Thomas Hutchinson Hopkins

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Yesterday, my brothers and I – along with our families – went ancestor hunting in Spitalfields Market in the east end of London.

A lovely family get-together but with an ulterior motive…

To meet our Cole and Parnall ancestors.

It’s always a strange – but very familiar – place for me to visit. I used to work nearby on Bishopsgate – when I was still in the corporate world. I often visited Spitalfields market for my lunch.

But its main pull for me is that Bishopsgate is a place where 7 consecutive generations of my family have worked at one time or another since the 1830s.

From my youngest daughter – all the way back in time to my great-great-great grandfather, William Parnall. At least one member of every single generation – without a break – has worked on Bishopsgate.

Just round the corner from Bishopsgate is Brushfield Street – on the very edge of Spitalfields Market.

This is where my family’s past hurtles its way forward to meet the present.

Or rather where we can race back through time and space to meet our Cole ancestors.

All thanks to a chance discovery I made 30 years ago…. A plaque with my great-great grandfather’s name – R A Cole – sunk into an 18th century building in Spitalfields.

Robert Andrew Cole and his wife Sarah Cole. Churchwarden of Christchurch Spitalfields, and also Victorian grocers and teadealers of Spitalfields market.

Following our beloved Dad’s death 3 years ago, we three, his children, swore we’d get as many of our family as possible together. And celebrate our unity and strength – after some incredibly tough years – together by the Cole plaque.

Not all our family are here. But we still managed to get 3 generations into our photo. All descendants (or married to descendants) of Robert Andrew and Sarah Cole.

Nearly 150 years ago, in exactly the same place where we stood, our ancestors (and their surviving children) watched the unveiling of their plaque.

Yesterday the youngest descendants walked, for the first time, in the steps of their ancestors.

A spine tingling moment.

150 years after the Robert Andrew and Sarah Cole lived here, three of their great-great-great grandchildren (one also called Sarah Cole), posed with the youngest family member – a great-great-great-great grandson.

Try explaining to a 4 year old that this was where his great-great-great-great grandparents once lived and worked!…

If you want to read the whole story about our Cole ancestors and the Victorian grocer of Spitalfields Market then follow the link below – to my story I originally wrote on my blog 7 years ago.

Click the picture below – an 1860s photo of my great-great-grandfather – Robert Andrew Cole – to read more about the Cole family of Spitalfields Market.

There were lots of Victorian Cole and Parnall ghosts tapping our shoulders yesterday. I think our late Dad was watching over us too.

The 5th December, is the Eve of the Feast of St Nicholas.  The 5th and 6th December are times of much celebration for the excited children (and parents!) from many countries across Europe.  Saint Nicholas is due to make his arrival and give presents to the children of Europe. Parts of France, Italy, Germany, Belgium, the Netherlands, and Poland all celebrate, in different ways, this saint – known as the protector of children.

However, in England, as a consequence of Henry VIII’s break with Rome and the English Protestant Reformation of the sixteenth century, it is no-longer the custom to celebrate Saint Nicholas on 6th December.  But before Henry VIII’s break with Rome in the 1530s, the feast of Saint Nicholas was celebrated in many towns and villages of England as part of the Catholic festivities of Yuletide and Christmas.

The legend of Saint Nicholas
The stories and legends of St Nicholas made their way into the exquisite and breath-taking illuminated manuscripts of medieval England.  One such legend is the tale of three children who had wandered away from their homes and got lost.  A wicked butcher lured the children, by now cold and hungry, into his shop where he attacked and murdered them, then pickled them in a large tub.  Fortunately Saint Nicholas saved them and brought them back to life – thus forever taking his place in legends as the protector of children.

Another story was that he saved sailors from drowning after their boat capsized. Thus becoming the patron of mariners.

Below is a selection of images of Saint Nicholas, the saviour of pickled children and drowning mariners.

‘Consecration of Nicholas as a bishop of Myra’ from The Queen Mary Psalter (England, between 1310 and 1320), shelfmark Royal 2 B VII f.317, ©British Library Board.

‘Nicholas stilling a storm and saving a boat’ from The Queen Mary Psalter (England, between 1310 and 1320), shelfmark Royal 2 B VII f.318, ©British Library Board.

‘Nicholas as a bishop addressing three children in a tub’ from The Queen Mary Psalter (England, between 1310 and 1320), shelfmark Royal 2 B VII f.317v, ©British Library Board.

‘Bishop Saint Nicholas of Bari resurrecting three murdered children from a pickling vat’ from The Stowe Breviary (England, between 1322 and 1325), shelfmark Stowe 12 f.225, ©British Library Board.

Bishop Nicholas of Bari (or Myra)
By the 1400s, the illuminated manuscripts changed from showing the stories of the pickled children and drowned mariners. Instead, the exquisite medieval manuscripts shifted their focus to show St Nicholas in his bishopric finery.

‘Nicholas of Bari (or Myra) enthroned and dressed as a bishop, holding a crozier and three golden balls, his hand raised in benediction’ (Italy, 2nd half of the 15th century), shelfmark Additional 61734, ©British Library Board.

‘Nicholas of Bari’ (Italy, 1st decade of the 16th century), shelfmark Additional 39636 f.49, ©British Library Board.

Saint Nicholas and Boy Bishops
By medieval times, the Feast of Saint Nicholas on the 6th December was a firm part of English cultural life.  The feast was coupled with the medieval practice of electing young boys as bishops.  A boy from the local community was elected as the parish’s (or establishment’s) ‘Bishop’ on the Feast of St Nicholas and he replaced the authority of the real Bishop until Holy Innocents day (28th December).  (See my blog-post Boy Bishops & the Feast of St Nicholas for more details about this medieval custom).

