Charity Shopping Fail

The temptation to grasp the Free Bus Pass for Old people and head out took hold of me on Thursday and saw me carried up to Halstead to search the Six charity shops that lie on the main street.  About 12,000 quite wealthy people and six charity shops?  Sadly the High Street is high featuring a hill that rises steeply up into the sky above where the town first appeared.  Prehistoric man had an small input here, the river at the bottom of the hill helps, who however would wish to walk up and down carrying water I ask?  On the hilltop, the Romans had a villa or two and Saxons settled in well until the Normans took over.  Maybe knowing this causes the people to withhold their smiles while running charity shops?  Maybe it is the rumoured inbreeding on the Suffolk border, I cannot say.

During the year 1818 Samuel Courtauld built himself a Mill at Bocking, he also added this one at top at Halstead.  Worked mostly by women, the men did the engineering bit, the women worked the looms, the mill lasted for years.  Courtauld's went into decline after the war some two hundred years later so the town got quite a bit out of the Mill.  Courtauld's were good employers.  Many women, young ladies, with little hope of a life in London were brought, often from orphanages, into Essex and found themselves a better life.  At least this kept them off the streets!  Over the years Doctors, hospitals, schools and housing were among the benefits this employer gave his workers, these houses here were built for them by Courtauld and other aid when required.
If only more businesses did likewise today?

Abraham Rayne must have been someone important to have such a monument erected above his head.  I failed to find him on Ancestry though I only searched quickly.  I wonder how he made his money, what his work was, where he lived and what people thought of him at the time?  I may never know.
My knees were feeling the strain as I sat on a bus full of 'Downs' kids heading home after a day out.  
I was disappointed with the shopping, there was little on offer, and with nothing else to be seen all I got from the day was aches and vies of crops beginning to edge nearer to ripeness.  That was good.

This morning I stupidly wended my slow way into Camulodunum in spite of the need for sleep and pretty nurses to massage my knees.  I found neither there and a search of the charity shops, some of which have closed down or been turned into profit making enterprises, disappointed also.  However a delightful lady at 'Waterstones' was very helpful as I used up my last book voucher there.  Three more books I do not need, have not got time to read and could live without happened to fall into my hand as I wandered about so I had no choice but to bring them home.  It would be terrible if any more such vouchers turned up would it not?  I would have to go back again!  

One good aspect about the town is the narrow side streets, one of which is full of small shops, a wide variety of items on sale, and some wonder why this town can do this while we back home cannot!  The council backs the small trader here, ours does not, that gives us eight charity shops!  Lower the rates and we will find more small shops arising I say.
Empty handed back on the bus now rather than later to avoid the students from the college.  
It was full of students from the college.
Nothing more interesting than the conversation of 16 year olds!
Knackered and bereft I will spend tomorrow asleep!

A Mill, A Bull, A Pond and A Church

Townsford Mill stands on a spot used by mills of many types going back centuries.  It is thought grain was first milled here in the midst of agricultural land but over the years weaving became the norm.  Samuel Courtauld, one of a family of Unitarians, became sole owner in 1825, one of many mills he was to possess, and soon developed a powerful steam worked silk mill one of the biggest in the country.  However by 1850 foreign competition hit deep into his output this led to a development of Black Crepe often used in funerals, which with a stroke of luck brought him much profit when prince Albert died.  With Victoria descending into deep mourning the nation followed on and Courtauld's Black Crepe was in much demand.  The Mill soon employed over 1400 women using a thousand looms.  Weaving of one sort or another continued until 1982 and soon after the closure the antiques people moved in and what a success this has become.

 
Where once a thousand looms deafened the girls working them now a variety of units peddle items some of which my family still put to good use.  Imaging how many items now considered 'antique' are still lying abode the abode?  There is a restaurant in the bottom and two floors of junk valuable items much of what I found very interesting and a great deal of it not too expensive either.  If I had money and wall space I could have gone for several pictures and the number of books on show tempted me, I kept telling myself to go back to charity shops for them.  After wandering I retrieved my bag from reception, they somehow did not trust me, and asked the young lady about the gun she had by her side.  A rifle of great age lay there which she said she kept for troublesome customers. she waved it in the direction of her friend who ran for it.  However  it turns out to be a toy!  An expensive toy for a young lad 150 years or more ago I suspect.  I decided not to buy as getting on a bus these days with a rifle gets funny looks from others I find.

These two houses are part of a row which Samuel Courtauld built for his workers.  He was not penny pinching when he asked George Sherrin to build them in 1883 was he?  I suspect the more loyal workers with their families were placed in here.  Courtauld employed 70 men and boys as well as the women, many of those rescued from London's workhouses and offered jobs in Essex.  Long hard hours for seven shillings and sixpence may not seem much now but it was better than a life on the street which was the future for many of the girls otherwise at that time.  The weavers cottages from yesterday were probably built by him for his workers also.

     
 Amazing how dingy clearish brown water runs up to the mill but on the other side the river is overgrown all the way along.  Reed clutter the river bed and had I the energy I would have walked along for a few miles to see a bit of countryside.  Instead I came upon this bedraggled old building once a hive of industry and now awaiting its fate.

Originally part of the railway yard this large double sized building looks derelict and rather sad at the moment.  This is a reflection on how important railways were to industry in times past as the goods yard was big for such a town and business must have been brisk.  Today little remains although one or two station building have been reused, however I suspect few under seventy remember the line in operation.

Some folks like it however.  Three windows had such a bird taking ownership of the place.  Plenty large windows to go round for everybody.

