Showing posts with label Bocking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bocking. Show all posts

Monday 4 September 2023

Car Show: at Braintree & Bocking Gardens 2023


I played truant from the Kirk on Sunday.  The service was going to be a long one and I conversed with myself as to missing it, I agreed with myself, and then went over to the gardens for the car show.
The 'Pickup Truck' seen here is one of those things many worldwide long for.  In the UK and much of Europe it means little, but the wide open spaces in such lands as the USA, New Zealand and Australia, saw a need among farmers and others for such vehicles.  
The Ford Model 'T' was adapted as far back as 1917 into a 'pickup' and developed somewhat during the 1920s.  However, as far as I can make out it was in 1940 when General Motors introduced the 'AK Series' that what we know as a 'Pickup truck' first appeared.  Ford soon followed and a generation of young Americans saw the vehicle as their main aim.  In the UK we still longed to afford a bike!
This one on show looked somewhat tarnished, but I bet the price to buy would be great.


The Ford Anglia.  This car sits in my mind as representing the period when the UK found the modern world.  No longer would cars all be black, nor would they be curved all round, instead the modern US styled fashion was here.  A bright ne world existed and was to be cherished.  Mind you, I was only 10 years old!  

The 'Zodiac,' another example of the modern desire to copy the flash US cars of the late 1950s.  Old people may remember these cars as fronting the revolutionary TV police programme called 'Z Cars.' Here, the modern police ran around in white Zodiacs catching criminals in a new manner and putting the world to rights.  The series lasted for many years.


Personally I would prefer one of these.  Ideal for us young bucks while running around during the summertime, especially down by the seaside.  Of course I may be confusing US adverts and movies with a day under the Haar at Cramond beach, but you know what I mean.


I did not hang around long enough to discover who got prizes for the machines, but when I saw this 'Alvis' I gave it top prize.  Of course I had not seen half the cars there at the time but this car looked what a car ought to be.  Running boards over the wheel, huge headlights, bright radiator, and a wonderful wee mannie on the front.


The wee mannie...


While as a 10 year old I looked into the future of vehicle travel, now I look at this curved beauty and realise my mistake.  US imitations are well enough but this 'Morris' had a quality that the flat air resistant cars of today lack.  It may weigh a ton, be slow, and in todays world unsafe, but it looks like  bit of class in comparison to cars today.


It is always difficult to beat a Jaguar, and this is a beauty!   I think this is the 'D' Type, but I found nothing to confirm this as I pushed and shoved the fantasists of all ages dreaming of being John Surtees or Stirling Moss.  


A roll bar added to the 1965 great, but nothing else.  I would be scared to drive fast in this in case it rolled and scratched the paint.  The car is too good to drive fast!


This may be more my 'cup of tea.'  Slow, in danger of tumbling over at all times, and in danger of attack by 'Mr Bean!'  


As always there are the bikes, with many a biker gathered together talking about bikes and boring everyone in the family around them.  Fabulous set of bikes of past ages.  I bet many of these men have a 'Honda' at home...


Situated in front of the war memorial is a vehicle from the 1950s.  The 'Ferret Mk 2,'   Built by 'Daimler' in 1948 and brought into service between 1952 -1971 the 5000 'Ferrets' were a scout car that saw service with the British Army and many other friendly nations.  This one lives in the locale.


A different type of 'Daimler.'


A different type!


Entertainment of suitable vintage was available, and these two were very good indeed.


This is only a sample of the days 165 pictures. 
 I will put the rest on the Photo Page.

Friday 11 March 2022

The Origin of the name BRAINTREE.

