A Night Out

Monday night was an excuse to go outside. on a Spring evening.  What a delight to walk across the park, sun shining, birds singing, knees creaking, while heading for the local High Church version of Anglicanism.  Because the Church of England no longer has money to pay for a proper vicar our man now has responsibility for both our church and this one.  Monday night was the official engagement as it were of that position.  

Cynics may say that the lack of vicars has to do with the lack of cash to pay them, so many now are female, tsk!  And cynics may say if we had less people higher up we could pay for people at the front line?  Those high up are often lost in a world of their own and while contribution fail a better understanding of need arises.  Far too many churches are being lumped together under one man.  Attendance dwindles, this happens, but the answer is always to be bible based, however, it is clear the churches which refuse this are the ones losing ground.  

Our recent curate was happily inducted into his role as vicar a while ago, during Covid.  Today he runs five churches, though he does have a very good support system there.  

Our man here will have a very good support system at our church, quite what the other will provide I am not sure.  Too many elderly ladies who do fine things, but that is not church leading.  Too many aged men, not all able or willing to lead, and too few young people incoming.  

However, the evening was a success, all were happy, everything looks good.  There again, at such gatherings not only does the Bishop, the Archdeacon and lots of spare vicars appear but afterwards there is lots of good nosh.  The women were busy providing, sandwiches, cakes, and our side with an Asian vicar, provided lots of Asian foodstuffs.  I put on weight last night.  All in a good cause.

At the weekend this 1620 house caught fire.  Once at least four doors were seen at the front, homes to agricultural labourers working the fields around, now, one long house, or at least it was one long house.

I do not know what caused the blaze, they are still debating this, but the entire thatched roof has gone, the contents upstairs destroyed, and downstairs probably flooded.  At least the people got out but consider their next steps.  I hope they have a place to abide now.

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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The Other Big Town Trip.

From the window of the five past eight bus this morning I snapped as well as I could the sun shining on the local harvest.  One problem city dwellers (Known as 'Townies') fail to comprehend is the delay caused by a tractor wending its merry way to the next field along.  While farmer Jones is contemplating his profit, added to by the generous EU, CAP which is why he is merry, the vehicles behind are filled with smouldering folks who were not in a hurry when they set out.  The trail behind a vehicle dropping lumps of mud from his giant tyres can stretch for several miles. Today I smiled benignly at the people in just that position as they were headed in the opposite direction to my bus.  They however did not respond kindly.  There is little to beat sitting upstairs on a near empty bus in the early morning as I am sure you know.  Had I ventured out an hour or so later a bus full of chatting women and screaming brats may well have been my lot.  I also noted that according to my timetable a bus left here every twenty minutes, however a returning bus only departed every thirty minutes!  Three go out and only two return, a mystery indeed. Could there be a depot somewhere with dozens of buses waiting around for their drivers to return I wonder?  This reminds me of the No 8 London bus rescheduling in the late 70's.  The drivers pointed out that had they followed the timetable ALL the buses would be travelling in the same direction at one time!  Tsk!     

The bells of St Peter's well ringing loud as I passed, a peal that went on for quite some time. Possibly they do this regularly as this is one of the Anglo Catholic churches that likes to be part of the town.  The not quite musty interior is lit only by the large window at the far end.  The dim light is sufficient for individuals needs, allowing some privacy in a busy town.  The bells were only heard dimly in this ancient church, which has its own mention in the 'Domesday Book,' would you believe!  The picture may indicate the interior was slightly lighter than it may have been to my eyes.  I find this quiet spot strangely attractive myself.

With a camera in the hand it is important to always look up when in town.   The horrid tardy shop fronts and entrances of today could hide past architectural delights.  Above the dingy entrance I noticed that this once was the 'Grand Theatre,' no doubt home to many great stars, and a few bum ones also, of the past.  Today it appears to be one of those 'clubs' young folks take delight in, although I myself canny remember why.  

Adjoining this theatre is another pub, this time however an interesting looking building that stands on the ground that since the 18th century bore the name 'Lamb Hotel,' although this has been changed many times in recent years.  I suppose there must have been a market nearby and farmers would gather for lunch here.  This present building dates from 1905 and the present owners have not defaced the building thankfully.  Sadly the High Street is a mucky place, not helped by traffic that has to pass through, there is little else that can be done to move it.  This pic does show what lies unseen above our heads.  Look up when out, but look down and ahead first! 

  

On the other side of the street stands the Red Lion Hotel, still operating as such, and with a history dating back to 1495.  The mock Tudor front dates back about 20 years however and quite a lot of pubs do themselves up this way to make themselves look older.  This I suggest is to attract the customer who likes his old buildings to look like his imagination tells him it ought to look!  Ah the teaching of History cannot defeat the wishful thinking of the individual!

On either side of the entrance stands these two gentlemen.  The one on the left appears to be wearing a crown (Henry VII would be King in 1495 followed by Henry VIII) but the other is less discernible.  Maybe he represents one of the town worthies, maybe a traveller, maybe the first or later owner.  I am unclear and find nothing to aid me.

