Remembrance Continues

On Friday I sauntered out because the BBC Weather forecast was for gray clouds.  I took this picture from underneath one of the wonderful trees planted in the 1800's for one of the Courtauld's.  The public gardens were then part of his garden donated to the town amidst much celebration, fireworks plus bonfire and drinking I suspect.   The trees planted were many and various and the result was something the gardener responsible never saw which is a pity as they are marvellous.  They also keep the big black cloud that drops gallons of water on people at bay.  Interesting how the man driving the grass cutter went faster as the rain got heavier.

This morning, minus rain, I went to the main parish church where a war exhibition was on.  One interesting aspect was putting these notes, each of a name from the war memorial, on the pews.  This brings home to people the cost of war and how it affected the town.  An excellent idea.  Another good idea was the show of pictures and letters from relatives of those who attend the church being put on display.  Many survived, one in five remember died during 14-18, and the letters give an insight concerning those who were there.  The stiff upper lip is rare today as is the normal practice of the terms 'Mother' or 'Father' for parents, we are more informal today.

I thought it a wonderful display with a wide variety of items covering all sides in the war.  The rat sniffing at the tins of 'Bully beef' was a nice touch and I was glad no lice were running free at the time, if there were I suspect tomorrows service will be interesting. 

 This I found interesting, it is a field kitchen.  A Frenchman invented this during the Crimean war (that's 1854 to you) and it has been in use ever since.  This one was made in the early 50's and they were used until recently when other means are employed.  The MOD keeps a store of them in reserve still.  A simple yet effective means of heating a large amount of stew/soup or whatever is lying around.  The wood goes in the hole at the side, the soup in the top where a large removable pot contains the goods and the smoke goes up the chimney, simple and effective, all great inventions are always simple.  This belongs to one of the church goers at this church, he has a Nissen hut, a trench and a wide variety of other war material at home.  I must visit one day!  Good job his lovely wife shares his enthusiasm!

 
As expected there is a window given to commemorate the men who fell, donated by a local worthy who spent much of his money on the town and worked hard as a councillor, and he was a powerful one, to improve things.  These days rich people keep their money to themselves.

Rushing home slowly through the centre I found the British Legion stand was still there from yesterday.  This time a lass sang, and sang very well, songs from the 40's to accompany the people ignoring her, not counting the mother dancing with a toddler.  I chatted with one of our 'heroes' for a while and with another who was there yesterday.  These ex-army men, who fought no war, just army bureaucracy and senior officers, were a delight to talk to.  A great many people of all ages were interested.

One of the men had created these models, you cannot see the legs sticking out from under the tank unfortunately, but I thought them a wonderful piece of work.

A wonderful collection.  Mind you I sometimes wonder about those that collect weapons.  These men understand them, they have personal meaning to them but there are others who one sometimes regards as somewhat barmy and it may be best they don't have weapons on them, even broken ones.  Back home to discover more people asking info on their great uncle or whatever.  There is a joy in discovering a connection to a name on a memorial, a strange joy but I understand this.  There may be more in days to come.  Tomorrow it is St Paul's remembrance service, I have supplied some info, and then the town gathering at the memorial in the afternoon.   You might read about that tomorrow...

Our Oscars

The early evening was spent surrounded by dolled up lads and lassies for the Volunteer Oscars at the Museum.  This is one of those 'get together' ideas to help us meet those we rarely see, even though one or two could not make it so we didn't see them!
Oscars were awarded for shop work, handyman work, children's work and the like.  Naturally I expected the 'Miserable Git of the Year' award of course but that was not on offer this time, "Not enough competition," I heard someone whisper.  I did get the 'Social Media' Oscar simply for passing on the posts we offer to all on facebook.  I also do things on the laptop at home, sometimes for the museum...

This was a short but enjoyable time and I took lots of pictures of people feigning humility while grasping their award, all well deserved I say.   A few slurps of imitation Champagne and some round things with dead things upon it to go were on offer to please the peoples.  Then, dressed up to the nines. we headed for our next appointment or home to play about with the pictures and fall asleep.
The deep blue sky as I came home was irresistible, this is one shot that I had to try (on AUTO) as the sky was deep blue and the RC church had lights on.  

