Showing posts with label Lexden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lexden. Show all posts

Tuesday 31 May 2022

Stane Street


Tramping out of Camolodunum’s Balkerne Gate head west, Roman soldiers, mostly born in places better referred to as France and Flanders, probably knew little and cared a lot less about the age of the road along which they would trample.

The Balkerne Gate is still there by the way, half knocked down, and somewhat secured by recent council action. When the railway arrived around 1850, way down the hill, the publican situated at the gate took it upon himself to knock portions of it down thus enabling those arriving by train to see his Hostelry. It was an unwise step from a historical viewpoint, and I doubt it was very successful from his viewpoint as the walk uphill is indeed steep, but few would notice his pub from the station.

The wall had been built not long after Boudica and her Iceni friends arrived and burnt the place to the ground. Only the large cellar of what is now ‘Colchester Castle,’ remained, and that filled with burnt corpses. The people, now Romanised, were not regarded as loyal to the lady, therefore she treated them to the same regard she had already passed over to Verulaneum and Londinium. She was quite keen to share slaughter between all Romanised types.

Thus the wall that had not been erected in her day arose. An unfortunate mistake the Romans did not make again. No matter how trustworthy the Brits around them, the Romans built walls and defensive fortifications where they required them.

The soldiers would notice the road. It is possible they themselves had been involved in hardening the road themselves. Roman soldiers quickly learnt how to build fortifications, roads, and buildings to accompany them wherever they went. Partly this kept them busy, partly it kept them fit, always it enabled fast travel by the standards of the day for this vast military machine.

To this day the road remains almost exactly as it was then, heading west, it stretches out for 15 miles, up hill and down dale, nothing the soldiers would have found troublesome however, and after some fifteen miles (a days march) they would stop at a crossroads for the night, eat sleep and continue in the morning.

Sleep would be welcomed after the march as unless a few horse drawn carts could be found the soldier had to carry his own equipment, around 80 pounds in weight, similar to UK soldiers today.

He wore a tunic under his armour, a helmet on his head and his red cloak on his back. On his feet he wore military boots while carrying his shield and Pilum (his spear) and his sword dangled from his the belt around his waist. On the march much of this was thrown over his shoulder to make life easier, though how much easier the army personnel may dispute. On normal marches they would build a fort each night, a hard but important job in dangerous places. I suspect this was not required in what is now Essex as surely such accommodation as required was permanently built. However, I know not if this is the case.

Leaving the walled city was always dangerous for Romans, while most Brits were happy in these parts the experience of Boudica had left the Romans and the Romanised locals wary. At no time did Rome believe this land was secure enough to withdraw troops, they remained for several hundred years because of the troublesome natives.

Leaving the city the march takes them through Lexden, now a nice suburb for those who can afford it and then the outer reaches of defensive ditches created in the first century BC. Long ditches were dug in several places, with more added over the next 200 years. The Trinovanti had long suffered problems from the Catuvellaunii who ought to have remained in Hertfordshire where they belonged. This they did not and eventually took over Catolodunon (as called before the Romans changed the spelling) including the area of Lexden where a number of tombs can be seen, or mounds may be a better description, including one supposed to contain the remains of Cunobelinus, known as Cymbeline to some, the King of the Catuvellaunii.


Thursday 26 April 2018

A Walk in Lexden


As always my ideas were good.  I would venture out to Lexden, wander through the park to the 'earthworks' and find if I could a way to the tumulus where an Iron age King, possibly Cunobelinus is buried.  Naturally wandering about in the Bluebell filled woods was a delight, especially as few were about, yet it was not possible to find my way to either object I sought.  The earthworks was behind a fence somewhere in the woods and it was not clear how to get onto the path behind the tumulus, so I let the king sleep and wonder if there was in fact a second way into the woods which I did not find.  I did however pass three bags standing alone at one point.  Either someone was hiding nearby or they were transported by aliens as they passed through the woods though why anyone would carry three such bags through the woods was unclear.


Lexden was a mere village for many years and was referred to as 'Lassendene' in the Domesday Book but was of little importance until the rich Victorians from Colchester a mile to the east moved here to build big houses and enjoy clean air.  Nothing but agricultural work in the rolling hills of the area. Today's large fields are ploughed, seeded by tractor and machinery while in days of yore hard work for the man ploughing with oxen on such hills and then while harvesting later in the year.


