Showing posts with label Tudors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tudors. Show all posts

Friday 26 May 2023

The Old Manor House,


The view the pigeons up there in the loft have includes The Old Manor House.
As far as I know, there is little information regarding this building.  The timber and plaster built hose was erected in 1550, during Tudor times, and that is a period in which this area is devoid of information.  Those who choose to study the Tudors round here find almost no information whatsoever.  
However, that year the imperialist English were involved in the 'rough wooing,' which began when Henry VIII sent his failing army to invade Scotland, to force a marriage between Mary, Queen of Scots, and his young son Edward VI.  He failed, and an agreement was reached at Boulogne, where he also had troops attempting to steal French land, though by the time of the peace Henry himself had passed on.   
John Napier was amongst those born that year, you know how he created Logarithms and so upset schoolchildren everywhere, especially me.  Who needs such things?  Thomas Cranmer's 'Book of Common Prayer,' introduced the previous year, was now in use everywhere in England.  The reformation, caused by Henry's desire to bump off his wife, had taken over the land, and while some of a Catholic persuasion led short lived revolts in the south west, the reformation persisted.  The 'Ale Houses Act,' licenced such premise's for the first time, much to landlord's joy.   It continues bringing joy to licensees still.  
Abroad, the Spanish were taking over South America, leaving Brazil for the Portuguese.   Chocolate is introduced into Europe, by the Spanish I suspect, so women everywhere rejoiced as never before.   The 'Society of Jesus,' is created, so you can expect a knock on your door any time soon.  


The family of Sir Thomas Moore, indicate how the rich were dressed in the 1550's.  Lower orders were dressed according to class, including the type of headgear allowed them.   Of course even if you were wealthy, having the head cut off, or being burned at the stake, were occupational hazards in those days.  It was fine to gain enough money to build a nice house, have a wee estate, but ensure you keep in with whoever was winning, and this meant following the Kings religion, or you were headed for the block.  Politics was a hard place in these days.


Around a hundred years later, England was in the middle of yet another war, this time a civil war, though how 'civil' the people were to one another is unclear.  This town was a Parliamentary Town, that is, they sided with Oliver Cromwell and his 'roundheads.  Indeed many men from here may well have been part of his army.  This county has always been a rebellious one.  I myself have met many a revolting peasant round this way.  
During 1648, Sir Charles Lucas led his royalist troops into Braintree seeking the weapons stored there.  These had been removed by the parliament supporters in the town.  Lucas moved to Colchester and the next day Thomas Fairfax, 3rd Lord Fairfax of Cameron, arrived in the town.  It is believed, though no real evidence has come to pass, that these men, or possibly the townsmen, damaged the royal sign above the door of the Old Manor House.  Being so badly damaged no-one is quite clear as to who the sign represents.  Then followed the Siege of Colchester, which killed many and lasted a good time.


But I have no idea who built the house in the first place.  As Henry VIII died in 1547 it is clear the builder had chosen the protestant faith, young Edward VI was very much in favour of the reformation. 
After him came a time of trouble, with Mary I ascending the throne eventually much death and trouble arrived for the protestants.  It is always possible that the builder of the 'Old Manor House' was exiled, or dead within a few years.  So far we do not have evidence for his life.


Tuesday 24 August 2021

Tuesday Twittering

It's the little things that hinder most.
I had orders to ttend the surgery for an 'Old Man's Test' at 11:35 today.  This meant I had to wash properly and ensure my clothes were not as scruffy as usual.  Having prepared I put on clean sox, there are plenty of them, most without holes, and here it was I struggled.  My feet appear to be much further away from me than they used to be.  Once upon a time I just got down and shoved sox on and moved.  Today I struggled.  My now expanded stomach does not help, even allowing for the recent exercise that has toned the fat, it still remains an obstacle for such jobs.  I may ask the nurse today if she can pop round in the mornings...
Update, no chance!
 

I slept well enough last night even though I lurched through some rubbish football. This featured an easy win for West Ham United, supported by so many around here.  The London overspill goes back many years.  West Ham itself was indeed part of Essex until the spread of houses took over so much of Essex it all became part of Greater London.  Few consider themselves in Essex in that region today.
By the end of the second world war I think the lines had been set.  Many out this way moved to just get out of the city, especially those with children, some for work, others just wanted a better life.  Today house developers cater to those with money who wish to move, the lower orders are not wanted in Tory lands, houses suitable are never developed.  Many West Ham footballers will however live in Essex, they can afford the prices for the mock Tudor buildings.  Funnily enough, there are many such buildings, mostly towards London, but when at the museum we had almost nothing on Tudor life in these parts, in spite of part of the Boleyn family being based down the road.  The English appear fascinated with Henry VIII, I fail to see why, many other bullying imperialist English kings make for better reading.


Early, I wandered round to greet the Stasi.  She was on the phone and ignoring me and also the beginning of a queue behind.  Eventually she placed her bets and began to deal with us poor mortals awaiting.  I pleaded my case, she fingered the cross and skullbone badge and gave orders. 
Obediently I entered the building, once she had unlocked the door, I than sprinkled my hands with the stuff in the container, once I found it, and took my seat. The nurse came on time, called me by name and ushered me into her cell.  
Here she probed, stuck a pin in, took blood, lots of it, placed it in one or two computerised measuring gadgets, weighed me, doubted my honest weight, gave instructions, informed me I was doing OK except for still being a fat slob.  Losing one stone, or whatever that is in metric, was not enough.  Leafleted, ordered, instructed, amongst which were no more drinking, no more fat breakfasts, no cheese, no more sausage rolls, etc, I was then thrust out into the street again.  
I promised to obey, to make every effort, to once more adjust the diet, especially as she has informed the doctor, who I may have to face, about my fat.  Hmmm... I may have to brush up on my communication skills, or flattery as it has been called if I meet her.
 
 
I forgot to inform the young lady, and all nurses look young to me these days, that I had finished a bottle of sweet red Greek wine yesterday.  She may have put that on the computer, so I forgot.  Then, having forgotten, I wandered up the road, bought six more bottles of this wine before the lorry driver shortage caused by Brexit leaves us short.  I had hoped this would get me 10% off but this did not occur.  However, I slunked off home, ensuring the nurse did not see what I was carrying, and returned to base.
Tomorrow the diet starts anew!
 

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!