As I avoided spilling my lunch in the Bull Inn I gazed at the thick aged beams that hung above me.  These may have been part of the original building when created in the 1400's.  Imagine, in spite of adaptions and renovations over the years, imagine how many have supped here over the past seven centuries?  Impossible to miss at the bottom of the hill the bridge over the river is outside the door and I wonder if any careless driver or runaway horse and cart have clattered into the Bull?  I can see many drivers of both horse and car doing so.  

  
Waiting at the door for the taxi to come through...

 
The public gardens are well maintained by the excellent council workforce and here the memorial to the lost of WW2 is found.  A small four sided plinth is engraved with the names of the lost and the gardeners have created this magnificent Lancaster Bomber as tribute to the airmen who lost their lives.  Apparently this is the second Lancaster, the year before that a Glider was made.  I see this as a magnificent gesture and who knows what they have in mind for the next one. 
Well done to the council gardeners!

The gardeners also maintain the excellent pond which has found favour with several ducks.  So happy are they that mum has produced at least four chicks who stumble around the pond searching for lunch.  Kids are always hungry, at least when it suits them.

Not far from the pond stand the disused Holy Trinity Church.  The architect one Sir George Gilbert Scott a man famous for many buildings such as the Midland Hotel, The Foreign & Commonwealth Office and the Albert memorial.  This was one of his earlier works in 1843/44 and now stands bare and rather sad.  The outside is impressive but as almost everything relevant has been removed the building is in the care of The Churches Conservation Trust.

It was as I turned and looked down the nave that I suddenly became rather depressed by the disconsolate appearance a disused church has.  It matters not that this was a 'High Church' in times past (It appears a golden cross was offered  for processions and some objected, possibly the protestant types. This cross soon disappeared and was later found bent over in the River Colne.  It was returned to the vicar in 1911 and soon back in use.)  

One of the few remaining items is the Great War Memorial which appears to be still made use off.

Some people have not been forgotten.

 

Scott had a sense of humour it seems to me.  Just what encouragement these faces high above every pillar in the church gave I am unsure.  There was a variety of faces and I winder if he had someone in mind for each of them?  Were they posed I wonder?

 
OK, you can wake up now.  No more from Halstead that I will show.

Healthy Place

The idea came to me last night to travel north to the far flung (six miles) town of Halstead.  This appeared to me to be a good idea until leaving the bus I realised just how steep a hill the town was built on.  What sort of clown builds a town on a hill?   
The name of the place 'Halstead' comes from the Saxons who lived here before my time.  It could translate as 'Healthy Place' or 'Place of refuge' depending on how well you understand Saxon.  There was enough settlement here to be recorded in the 'Domesday Book' under the Normans by that time of course. 
The River Colne probably had something to do with the settlements origin and at the top of the hill lies the crossroads of the east/west and north/south highways.  That also may have encouraged settlement as time past.  The lucky thing is that it was the women who daily had to drag the water up the hill while the men got on with the hard labour either in the fields or in the pub.  
The town stands on the route from London to Bury St Edmunds so for many years pilgrims trudged past heading north.  This would have enabled Inns of various quality to make a living out of the passersby.   Agriculture must have been an important employer until weaving arrived then everything changed.  
Whether the Flemish weavers (the term Flemish must cover those from what is now northern France, Belgium and Holland) who moved into Essex established themselves at the top of this steep hill which I mention again is not known to me however in 1818 Samuel Courtauld built his mill here and began a business that lasted until recently.

At the top of the hill today stands St Andrews church which as is nearly always the case a church that goes back to the Normans and possibly to the Saxons also.  There was indeed a church here when King John (reigned 1199 - 1216) gave the town a market, that certainly led to the towns prosperity  growing.
You will note I found a war memorial at the top.  A once proud remembrance of the fallen the fallen the stone is sadly beginning to fade and decoration is fading fast which is a pity as we can see.

  

St Andrews Church was renovated by the Victorians in a manner that impressed me and I am not known for being impressed by artworks.  However it is a fetching sight when seen inside and luckily the locals mange to keep the doors open.

Apart from the stained glass windows, very good in the usual Victorian almost pre-Raphealite form the walls of the chancel have also been painted strikingly!  The colour on these pictures is too bright as I had to fiddle the camera to get a decent impression of the painting.  

Imagine a slightly more colourful version of the wall behind.  The walls and the ceiling have been done extremely well in my view, even though I would not have it in a proper dour kirk!   Who was the artist responsible I have not discovered as there was no booklet on the church history on sale as far as I could tell.  An impressive building, well maintained and still in normal use.  

A much better system for removing rain water than the plastic pipes which dominate the world today.  These gargoyles are all around the church, many have them, and might be a spot of Victorian humour.  

Back down the hill past the many houses going back to as early as the fifteen hundreds.  Most have been altered over the years occasionally the outside also and certainly inside they can be changed considerably however many are still pokey wee places for those using them.  Small rooms, low ceilings and it is easy to imagine the many who have passed through these houses, mostly shops today and it is possible many have always been businesses. 
I searched the important shops, the charity ones and bought a dingy black jacket for £5 which seemed a good price to me and went some way towards aiding the St Helena Hospice.  At least in the shops I was away from the traffic.  The highway is still the main road north and as such is extremely busy.  No chance of a bypass for this town however.  

By now I, like you, was becoming weary and was tempted by the 'White Hart.'  Lots of these places around here as the 'White Hart' was the sign of one of the prominent nobles and I have forgotten which one, he became king eventually I believe but don't all English nobles think they are king?
Anyway the place was not yet open so I trudged on down and came upon this!

This was found in the fancy shopping centre.  No I don't know what it is either but someone will know and soon inform us.  

"Time for bed," said Zebedee...