Clearly some had been making money fro many years before that time, and being on the main road there was naturally a 'Toll booth' to extract money from passers by and to help maintain the roadway, when they got around to that.  The resplendent house had the name 'Weavers' on the door but this does not look like a weavers type of home.  He may of course have made his money and employed workers elsewhere, there were lots if such in this area.



The churchyard and the woods teemed with Bluebells.  Masses of them crowded together under the towering trees.  Few creatures more however, a few birds flitted among the trees rushing about to feed themselves as they produced eggs and a single squirrel avoided me in a hurry and raced up a nearby tree.


This hill, along with a dead tree and what looks like blocks once used to stop tanks during world war two were ideal playmates for the males of the area.  A nearby tree had an improvised ladder which would have been brilliant had I been a few years younger!  A great place for kids.  

 
Many such trees were all around some around four hundred years old, coppiced by the looks of it for much of that time.  When the rich moved out this area must have been roped off for the 'Lexden Park House' built at the far end, no poor peasant would be gathering firewood from here then.

  

With a wood, a pond and ducks to feed plus acres to run around in this must be a marvellous place during the summer months for kids.  If all this belonged to one family it must have taken an army of cheap workers to maintain the grounds.  



In case there were no ducks or geese around someone has placed four large geese in this corner alongside a tree trunk shaped like a human.  The ducks and one solitary wary Canada Goose sitting close by did not show any appreciation of the artwork to my knowledge.


During the English Civil War (why call it 'civil' when so many died?) Lord-General Thomas Fairfax camped his men here while he laid siege to Colchester.  To the east lie 'Hilly Fields' which appear to contain much woodland now, but which gave a good view of Colchester defences a mile further east. A cannon from the town caused many casualties among the Parliamentarian forces until similar weapons were brought up to demolish the battlements the cannon was based on.  I wonder whether Fairfax used the 'Sun Inn,' now a private house but since the 1500s a busy tavern or whether he imposed himself on 'Weavers' over the way?  Boudica did similar before destroying Colchester a few years before this.  She gathered her troops around this area and then trashed the town.





 
St Leonard's Church, St Leonard was patron of prisoners apparently, was built and remodelled during the 19th century.  Some form of church building had begun sometime in the 12th century but this small agricultural village had little wealth and even by the 1600s the building  was in poor condition.  The present church, of the Liberal Catholic tradition, whatever that is, however is in fine condition and expanding to enable facilities for more to attend their business.  A bit too 'High Church' for me but a pleasant place to sit and talk to Jesus after wandering through the woodland.  It is always good to find such a church open, too many thieves force the buildings to be kept locked much of the time unless someone is attending them.





I found it interesting that in spite of the war memorial on the main road there were no individual war graves to be found.  It is possible I missed them, churches tend to let the grasses grow around this time of year to benefit the wildlife which struggle with the loss of farmland and the concreting of front gardens for car parking.  There were several gravestones indicating some of the people who resided here had held important posts during the 'Raj' and wished their grave to reflect their position.  How strange that class is reflected even in death.  However the Braintree weavers Courtaulds would have been pleased as the funerals would have been attended by many leading ladies wearing, and outdoing one another, with black dresses made from the Black Crepe which their local mills manufactured.  




 'Spring Lane' now a quiet side street as the new bypass has taken almost all traffic away offered some delightful cottages, once farm labourers homes now owned by those who can afford half a million I suggest.  The influence of Flemish weavers can be seen on many houses in Essex, their 'Dutch Roof' is a common sight here.  The Victorian semi detached would have been admirable for the farm hand as his several children, two up and two down and an outside loo to yourselves. I particularly liked the old street lamp being used at the side of the house.  The locals have put the old horse trough to good use.  Turning what could become an eyesore into a delightful piece of road furniture.