The origin of the names Braintree and Bocking is obscure and as such the matter of much debate. These were two separate towns until 1934 when they merged into one unitary authority.
A Celtic settlement stood on what is now the London Road; later Roman dwellings adjoined this spreading upwards towards what became the town centre. The Saxons followed and some debate concerns whether their settlement represents merely a farm or a small township. The land was given to the church on the death of the Saxon Thane Atheric with the Bishop of London receiving lands in Braintree (to the east of Bank Street) and Bocking itself was gifted to the control of Canterbury. At this time the Bishops Palace was erected on Chapel Hill around the area on which stands the Royal Mail Sorting Office today. The name therefore is interpreted as most likely originating from Celtic or Saxon beginnings.
However many other suggestions concerning the name are offered. The Celtic word ‘Brehon,’ meant judgement and the word, ‘Trev,’ meant hamlet. Some believe this became ‘Brehontrev,’ a Celtic place of judgement and this later developed into ‘Branchetreu.’ The term ‘Branchetreu,’ is used in the ‘Domesday Book,’ to refer to the hamlet standing where the Celtic and Roman settlement stood. The Bishops Palace on ‘Chapel Hill,’ came under the name ‘Raines.’ Braintreefor a while in the 12th and early 13th century being referred to as ‘Magna Raines,’ ‘Great Rayne,’ although this soon appeared to die out.
 

 
A further suggestion is the Celtic reference to the raised ground area between the Rivers Brain and Pant, this being called ‘Bank,’ or ‘Bunk,’ with ‘Tre’ being a term for large village.
The River Brain is also suggested as a foundation for the name. ‘Braint’ was a name for ‘river, and a River Braint exists in Wales. Add the Celtic ‘Tre,’ and we have the township by the river, ‘Braintree.’
A further theory indicates ‘Branoc,’ as being the personal name of a leading Celt from which his village derives the name ‘Branoctre,’ Branocs village.
Bocking. There are few suggestions regarding the naming of this town. The Saxon word for ‘people,’ was ‘Ing.’ It is suggested a Thane named ‘Bocca’ had his people in this area. So we have the ‘Bock - ing.’ Early spellings of the towns name include, ‘Boccinge,’ and ‘Bockyng.’
 

 

Wednesday 17 January 2018

Sunshine!



The rising sun promised another day of sunshine and bitter cold winds.  This mattered to me as I rose earlier than usual to devour my 'Ancient Pave' bread and slimy cheese breakfast.  How 'ancient' the recipe is for this bread I know not but I suspect the ancients never made it like this.  However as I increased the heating level and downed the last of the coffee slumped at my desk I perused the papers for interesting information, the type that keeps me in touch with what really matters in this world.
I found none.


The noise outside forced my nosey nature to rise and open the curtains and watch the workmen laying out the 'Stop and Go' signs for the road works up beside the building works.  A small digger was also unloaded proving that no matter how small and no matter how efficient such machinery might be they can still deafen anyone better than a runaway jumbo jet!  
While watching the men clad in bright yellow suits I noticed the Daffodils are beginning to break through already.  This is the 17th day of January are these meant to appear so soon?  As the cold wind howls through the gaps in the windows I ask 'Is it global warming responsible?'  
It is always a glad sight to note bright flowers but this does appear early, and so far I have failed to notice any snowdrops, a flower which is supposed to appear at this time.

 
When I first arrived here all these years ago I thought to myself that this view was reminiscent of all those old postcard vies of 'Old England' that once filled postcards.  I soon learned that these expensive houses have heavy traffic all day, and much of the night, hammering past their door and paying stupid money for a five or six hundred year old house, some with remnants of the one time weaving industry that flourished here since the 1400's within, paying such money does not always lead to peace and quiet.  At least you mix with the 'right sort of moneyed people.' 


I wandered into the sun, not quite like a cowboy did at the end of these old movies and headed up the hill.  The thought crosses my mind, when those old cowboys wandered of into the sunset where did they go?  Could there be a small town somewhere filled with ageing cowboys waiting for the evening so they can continue their journey?  Did they meet a friend or were they run down by a stampeded of passing Buffalo (that's 'Bison Bison' to you)?  The thought that 'The West' was populated by thousands of men heading into the sun does not inspire.  They would certainly have problems when they reached California...

 
I wandered into the sun until I decided hunger was important.  Having exercised, done the washing, even dusted the house and now wandered abroad I felt enough was enough and it as time to return to my normal vegetative state.  This as you can see I have succeeded in doing...



Saturday 9 July 2016

Early Start


This is the world at shortly after five in the morning.  OK I tweaked the picture a wee bit by pressing one of the many buttons on this camera but it is a decent image in the end.  How lovely to be out there before the dog walkers.  How nice to see dozens of rabbits running as I approach, how hard is it cycling up a slope before breakfast?  

