Boxes and objects shrouded in tissue paper, bubble wrap and cardboard are stacked high in the entrance hall to historic House of the Binns, covering almost every available space and each carefully noted and numbered.

There are rolled up carpets, delicate chandeliers – two have been removed from the dining room next door – 300-year-old tables, almost threadbare chairs, a pair of old boots of such high importance they normally stand proudly on, as opposed to beside, the fireplace, and even old magazines left lying by the side of a much-loved armchair; all meticulously recorded, now waiting to be returned to the precise spot where it once sat.

Anyone who has ever redecorated a room, had builders in to sort out damage from a leaky roof or, just as frustrating, dealt with the impact of pests chewing much loved fabrics, will feel the pain of having to empty and then re-fill the space.

At least then comes the chance to admire the fresh colours on the walls, and the therapeutic task of chucking away old items and shuffling other much-loved ones into new positions.

But for the National Trust for Scotland teams working at the historic West Lothian house, built 410-years ago this year by Edinburgh merchant Thomas Dalyell, once home to his infamous son General Tam ‘Bluidy’ Dalyell and, most recently, the late Labour MP Sir Tam Dalyell, the task of sprucing up and carrying out much needed repairs is nothing short of monumental and, at the end, will not even look that different.

As is often the case with an old house, what started as a relatively straight forward repair to an aging flat roof that was letting in water, soon escalated into a significant challenge not helped by the impact of old rooms full of equally aged furnishings shut down for almost two years due to the pandemic.

“We knew about the roof before covid happened,” says Lesley Scott, NTS head conservator for Edinburgh and the East region who is overseeing conservation work at the property.

“We were hoping it would be done quickly and we could open again, but these things grow arms and legs.”

Indeed, what started as some work on the roof rapidly spilled over to involve completely clearing two principal rooms – the dining room and morning room which once featured at the heart of the Dalyell family home – and sprawled into other rooms where moths have chewed into some fabrics and mould has taken hold.

Each stage appears to have revealed new issues: carpets were lifted to expose moth damage to the woollen underlay, while dampness caused by months of rooms being sealed raised fears for the extravagant ceilings, created in order to impress King Charles I but which he never saw due to rearranging his plans at the last minute.

“Part of the house has been shut for two years with none of the doors open,” Lesley continues. “The ceilings date from 1633 ceilings and were created for Charles 1; we were worried that if the environment changed too much and too quickly, things might start to crack.

“We have to be so careful about the building fabric,” she adds, “it’s like a sponge soaking up all this moisture, and if you dry out too much you lose the moisture.”

That alone is a slow process, even before the 1000 or so objects removed from the two principal rooms to enable scaffolding to be erected and ceiling repairs completed, can be returned to their original spots.

Even seemingly insignificant items like old magazines and family nik-naks which give the historic rooms their ‘lived in’ feeling, have to be examined, recorded, carefully packed away and then returned to the exact spot where they have lain since the Dalyell family last used the rooms.

It means that even though the estate’s beautiful grounds with their flock of inquisitive peacocks, watchtower folly and views over the Forth, are open, the house is closed to visitors.

“Everything we do is considered,” adds Lesley. “We’d love to get the house open again, but for the sake of waiting a few more months we will have made sure we have protected the building to best of our ability and knowledge.”

House of the Binns was built in 1612 by Edinburgh merchant Thomas Dalyell, who made his fortune at the court of King James VI, importing butter from Orkney to Leith to be sold as axle grease.

His marriage to the daughter of Edward, Lord Kinloss, helped to elevate him into the world of the landed gentry when he became deputy to his father-in-law’s role of Master of the Rolls in London.

Having made a fortune, he bought the lands on the outskirts of Linlithgow, rebuilt the original house and created new elements, including the High Hall and King’s Room which features early examples of cornices and mouldings in Scotland.

However, his son, General Sir Tam Dalyell, would surpass him in terms of fame and put House of the Binns on the map as one of Scotland’s most intriguing properties.

A royalist military commander for both Charles I and Charles II, he escaped imprisonment in the Tower of London and fled to Russia where he fought for the Tsar and earned the nickname, Muscovite De’il.

Back in Scotland, his violent crackdown on Covenanters gave him a fearful reputation for cruelty – perhaps not aided by his introduction from Russia of torture items such as thumbscrews, examples of which are held at House of the Binns.

Dubbed ‘Bluidy Tam’, he became Commander-in-Chief in Scotland and established the Royal Regiment of Scots Dragoons, later the Royal Scots Greys.

His ghost is said to prowl House of the Binns wearing his long leather boots, while a marble table in the entrance hall is said have been where he played cards with the devil.

Legend goes that, having lost at cards, the devil threw the table at him, it missed and landed in a pond outside. Two hundred years later, the pond dried to reveal the table.

It is now among the items wrapped and stored in the ‘Laigh’ Hall, including family portraits, furniture spanning four centuries, porcelain and everything from chandeliers to the family silver.

Boxes give clues to what’s inside: ‘sword’ is written on the side of one which contains Bluidy Tam’s weapon. While his Russian boots are awaiting attention from a specialist leather conservator after signs of red rot were found in the leather.

Work is getting there, adds Lesley, pointing out that the aim is to be sustainable as possible. It’s why the old woollen underlay, for example, is being wrapped around saplings in the garden to protect them and used as mulch, and moth and pest traps brought from other NTS properties to save having to buy new ones.

Eventually, the wrappers will come off 400 years of family life, the builders’ dust swept away, and the house reopened.

As anyone who has decorated knows – fitting everything back in can be a challenge. The NTS team, however, had a trick up their sleeves.

“We videoed the rooms before we emptied them,” adds Lesley, “so we know where everything goes.

“In other places, you might have some artistic licence, but this is a family home and has to be how the family set it up.

“They put the boots above the fireplace, they put Bluidy Tam’s sword on the wall, and that’s where they will return.”

National Trust for Scotland work at House of the Binns features on the charity’s podcast, visit www.nts.org.uk