I had to laugh at this sign.  The A120 is the straight road home, called 'Stane Street' after the Romans worked on it some time back, and normal weekly traffic numbers are very high.  The fact that the warning of advance works end with the words, 'Delays Possible,' did make me laugh!

Well might you ask what such dereliction is doing here.  This is a once busy car park at one of those 'out of town' shopping centres.  There are still several major businesses working there but so many have gone that this large car park has become disused and is dying slowly.  What are the chances of the Tories upsurge in the economy of bringing this back to life soon I wonder?  All around this area lies the beginning of development which has ceased since 2008.  I am not sure whether I prefer the wide open acres filled with beasties to the modern empty office blocks that ought to be arising there.  The economy requires it but we need open spaces.  Just passing by these fields, the ancient houses and wondering what life was like for the souls found there in days of yore does take away from the shopping experience that saw all charity shops visited and two books and a handful of birthday cards bought, still no jacket......  

What?  You have had enough?  OK, I will bore you with more later.....

St Peter's

As I pushed my way through the crowds in the market today I passed a few African types proffering leaflets.  These were regarding their recently established church.  I pondered when they first arrives a while ago quite what made them settle in this town.  For a start I found when I came here some time back that this was a very 'white' English town, a surprise to me after twenty years in Notting Hill!  Why did a small group of Africans begin a church here?  Today there in fact two 'African' dominated churches, and one of them at least contained several illegal immigrants.  This was exposed at a social evening when a young lady indicated in mid conversation that she worked for the Customs people, turning around she noticed half the crowd that were behind her had disappeared!  The churches no doubt are genuine enough, but some amongst them may have a different view of their 'social' role.  Possibly that is why they began their own church rather than do the obvious an check out those already up and running.  The point I am aiming for is almost here so yawn with your mouth shut.


Churches begin for a variety of reasons.  English churches often began on pagan spots when the Romans were around, wooden churches were raised under the Saxons, the Normans altered those with stone, later many Lords decided to build their own, to stop them mixing with the lower orders I suppose.  A variety of reasons saw 'parish' churches and non conformist churches to develop.  Theological differences and Pride often split churches causing new ones to emerge, as indeed did personal ambition.  In Victorian days 'Livings' as they were called, were often controlled by the most powerful man, or organisation, in the district.  Anthony Trollope wrote about the infighting of the Mid Victorian Anglicans in his delightful book 'The Warden,' and several others that followed.  We have reached the point at last, sip coffee, sit up straight and listen.  St Peter's Church came into being because a rich woman fell out with the vicar of the parish church.  That is why the building stands there, in what was once a field on the edge of town!  That is the crux of this tale.

Miss Frances Wakeham was the daughter of the Rev Perryman Wakeham, most probably vicar of St Michael's the parish church.  Certainly the house in which she resided, 'Marshall's' was very large, with an extension added in 1850 that was bigger than most houses in the area at the time, and vicars in those days were very well off indeed.  The vicarage opposite the church, mentioned some time back, possibly arose when this lady moved into her Big House, set in the mid century in pleasant gardens of some size. This lady, as was common in that age, most likely knew her social importance.  Indeed she also was a granddaughter of a man who had once been Dean no less!  However there came a time long after her father had gone the way of all vicars when a dispute arose.  The residing vicar of St Michael's wished to 'move tombs' for reasons not stated, possibly hygienic or to improve the grounds, although this is unclear. Whatever the disagreement it appears she lost out, and possibly revealed the reason she remained a spinster all her life, her personality, her attitude.  Maybe she was indeed to be found in a 'Trollope' novel?  It was said she claimed she would 'Pay the vicar back,' and her Christian commitment was such that when she died she indeed did do this! 


The blessed lady left £4500 (and this is 1893 we talk about) to the church.  However she did not give it to the parish but ensured it went elsewhere.  Now this town actually is two separate towns joined as one in the 19th century. The Roman road that runs through the town separates the two halves and the parish to the north came under an Anglican 'peculiar.'  A what?  It appears the way Anglicans run their organisation means that a church is tied to a local cathedral, the home of a 'Bishop.'  However for historical reasons that are two complicated to understand the northern parish, under St Mary's, belongs to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and is described as a 'peculiar,' as indeed are many Archbishops. Quite what he wishes to do with it is not made clear.  However the money was provided specifically to establish a new church.  


Now spiteful Frances, (Can I call you 'Fanny?' What.....Oh!) realised that St Mary's is some distance from the Roman road and the parishioners required a new church nearer the road, especially as the town was growing apace.  The English way was to have people attend a local parish church rather than the nearest.  To prevent some slipping over the border into St Mikes parish she arranged for a new building close by.  By insisting the church was built within two years or the cash went elsewhere she ensured a rapid building process would follow.  The first service took place in 1897, in a building designed for growth.  Holding some three hundred seated, but designed for alteration to 600 when the time came, St Peter's now has a strange, indeed ugly, look.  The interior they say is excellent, but I have to take their word for that.  An effort has been made to ensure the grounds are neat, and the rain has enabled the plants at least to flourish.  Much of the land once given (half an acre 'given' by one Mrs Southcott) has been sold for housing, and that of a decent quality.  