Black Notley Churchyard

I took a mad turn this morning.  No, not the usual type, a real mad turn.  Having ridden the bike on both Saturday and Sunday mornings I decided at 6:30 this Bank Holiday morning to ride the rusting beast up to Black Notley, see some countryside and explore.  It was indeed a mad turn for someone as unused to cycling as I, someone as patently unfit as I, and someone who forgot how steep the hill is!   Who put that hill on Notley Road?  What was the point of that? I am convinced it wasn't there last time I came this way.  However, wheezing like an old man I made it to the top, continued without falling off, turned up Buck Hill, struggled up there and dragged myself over the road into the churchyard.  I considered just lying down as I wondered if it was worth trying to go back home again!
Silence, only the grouse grumbling as I passed them by (Grousing grouse?) a few birds flapping in the distance and an occasional car or van hurrying past on the now distant road.  Sun, silence and occasional birdsong, sounds good to me.  

St Peter & St Paul, Black Notley was begun in the early 1100's by some Norman overlord and it is situated next to Bocking Hall.  This would be built by the new Lord of the Manor at the same time as the church building, although it is possible the Saxons had already created a wooden church on the site.  This solid edifice would impress the peasants in their rough homes.  Interestingly Castle Hedingham is a Norman Mott & Bailey castle built by the De Vere's, clearly to impress and possibly suggesting a fear of rebellion.  What made this Lord happy to build his Hall here without a castle defence?  Possibly his early house was fortified I expect however later works have lost the original building and the present one appears to date from the 15th century but has obviously been upgraded as and when.  The church would have been run by him and his man would have led the services, as long as he obeyed.  Such arrangements were found all over England, much less so in Scotland and is one reason for so many empty redundant English churches today.

As you would expect that by seven in the morning I was looking for gravestones, military ones, which I found and the grave of the family killed by Zeppelin bomb in 1916, which I failed to find.  One grave that cannot be missed however is that belonging to John Ray, the father of natural history.  Born just along the road from the church Joy proved to be an intelligent young man and eventually spent time in Cambridge University.  From his childhood he and his mother, a herbalist, much valued in the days when medicine was so limited, had walked the area and John learned much about the plant life from her at that time.  He then continued this study, classifying plants and researching them.  In time he became a 'fellow' at Cambridge lecturing in Greek, Maths & Humanity.  However he lost his job because he held on to the truths of scripture rather than follow the 'flow' of the day and spent time travelling in Europe and the British Isles during which time his collection of specimens, both botanical and zoological grew.   Much of this learning was expounded in his 1691 book (available at the museum shop for a reasonable fee) "The wisdom of God Manifested in the works of the creation."  His many such works had a great influence on all who followed from him.  Not bad from a wee lad who's father was the village Blacksmith!

There are four WW2 graves in the yard but I doubt these are Black Notley people.  It is likely one of those found there is however the nearby hospital took in many during the war and not all made it back to their homes.  The CWGC site is down and Ancestry does not appear to know this man so I can tell nothing from his stone regarding how he came to be here.  I hope his family got to know, and Glasgow is a long way from here.

The church underwent some degree of renovation in the past and those involved were keen to make their mark in 1680.  Putting a date on a building seems a good idea but for the first fifty years it looks a bit daft.  Such dates only really matter several hundred years down the line.

On the night of March 31st 1916 Braintree suffered heavily. That night Kapitanleutnant Alois Böcker brought his airship ‘Zeppelin L 14’ to Braintree, arriving around eleven in the evening. He dropped a bomb which landed on Number 19 Coronation Avenue. Inside Ann Herbert was killed while asleep in the back bedroom. Her daughter and two children survived even though they crashed down from the first floor to the ground. Next door the chimney collapsed into the house killing the sleeping Denningtons and their three year old niece Ella, while the entire street suffered concussion damage from the explosion. (Taken with permission from 'Into Battle' available at the Museum shop)
The Denningtons and their niece were buried in Black Notley but I could not identify the grave.  
The small graveyard reflects much of the village.  Most down the years would be buried here and the population was small, with few being able to afford gravestones the vast majority over the years would have a paupers grave, somewhere at the back of the church grounds.  Most churchyards would be the same but I wonder how many ended up in those unmarked graves? 

The modern manner of commemoration for those cremated is rather more caring I note.  Many churchyards now include such a remembrance, cheaper for those who have lost someone and a place to remember also.

Trying to be clever I attempted to picture the John Ray grave through the doorway but failed miserably, twice!  The window is a little like my own, it needs cleaning!  On the way out a sound heard in the distance came very close.  A young couple walking their three big gray dogs came past.  The dogs were keen to have me for breakfast but being well controlled we bade one another good morning, the dogs rather too loudly for me, and I hastened the other way.