Waiting on the bus outside what once was the workhouse.  This was built on Jeremy Bentham principles it seems to me.  Four winds reached out from the centre, from here the men in charge could looked down each wing without having to change his position, 'Strangeways Prison' in Manchester was built on similar proposals.  The whole is surrounded by buildings forming a circle with the entrance, for the nice people at the front, I suspect inmates went in the back!  The building is seen on the 1877 map and now of course has been transformed into flats.  I wonder what stories could be told...?

  
   

Sunday 18 August 2013

Warmed up Leftovers



Ah!The open road, the sunshine, the fields, the people left at the bus stops because the driver was talking on her mobile to her friends!  How lovely to travel, on an empty bus!  How lovely to have a bus pass also! 


The clock has adorned the tower of St Peter's since 1866 and if you look closely you will see the words 'Redeem the time.' Also above these are the two keys, usually associated with Peter as he was given the keys of Heaven and Hell.  The Roman Catholic Pope of course has usurped this and claimed descent from Peter, no matter that Peter was never Pope!  This of course is an Anglo Catholic church so it is no surprise to see this thereon.  In 1692, long before you were born, this area suffered an earthquake. This upset the steeplejacks who were working on the tower when this event occurred.  Their first reaction was not recorded but they did inform the world that an opening large enough to put your hand in appeared in the tower.  Little real damage was done, although a chimney pot was lost in one house, and no doubt a more willing attendance at church on the following Sunday!  Such events do occur occasionally in the UK, usually most people sleep through them as these are minor events, but on occasion people notice.  



Can you read it now?


Essex churches are a good way to reflect history.  The buildings themselves are amended during different periods, sometimes on government authority, the memorials reflect those who attended and often considered themselves important in the Parish, and the cemetery itself reveals much about the locals of times past.  In prominent place here at St Leonard's in Lexden stands an impressive Great War memorial.  Today we find the phrase used on these memorials, 'Our Glorious Dead,' somewhat embarrassing, however for those who lost relatives, and middle class areas such as this would lose many officers during the war, a great desire to see their loss as worthy appeared.  With the vast numbers who died it was imperative to see their deaths as required and not wasted, people argue about that still.  There are 38 Great War names on the memorial and somewhat surprisingly 32 from the Second World War. Usually the Great War numbers far outweigh the second.  What does that tell us I wonder?
The church began here in the 12th century when, and I kid you not, 'Eudes the sewer,' promised to two thirds of the tithes to St John's Abbey in Colchester.  In those days the church was keen on those who offered cash!  By the 1400's when they were offering the Gospel the church authorities were less keen however.  The Lexden church was one of the richest 'livings,' for many years. This reflects just how wealthy the land around this area could be.  Crops and cattle predominated in early days but sheep appeared around the 16th century. A surprise this as Suffolk, just up the road, became rich on the wool trade in the early medieval days.  During the days of Reformation the usual infighting occurred between various sides of the debate and by the time all this has settled down the building itself was becoming somewhat careworn.  In 1822 a new building was erected and a new chancel added in 1892.  The buildings around this are comprise not just many from medieval days but a large number indicating the wealthy Victorians found this town to their liking.  The road from here into Colchester proper is lined with what can only be called mansions and these were added to in the early years of the 20th century.  A great deal of money was around this town!   Some of these can be glimpsed on Google Maps.


Glimpsed as the bus crawled home behind a queue of traffic, probably that tractor from yesterday still heading for his field, we see the harvest gathered, the hay bales rolled out, and all this from one machine completed in one day. Thomas Hardy would not understand farms today just as I never understood nor read much of his boring books. From the Open University days I recall his story concerning a threshing machine, based on a report of the time regarding a threshing machine.  The engineer who came with this machine came from the north, probably Yorkshire, and sounded a rough, sour bloke.  Going from farm to farm he aided their work and made few friends.  There were umpteen hands to deal with the threshing then, one combine today!


A place I must take my wee camera to lies five miles down the road, depending on which road sign you read.  This large village has many medieval and on houses, a great deal of money also as antique shops used to dominate here. The TV series about a flash antique dealer in the 1990's was filmed around these parts, what was that single word name?  I admit I never watch that sort of thing but would look just to recognise the background.  Maybe if the sun shines this week I will get the bus pass out again.  The clock tower?  No, I don't know either!

OK, class dismiss.
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