   
The council have done an excellent job of improving this area, money well spent and much used by the locals.  The locals have fought of an attempt to turn part of this area into allotments for desperate gardeners and if memory serves well they also stopped a developer enriching himself near here.  Well done to them, the council would not spend this money then sell it soon afterwards.  The designated housing blocks near here are far away from the town itself, other peoples worry now. 


I found these mill stones embedded by the council next to a hump in the ground.  There must have been some sort of mill here but this is the first I knew about it.  Oh the fun and excitement here never ends!


This treehenge must have stood here for thousands of years, well at least since last year when the council workers knocked it up out of left over fallen trees!  The things you find round the corner!
I'm now off to the museum, once again no-one has turned up.  Volunteers need shooting!



Wednesday 18 February 2015

A Walk in the Past.



Having slept well I disobeyed orders and changed my mind about trekking to Chelmsford and the Record Office as I wished to go back to bed catch up with things.  This I singularly failed to do!  Instead I fiddled, fuddled and avoided things that could be avoided and caught up with emails regarding fallen soldiers. That did take a while mind.  
The bright sun fooling people into thinking it was warm tempted me out to capture pictures of the blue sky and something nice.  All I found was a chimney. It so happened that yesterday I was busy browsing a book on a local village housing.  The old houses date back to the 1300's in some cases though more came later and all have been constantly revamped.  One thing that struck me was the use of chimneys. These appeared in the late 1400's so what did they do before I wondered. However work meant I was unable to read further and satisfy my curiosity.  This building, like many down this street, are worth looking at, try it here Bradford Street.  This one started in the 15th century and was added to in the 16th and 17th, constantly improved but showing some style, even if somewhat mixed.  I have always been attracted to the scene at the side, reminiscent of an old world look.  Most of these houses have connections to the wool trade later evolving into weaving, dying and so on.  The Flemish weavers and their 'Bays and Stays' were so honest that once ordered people never checked the goods as they knew it would be as required with no cheating.  The cloth trade continued until recently when Courtauld's closed down in the 90's.

Once home I attempted work and failed.  

That was not a new experience.

  


Tuesday 14 May 2013

Tudor House



The 'Tudor House,' built about 1620 they say, was home to a Bocking Clothier.  Weaving was the strength of Bocking economy.  For many years this highway saw pilgrims pass through the hostelries prepared for them on their journey to Bury St Edmunds a trade that passed away after Henry VIII decided to run the English church his way.  Flanders weavers moving into Essex developed their cloth trade, a trade that lasted well into the late 20th century.  Clearly the builder of this house knew his business well!  Renovated in 1974 it is once again a family home.  However it also stands at a busy crossroad and suffers constant and heavy traffic outside the door.  Made of hand cut oak timber and wattle and daub walls, a few locally made bricks used in creation of a chimney and tiles also made nearby, the building has stood the teats of time. The small ground floor windows would have used expensive glass while shutters would have been on upstairs windows.        

A close up of the bressemer, the wooden beam supporting the jettied upper floor.  


The end view has changed somewhat from a 1920 picture.  Not only does the building lean forward much more it has also lost the brick chimney that rose up on the outside passing the window above.  The door has been inserted since then also.  I suspect the open hearth, where all cooking would have been done in medieval times, was the reason for the chimney stack here.  Gas and electric cookers would enable a removal, and the dangerous lean might have demanded a removal of the chimney itself.   

This period saw Henry VIII take the throne, the reformation, Henry dump the Catholic church so he could dump his women, burnings at stake, Elizabeth take over, and bales of cloth from here enable the town to do very well thank you.  It was a truism that the Flanders weavers always told the truth.  Buyers took to not inspecting the 'bays' when delivered because the weavers always gave what was promised, and of good quality!  

Sunday 29 July 2012

Town Hall



I was tempted to write, 'I saw this and thought of you,' but several young ladies are looking in so I will avoid that.  This creature you see before you, no not me, the one in the photo, hangs from the town hall wall and was intended to spew rainwater upon passersby in times past.  Whether it works now I am not too sure.  It was brought to my attention during a quick tour of the town hall as was.  I say as was as the building long ago grew too small for use of the council. The dolphin shape, for that's what it is, goes back a thousand years to the other half of the town, as I explained earlier as those who did not fall asleep will recall.  Built in 1926, a 'gift' from one of the kindly Courtauld's, a family we have met before, it contains several interesting  wood lined rooms.  Originally it appears to have been rather austere but later decor added paintings of some interest.  Difficult to photograph them as we sped through, the guide not at his best,  however I did get a couple of quick shots.  This being the window over the grand staircase.