At this time of the year there are many taking the early morning balloon flights across the county.  Two were seen today, offering Champagne Breakfasts and occasional tree top hitting.  With Harvest having been mostly completed there are plenty of emergency landing grounds available if required.

There will be a heck of a bang if he hits those wires!

This is the house John Ray lived in while writing his many books and other works.  It is just as well he lived here as it says 'John Ray Cottage' on the gate outside so he had little choice in the matter.  His studies and his writing continued in spite of ill health and having a family to bring up.  The road outside, then a mere dirt track in summer and a mud bath in winter, now offers the usual local madmen plenty of opportunity to kill themselves as they race past at all hours of the day and night.  One reason I went there today was the Bank Holiday which meant few were out on the roads bar those who had to be.  A nice little cottage still in spite of the traffic, thankfully hidden by a tree or two, but probably costing a buyer around half a million today.  

I suspect the small garden in John's day was full of flowers and herbs recommended by his mother.  These would be alongside vegetables to help feed the family.  John did have two other famous local men as friends, Benjamin Allen and Samuel Dale, both local worthies who participated in the running of the town and other organisations.  One told the story of how he went to London and while there one of his patients went to the other for medical advice, he died!  On hearing if this the first thoughtfully said "It served him right for not waiting for me."  Ah friends, who needs them?

John Ray showing himself to the world.  This type of decoration is very much an Essex thing.  It has been done elsewhere but a great many aged houses in the locale have a variety of such decoration. 

I came across this on the way home, what an annoying sign to offer a cyclist who is wondering if his legs can get him home.  He is not too concerned about breaking the speed limit, he fears he may be breaking his bones or his bike chain first.  30 MPH indeed, I canny do that downhill on a ski slope!

City Churches

While I dozed on the high speed express hindered by nothing more than signal problems, people throwing themselves in front of trains and lack of drivers/guards my mind considered St Michael, Cornhill.  This is because many moons ago I came across the excellent Great War Memorial found at the door.  

And what a door!  
St Michael stands on what was in Roman London the Basilica, the centre of Roman administration.  The name Cornhill comes from the hill itself, difficult to see in today's world, and the Corn Market that stood here in the distant past.  A church stood on this spot long before William the Conqueror arrived which was unfortunate as that Great Fire, so often mentioned, came along and burnt it to the ground in 1666 leaving only the Tower standing.  Christopher Wren is said to have rebuilt the church but this is disputed, and he had dozens of others on the go so maybe his men did the work, who knows.  The work on the tower ('in the Gothick manner') was also said to be Wrens but this was completed by Nicholas Hawksmoor. 

 
Again it's a case of looking upwards as I suppose the worshiper was meant to do but it does harm the neck muscles after a while.   All London churches have connections to the various guilds, this one was connected to the 'Drapers' and in Victorian times they were forced to spend money on the building or hand it over to the Ecclesiastical Commissioners.  There is no surprise that they chose the building and instructed Sir Gilbert Scott, indicating how much they had, to improve the church.  His work saw the improved door facing Cornhill with carving from John Birnie Philip above the entrance showing St Michael disputing with satan.  

 
The Lord himself is seen just above the door ratheroffering a sign of peace we cannot know he ever offered, but it makes sculptors happy.  As you may expect the door was firmly shut to passersby and while the church boasts that it opens on Sunday, one of the few that do, and appears to open during the week while I stand outside the door remains firmly shut.

Nothing for it but to admire the war memorial once again.  This statue can be found elsewhere, I have seen photographs occasionally of such Roman soldiers on guard at memorials, yet it speaks of the vast money available after the war from parishioners and the Drapers to commemorate their dead and that reveals something of the effect the war had on the people contributing.  That war affects us to this day!

"The names were recorded on this site of 2130 men who from 

 offices in the parishes of this united Benefice volunteered to serve 

their country in the Navy and Army.  Of these it is known that at 

least 170 gave their lives for the freedom of the world." 

The church was not damaged during the Blitz and while marks on the walls indicate possible war damage, often found on London buildings, this Masons Mark stands out on this stone.  I wonder what date this comes from, the time after the Great Fire most likely but possibly one of the renovation periods perhaps.  The narrow passage to the right of the entrance where this can be seen is one of many found in the City, maybe one day I will go back and photograph these.  