As with all things life changes in ways not expected.  The church continued but the growth did not. The population stopped growing, War arrived and changed attitudes to all things, the cash to add the tower, let alone the expansion, never materialised.  The church was left with a stunted look on the outside, somewhat similar to many houses I noted built in the thirties back home.  Nowadays this 'Anglo Catholic' church attempts to play its part in the town.  The bells ring when folks get married, services are held, and a vicar has been appointed once again.  The crowds however do not come.  A church cannot be established unless the good Lord sets it up himself.  Man's ambition, personal desire, theological debates, and pride, as here, are not good grounds for God's Kingdom.  He himself must inspire the creation of a church, not a dispute regarding tombs.

The Dean who laid that must have been strong!

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Up Town Again

The trains were in one of their little anarchic moments today.  One train  has a problem very early in the day and everything falls apart. So as the timetable was out the door, made worse by the driver of my train claiming the brakes were not working!  Thanks for that pal!  So after the meeting with the man I made my way around the historic town.  Historic it is indeed, and I passed the 'Castle,' without entering and avoided the tour of the two large Roman arches that hold the beast in place.  The two large rooms were the last hiding place of the Roman and Romanised population when Boudica came calling.  her gentle womanly side saw her burn the town to the ground and this included those hiding here.  The remainder of the castle were rebuilt several times and the building is less a castle and more a large house, much altered!  

Outside the entrance stands the splendid War Memorial.  This historic town was also wealthy by the end of the 19th century and liked to do things in style.  A town this size sent many to the war and this is still a garrison town.  The town is the base for 2 and 3 Para battalions.  Several large expensive trucks roared past me today while several cars ferried off duty soldiers to places of refreshment.  The castle grounds contain several memorials including one of the few to those who fought in the 'Forgotten War,' the Korean War!  So few cared about that adventure, and with few televisions around information was not available then as now, so people just ignored it.  After the previous fifty years the UK rightly wished to get on with its life and avoid further entanglements. The 'end of empire' was sufficient trouble for most.  I wish I had pictured this now. 

I am not sure which battalion of the 'Essex Regiment he served with. 

The town hall has an excellent council meeting room and the late Victorian building is still the centre of the council. Next door stand the 'Old Library,' an outstanding building for such a work, and now a mere 'refectory' for the council staff.  Down the same street a lawyer has moved into a Tudor like building which, like so many here, dates back into the mists of timet.  The difficulty is that this area was used by weavers who arrived from the Flanders and Netherlands in days of yore and roads are very narrow, and indeed busy.  This makes photography difficult!  Vans and passersby do not help much either.  

  Ye olde Lawyers with ye new charges you bet.

 Town Hall and Old Library

Heading back to my wait for the train, and it became clear that the staff were working on a moment by moment basis as the announcements were somewhat unpredictable.  One train causes problems and the effect on a busy commuter line can take two days to put right!  On the way I stopped my weary body to get strength by stepping into St Peters Church for a moments contemplation.  This church is on the hill heading north and it becomes clear why this was used as a fort town.  The steep hill at this side gives a clear view for miles around, or would have in past times, and following on from the Britons work the Romans strengthened the defences and much of the wall still remains. None of the wall crossed my path today, actually walls rarely 'cross my path,' they do have a habit of staying put I find.  Originally the town was almost defenceless, hence Boudicas success, but after this Roman engineers got to work. St Peters is one of those rare churches mentioned in the Domesday book. There were at least two vicars in 1086, the town clearly wealthy even then, and it is likely that a wooden Saxon building stood here before this date, the Normans having the habit of rebuilding old churches in stone to impress on the populace their domination. The original building may go back further still but no record exists. There are foundations of a building from the 300's which appears to a church to the south of this hill and it is possible there may have been a small building here at that time also.  There as many old churches as buildings not surprisingly in this important town.

    
Inside I found a somewhat dark, and surprisingly large, almost cavernous, building.  Heavy dark wood, large windows but not receiving the sunshine during the middle of the day, and a aroma of candle wax hanging in the air. The place was empty and very quite, noticeable as a busy main road is right outside the front door, and I wandered down the aisle and deposited my self gladly in a pew.  Clearly this is an Anglo Catholic church, the wax aroma and what I took to be a confessional at the side indicate this. Many Church Of England buildings are closed and locked these days unless someone is on guard, theft being a major problem.  In busy towns there are those who remain open nevertheless to allow those who wish to a few moments of reflection, specially at lunchtimes. Maybe I am wrong but it appears to be the Anglo Catholics who do this more than others, I could of course be wrong.  When these imitation Roman Catholics emerged in the 19th century they chose a road that differed from the rest of the churches.  As towns and cities expanded the churches followed the people. Good idea I say, however the poorest were left behind in what became slum areas.  The Anglo Catholics chose to 'pastor the poor,' and built magnificent church buildings among the poorest people.  Possibly that attitude continues and is revealed in churches remaining open, quiet and ready for the individual. Another entered and I left him in the dim, quiet basilica and very happy indeed with my few moments headed for a disjointed train ride home.



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