The town crest at the top contains the line 'Hold to the truth.' Fabulous line to have amongst town Councillor's I suggest.  As if the suits that gathered could be trusted to pursue the 'truth.'  I am sure many did a good job, and some probably did seek the 'truth' at all times but the cynic within me is not sure about that phrase.  Anno Domini 1927 reflects the year of completion.  Originally the cost was around £10,000 but at the finish, as the Courtauld man insisted on only the best material, the cost rose to £50,000.  A wage of £3 or 4 a week would be good then!   The Courtauld's family, being Unitarians, believed in 'good works.  They built hospitals, schools, and the like for the towns in which they operated.  However by increasing the wage by a shilling a week they may well have done a lot more, but this way they get themselves a more permanent memorial. 'They said "Let us  build a tower that reaches up to Heaven and make a name for ourselves," or something.'  The generous man was rewarded with a gift of a Gold casket afterwards!  Jings!  

Sadly I cannot show you the chairs, mostly backed with pigskin, the murals reflecting the towns history, going back around a thousand years and sending a boat load to America to found a similarly named town in Massachusetts or somewhere, the big breasted girls chosen for the large map on the chairman's ceiling, or the valuable grandfather clock that possibly doesn't work.  One thing is clear the pretentious importance of those involved in the building.  The powers of the day considered themselves important, they do today but not in the same 'class' manner.  The importance of the town, busily industrial as it was, required they thought such a building, and the creator desired his memory to be revered also, though he would not say so.  Sadly while he is remembered he does not find the world really cares.  Once we have gone few really care do they.  Had the family considered increasing the wages slightly, and losing out themselves to some extent, they would have created an eternal memorial, and that would be better I think.     


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Wednesday 13 June 2012

Braintree & Bocking War Memorial Website





Well I have been busy.  At last I have managed to get a site put up for the dead soldiers I have been pursuing all this time.  It is not going to win any awards, but that matter not, it will however offer a few bits of basic info to the searching masses and possibly lead to better info regarding the Great War centenary in 2014.  Naturally all did not go well.  I wrote the info on 'Word,' and transferred it to the free 'Google site.'  I was then struck with an unexpected problem, the format went haywire!  Several days of struggle eventually saw me find an answer.  Changing the font to one that matched was quite obvious, so I did not think of it, and after trying the 'Word' settings, Normal, web, print, I put it all onto 'Open Office,' and then used their print setting.  This gave some sort of satisfaction and I have left it at that.  Of course having chosen a theme that contains red I found that many of the words turned red for no good reason.  I also had to go over all those red bits to amend the bold bits which had become, er 'unbold.'  Much still to do, check the links, ensure I have not breached copyright (too often) insert contact address, and so on.  But the brute is up and running.



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Sunday 27 May 2012

Early Morning



At seven this morning I found myself down by the old mill at Bocking. Today this once busy mill, look at the size of it, has been converted into delightful housing with a marvellous outlook, bar the busy road in front!  There is a bridge over the water at this point and it bares the old Bocking motif which includes  a dolphin.  These beasts are also found wrapped around the light thereupon.  Being so far inland these appear somewhat out of place, dolphins being scarce in this river.  However we must go back into the mists of time here and discus ancient church power.



The Archbishop of Canterbury is based in Canterbury, which is just as well after being called that.  Now from 1381 until 1396 William Courtney was that Archbishop.  The Courtneys were also the 'Earls of Devon' and adopted the dolphin, the symbol of Byzantium, as you know, to keep a connection with that city as one of them had been Emperor there no less!  Which one?  No idea, Google it.  The 'Priory of the Holy Saviour' at Canterbury was given authority over the church at Bocking by Aetheric Worthfulman and his wife Leofwin as far back as 1006.  Reasons are not stated.  In Church of England circles this is known as a 'peculiar,' no jokes please.  This means the church at Bocking is administered by the Archbishop of Canterbury rather than the local Bishop.  All very uninteresting to me but that is how it is and has been for over a thousand years.  The Fleur-de-lis was added later, the Courtauld's who we met before were responsible for this, and a town noted for weaving and spinning must have a 'Woolsack' also on the motif.