This, as you may guess, is St Mary Woolnoth, another that closed its doors to me.  This baroque looking building was erected in 1727 by Nicholas Hawksmoor, he has been busy aint he?  This was not the first church structure here as Roman and pagan finds show this spot had a religious use in times past.  The Norman's as you know built in stone within ten years of arrival to cow the natives and remind them who was the power in the land.  Until then the Saxons would have created a wooden church as that was the readily available building material and stone was expensive.  The 'Woolnoth' in the name may be a reminder of a Norman gent living here in the 12th century who was probably the local Lord of the manor.  
Between 1897 and 1900 the Underground reached this area and 'bank' station was built part of which included escalators reaching under the church.  Public disquiet stopped the railway company's planned demolition of the church and steel pillars were inserted to keep the building safe.  
However during an air raid at 8pm on the 11th of January 1941 a bomb managed to break through into the booking hall not far beneath the roadway.  Further the explosion made its way down the escalators onto the platform killing and wounding many.   Figures vary but some claim 51 died while total casualties (dead, wounded and missing) were 111.  Others claim 111 were the dead, I go with 51 as most fail to understand the word casualties.  This information was I understand withheld at the time and released only after the end of the war.

Among those connected with the church in times past were William Wilberforce who spent a great many years fighting against the slave trade worshiped here and John Newton a man who once ran a slave ship but accepting Jesus as Lord gave evidence against the trade, evidence that led finally to Britain opposing it stoutly.  Newton became incumbent here between 1780 until 1807 the year of his death.  His previous Parish had been at Olney and while preparing for the Wednesday night meetings he would often attempt to find a new song.  One night he produced 'Amazing Grace' a song that has summed him up perfectly and become a favourite worldwide.  The music as we know it was added much later by one William Walker long after Newtons death. 

Like many churches in this area the front door is hidden down narrow passages and while a wee bit wider here we find St Stephen Walbrook hiding quietly behind the Mansion House.  The 'Walbrook' is one of London's lost rivers which have long since been 'culvertised,' indeed this one since the 16th century, and even today while the stream still flows it was added to the sewage workings of the 19th century when a massive improvement was undertaken.
The church itself like most others around here goes back into the mists of time.  Burnt down by the Fire Christopher Wren spent almost £8000 rebuilding the place in splendid style including a central dome not unlike the one he placed in St Paul's.  Little damage occurred during the blitz and this was soon repaired.
However the church's fame in recent years comes from one Chad Varah who became rector in 1953 and remained here for fifty years.  Varah's fame spread after he conducted a funeral for a 13 year old suicide who had misunderstood her periods thinking she had a venereal disease.  From this time on he offered an emergency service for desperate folks known to us as the 'Samaritans.'  Here he led volunteers in a full and frank teaching regarding the problems of London life including frank sex talk, which shook some early volunteers, and the great London need of loneliness.  These have not changed much over the period.  
A man of mixed blessings he had a finger in many activities although his theology was a bit skewwiff from what I can make out however his concern for others was great.  By 2004 Varah's connection to the Samaritans ended as he felt it was not the organisation he had created.  Varah and his wife Susan continued their many 'good works' until their deaths, his at the age of 96 in 2007.

One church that was open on Saturday was the tourist attraction that is St Paul's.  I avoided this as I canny stand tourists!

Look!  A church with an open door!  'St Vedas-Alias-Foster' who else?  Somewhat typically this was a church of the Anglo Catholic tradition which being over the road from St Paul's saw the sense in remaining open when tourists flocked to the eating places next door and sought a moment of quiet.

Sadly I thought this somewhat disappointing as this type of collegiate design does not reflect churches as we should know them.  However being badly damaged during the blitz, only a shell remained, the contents were rescued from other blitzed churches which did not recover from the war damage.  Therefore it is a good example of salvage as well as a rebuilt church.  As I said this was open, the only one I found, and it appears to me that if any church in the City of London can get the volunteers to keep it open a small £1 'donation' charge could provide a decent income during the summer at least.  The use of freewill donations may bring cash but not a great deal.  Some of course resent being charged to enter a church but many of these fail to notice the 'donation box' at the back.  
St Vedas as you may know was a leader of the church at Arras in the 6th century and he was the one credited with rebuilding the church after years of Roman and tribal fighting.  The King of the Franks, called 'Clovis' was converted by him it is said.  
This church may have originated with the Flemish weavers who arrived during the 12th and 13th centuries.  Wool was King then and the English with masses of sheep wool to export brought Flemish weavers here to develop the economy.  The Lord Chancellor, and now the 'Speaker' of the House of Lords sits on the 'Woolsack' an idea that may have begun in the 14th century when Edward III caused his Lord Chancellor to sit on this to remind everyone of the importance of wool to the economy.   
Strangely the church was damaged and left a shell by the 1666 fire but was repaired satisfactorily without recourse to Christopher Wren which indicates they probably did not have the money to employ someone of his stature.   

