vegetables.

Their dedication to The Deeps is impressive especially since, to paraphrase a certain political party's one-time electoral slogan, while a lot has been done a lot still remains to do.

The wonderful walled garden, for example, with unusual curves at each of its corners, has only been semi-recovered from nature allowed to run verdant. Just beyond lies a fine yew walk that could definitely benefit from some attention, the pedimented stable block has scarcely been touched and some of the main house's external cornicing will have to be replaced sooner rather than later.

Although the house might be called The Deeps, the Pearsons' pockets are better described as shallow. Moreover, explains Peter, "unfortunately when we came here initially we weren't in a position to do anything at all. It was just after 9/11 and we still hadn't sold our house in Dublin. So we just had to move in, live with the problems and gradually work around them". This was no easy task. To take one instance, the kitchen - darker than ought to be the case due to later extensions immediately outside its windows - was afflicted with such chronic damp that the entire floor had to be taken up and a proper dampcourse laid down.

The Pearsons have now received fnancial assistance received from both the Heritage Council and the local authority in Wexford towards restoration of The Deeps.

"Trying to deal with, and conquer, the damp is one of the biggest problems with old Irish houses," says Peter. The problem was exacerbated in The Deeps because the lower level of the house is effectively built below ground. The couple have managed to regain control by such simple expedients as installing storage heaters and making sure all windows are regularly opened to allow plenty of air to circulate.

When it came to restoration, one advantage the Pearsons enjoyed over almost anyone else embarking on a similar project was that they could draw on Peter's remarkable collection of architectural salvage, historic items that he has accumulated over decades for no reason other than personal interest. Walking around The Deeps, he is able to point out various instances of recycling; much of the glass in the newly-reinstated sash windows came from Dublin Castle when a home was made there for the Chester Beatty Library.

Likewise inside what was probably once the house's morningroom, the main window's frame and shutters look original but are, in fact, made from old pieces saved from destruction by Peter.

Downstairs next to the kitchen (now warm and snug and dry and with no hint of its former miserable state) he and Phil have created a charming panelled diningroom almost entirely from salvaged material; its pretty Gothic window looking into the hall passage came from a house in Dundrum, Co Dublin, while the Gothic cupboard door was rescued from the paper mills in Saggart.

The stylistic features of this room find a curious echo on the façade of the house. While from a distance The Deeps proposes the unadulterated appearance of a classical Regency villa, closer inspection reveals one of its quirks: on either side of the main colonnaded façade are windows with Gothic tracery.

Furthermore, while there is only a single bay on the side closest to the principal door, there are two at the other end of the front. Idiosyncrasies of this kind indicate that The Deeps was extended and altered on several occasions. The earliest evidence for the Redmond family's association with the place is 1777 and at least part of the present structure probably dates from around that time.

The house was then greatly extended in the early 19th century, one of the most attractive extant elements from that period being the pair of shallow bow windows to the rear. Further work took place around 1880 with the addition of servants' quarters.

Another notable aspect of the house is its deceptive size. From the exterior, The Deeps looks like a relatively modest summer pavilion. While this might have been its initial purpose, the place is now big enough to provide permanent accommodation for a family much bigger than that of the Pearsons.

Downstairs, a line of bells to summon servants indicate that in the 19th century there was a drawingroom, diningroom, smoking room, morningroom and at least six bedrooms but only one bathroom.

Along the centre of the house runs a wide pilastered corridor with sprung vaulting that finishes in three oval top lights. Some of the rooms that open off it retain more original features than others; the two main reception areas - one of them created when two smaller spaces were knocked together - contain really splendid 18th century Adamesque chimneypieces that look as though they were brought from a larger house.

Sadly most of the old floors are gone, replaced 40-odd years ago by harsh parquet; the boards that did survive were buried beneath linoleum. Similarly a lot of the house's shutters and window entablatures were also pulled out by previous owners. Thanks to the labours of a first-class joiner from nearby Enniscorthy these are gradually being replaced.

The worst of onerous restoration now behind them, the Pearsons can start to turn their attention to more pleasant tasks, such as choosing colours for walls. When, that is, they're able to take a break from other duties such as collecting fuel for a wood-burning stove that can heat the entire place, hacking back invasive bamboo, protecting soft fruit from the birds, constructing a new woodshed, minding their livestock, tending the vegetable garden . . . evening drinks on the terrace will have to wait.

Peter Pearson has an exhibition of his paintings of houses and architecture in the Pigyard Gallery, Wexford from June 2nd