From this angle I am afraid the dolphin, which appears more like a fish usually, now looks more like a snake!  Still few notice as they hurtle past in their tin boxes.  The beasts crop up here and there around this part of town.



The Essex motif also on the bridge is shown here, three Seaxes on a red background.  This was the symbol of the old East Saxons who once reigned here.  The 'Seax' was a short sword much used by Saxons, and possibly the name derived from 'Saxon,' or maybe it was the other way around.  I never asked...



ps.  I have put the word verification back on for a bit, too much Mr anon again.

Wednesday 15 February 2012

Woolpack Inn



This fine old building is the Woolpack Inn, Bocking.  Or at least it was in times past.  Today it is divided into three 'cottages,' the far one selling for just under £300,000 if you are interested.  The two outer buildings have dates of 1590 carved into them, the old Woolpack is dated around 1660,  There are of course many 'Woolpack Inns' around these parts.  Wool was England's greatest export for many years and until recently the Lord Chancellor sat on the 'Woolsack' in the House of Lords, this to represent England's wealth!  Today the speaker sits on a pouf!  Very apt!  Not sure what the carvings are supposed to represent but there are many in this long road.  An attractive road apart from the constant traffic that thunders down here throughout the day and night. The houses are very old and attract the 'best' type of resident, I do not live here. A man named Savill bought the pub in 1779 and his family were still running the place in 1841, it appears to have closed shortly after this as old photographs show the buildings as housing.  There were many more public houses in the past, partly because of the poor water, partly as eating places, and partly because the English are drunks I tell you!  1590 to 1660 concerns Raleigh, Shakespeare, Marlowe and Elizabeth as Queen.  James VI & I became King of two nations and he called it 'Great Britain' for the first time. We have the gunpowder plot, English settlers at Jamestown, plague, fire and war.  We can speculate as to how the residents of this area dealt with those occurrences but I wonder if the needs of the moment meant more to them than national events?  News spread very fast, although slower when  there was no 'Twitter' service, and people in small villages and towns would have been aware of much outside their own area.  Most surely would not have wandered that far from home unless war called, wouldn't they?  I wonder?  The house has recently been sold, if next door cost £300,000 then this would be more, I didn't make an offer.


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Tuesday 7 June 2011

Garage Doors

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The other morning I cycled, uphill all to often, down to the far off village. Among the interesting old buildings, now modernised and overpriced, I came across an old weatherboard barn like structure, now somewhat in need of renovation, and to the side of this now deserted structure I found a garage! Doors failing to fit properly, if indeed they ever did, windows slightly cleaner than mine I must admit, and paint still revealing an attraction greater than any soap opera to my mind. However if you look closer you will find one of the phenomena of our times. Yes indeed, in spite of the bedraggled appearance, the 'For Sale' sign, and a door not used since 1989 someone has inserted a free newspaper into the letterbox!
What is it about 'free papers?' You may well recall the episode of 'One Foot in the Grave' where the happy couple return from holiday in Spain to find their house had burnt down. All that remained was the front door and a little bit of wall on either side. It is night, glumly he pushes open the door to stare at the charred mess that lies before him. Stiffening up he turns and yells, "Would you believe it? They have put the free paper through the door, and it's todays! They have pushed this through the letterbox although there is no house standing!" It is funny because it is so true! Now I must say that postmen usually do the same thing. If a house has been burnt it does not stop the mail going into it. This however is done for a reason. Usually the house has been secured by the authorities, the mail belongs to the recipient who could be anywhere, or even dead, and the law states such mail must be delivered until the recipient informs the sorting office of th new address. (And today will probably be charged a fortune for this!) 






This is yours for a mere £145,000. All you have to do is renovate it, permission already granted, and turn the 'Old Forge,' one of the oldest of the towns businesses, into a modern dwelling that you can sell for four times what you pay for it. I like it as it is, but I suspect fussy people would want a proper roof put on it before moving in.


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