Lovely glass windows with a Victorian appearance possibly because some glass was saved after the blitz and reused in the renovation during the 1950's.  

 
This somewhat miserable looking tower standing between modern blocks of concrete and glass is one of the most famous churches in the world.  'St Mary'le'Bow' the church where it is said that if you are born within the sound of its bells you are a 'Cockney.'
The church stood here in Saxon times, a wooden structure surrounded by wooden houses all of which suffered great damage from the Tornado that arrived in 1091.  600 homes destroyed, church rafters embedded in the ground, London Bridge demolished and yet only two were killed on that occasion.
Considered to be the second church in importance after the nearby St Paul's and at the risk of repeating myself I have to say the building burnt down during the Great Fire and Sir Christopher Wren rebuilt this one first as it was of such importance.  The 'Bow belles' the word 'Bow' comes from the arches on the old building, the bells recorded in 1926 can still be heard on the BBC occasionally and I think I am right is saying that when 'Big Ben' is out of order for any reason these bells are used by the BBC to tell the time.  Hearing these bells via the BBC when being born does not make you a Cockney!  The Germans attempted to stop the bells by dropping bombs on the church but these were reinstated by 1956 and the church continued as always.  It was of course closed when I passed.

She must have been a strong woman!

A Day Out

Last night I decided I needed to go somewhere to refresh the mind and take some pictures.  So at nine this morning I was aboard the Liverpool Street train and heading for adventure.  I have passed through London on occasions heading elsewhere but as far as I can remember I have only been back once since then.  So I wandered from the station around the city engulfed by cyclists having some sort of parade come protest while I took pictures of the appalling architecture that towers above us.  It was a good day.

Liverpool Street Station, being one of London's busiest, was once a grime covered dark cavern of a place of which I have vague memories.  Today it is light and airy with a myriad of grossly overpriced shops willing to rip you off for a variety of things you really don't need. 

I ignored the delights of donuts (doughnuts surely?) and other tempting specialties on offer from people who failed to learn English before starting their job and went looking for the Great Eastern Railway Great War Memorial, one of our boys is on there.  Fascinating to think that he once worked on the Permanent Way, the rail track itself, and when he died of TB his wife was still allowed to make use of Free travel for the rest of her life.  Railways were indeed a family at that time, I wonder if such would happen today?

Outside we find this statue which I think represents refugee children worldwide beginning with those evacuees who were forced out of cities during the war.  A touching subject that gets admiring glances from many and if you look close the odd empty coffee cup from more cynical people.  The Station inside is clean but the area outside is far from this state. 

High above the road the Great Eastern Hotel as was displays proudly the railways logo 'GER.'  This 1884 hotel has been much renovated and I am not sure if either of the two masonic lodges still exist or whether the trainload of sea water brought each day still arrives for bathing, I suggest the latter no longer occurs.  Now owned by Hyatt the outside is very much Charles Barry's work and remains an outstanding and still expensive hotel.  I didn't go in.

In all those years I spent in London I canny mind seeing one of these.  A police call box for public use. No doubt I must have seen them but they do are not recognised by my mind.  There were several still to be seen and it is possible they are only found withing the City of London and the special City of London police deal with these.

London traffic remains the same, ghastly!  Being Saturday I thought it would be quieter in this part but I was to be proved wrong.  The buses may have changed, and absurd they look, but the rest is similar.

Just down the road began the neck straining day.  High above disgusting buildings filled the sky in an attempt to launder someones stolen Roubles.  This was the first of many difficult to photograph glass fronted mistakes, each and everyone a tower that reaches up to heaven so that someone can make a name for themselves.  

  
I preferred this little chap, once a famous and busy establishment belonging to some group or other as each church was in the past in the city.  Like almost all I passed today this one was closed, this is a pity in my view as tourists need the space as much as city workers, it is sad so many are closed.

Oh and I took 272 pictures, so I may post the rest from tomorrow...what?  Oh!