In 1542, Henry VIII abolished the custom of having boys-bishops on Saint Nicholas’s feast day. It was probably around this period, with Henry VIII’s full-on attack on the Catholic cult of saints, that Saint Nicholas’s feast day itself was brought to an end.

The late Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries
During the reign of Elizabeth I, Christmas was still celebrated with great feasts, games, and the celebrations of the 12 Days of Christmas from 25th December until 6th January. But the celebrations were without Saint Nicholas.

Christmas itself was legally stopped during the Interregnum of the mid-seventeenth century.  In 1647, Christmas was officially banned with the Ordinance for Abolishing of Festivals. Deemed as a throwback to Catholic days and too full of Popery, frivolity, merry-making and gluttony, the Puritans didn’t want any part of Christmas.

However, it was during the Interregnum that we once again catch a glimpse of Saint Nicholas. Although by this time, calling him Saint Nicholas was far too much for Puritan sensibilities. Two satirical pamphlets about Christmas were published in the 1650s.  And, for the first time in literature, Father Christmas (aka Old Christmas) was named as such.

‘The Vindication of Christmas’ by John Taylor,(London, 1652/3). The central figure is Old Christmas

‘The examination and tryall of Old Father Christmas At the assizes held at the town of Difference, in the county of discontent. Written according to legal proceeding’ by Josiah King, (London, 1658 – this image is from the 1686 reprint)

The 1658 woodcutting of Father Christmas clearly shows that by the mid-seventeenth century, he had already taken on the appearance that we know and love today. Who knows what colour his robe would have been if they had colour printing then! Would it be red? Or green? Or brown? Or purple…

The 1650s’ Father Christmas looks very familiar!

Fortunately for us, when the monarchy was restored in 1660, Christmas was too.

References to Old Christmas are tantalising glimpsed in a small number of plays and pamphlets throughout the eighteenth century. But it wasn’t until the Victorian era that there was resurgence of the popularity of Father Christmas.

Charles Dickens and the Ghost of Christmas Present
The Victorian revival and obsession with Father Christmas was partly due to Charles Dickens’ 1843 story A Christmas Carol. His pen-portrait of the Ghost of Christmas Present along with the accompanying illustration by John Leech showed that Father Christmas was alive and very much kicking! Dickens described Scrooges’ encounter with the Ghost thus:

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,” said the Spirit. “Look upon me.”

Scrooge reverently did so. It was clothed in one simple green robe, or mantle, bordered with white fur. This garment hung so loosely on the figure, that its capacious breast was bare, as if disdaining to be warded or concealed by any artifice. Its feet, observable beneath the ample folds of the garment, were also bare; and on its head it wore no other covering than a holly wreath, set here and there with shining icicles. Its dark brown curls were long and free; free as its genial face, its sparkling eye, its open hand, its cheery voice, its unconstrained demeanour, and its joyful air. Girded round its middle was an antique scabbard; but no sword was in it, and the ancient sheath was eaten up with rust.

The Ghost of Christmas Present with Ebenezer Scrooge, A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens (1843). Illustrated by John Leech

Early Twentieth Century Father Christmas
Dickens described the Ghost as having a green robe.  We’re not quite there with our modern day Father Christmas! By the late nineteenth century and early twentieth century, Father Christmas had a variety of different coloured robes. This was before that well-known gigantic soft-drinks company unilaterally made him a little rotund beaming fella with red robes trimmed with white fur!…

Below are a selection of early twentieth postcards showing Saint Nicholas/Father Christmas/Santa Claus in a wide variety of robes. Notice that even when he was dressed in red, the early 20th century Father Christmas was a tall and lean chap. Not the little fat fella of today!

Early 20th Century – Father Christmas in a brown robe

Early 20th Century – Father Christmas in a browny/purple robe

Blue robed Father Christmas

There was even a white-robed Father Christmas!

Early 20th Century – Father Christmas in a red robe. Nearly like today’s Father Christmas – but not quite as cuddly!

Early 20th Century – Father Christmas in a red robe. A lot taller and thinner then today’s Father Christmas.

Father Christmas had nearly fully transformed. From being a pre-Reformation Catholic saint and the saviour of pickled children, he was now a tall angular man with a fur trimmed robe, who brought gifts and presents to good children throughout the world.

Nearly transformed… But not quite…

Modern day Father Christmas
The Father Christmas that we all know and love today is the consequence of a massive advertising campaign by that well known soft drinks company. In the 1930s, the artist Haddon Sundblom, created the very familiar image of Santa for Coca-Cola.  Below is “Somebody Knew I Was Coming” and the basis for the company’s advertising material during the 1930s/1940s at Christmas.

Father Christmas from December 1940 by Haddon Sundblom

Sundblom based his Santa on the 1822 poem by Clement Clark Moore

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro’ the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar plums danced in their heads

Saint Nicholas’ metamorphism into Father Christmas (aka Santa Claus) was complete! Although, strictly-speaking Santa’s red-robe wasn’t because it was Coca-Cola’s corporate colours. Or was it?

His red-robes had long been established before Sundblom’s creativity, as seen in the early twentieth century postcards. But just maybe, by using their corporate colours, Coca-Cola stopped all the other brown/blue/purple/white robed Father Christmases!

Looking at Sundblom’s image and the ones above showing the saintly bishop, it occurred to me that six hundred years after the beautiful illuminated manuscripts of the middle ages, Father Christmas’ right hand is still raised in a form of benediction.

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• Revealing The Past Secrets of Your Home: step-by-step, discover how to research the story of your home through time;
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© Essex Voices Past™ 2012-2018

The Remembrance Sunday parade at the Cenotaph in London is a moving occasion that has been taken very much to many people’s hearts and souls. The first commemoration took place today at 11am on 11 November 1920. That first year, it was held on a Thursday, as that was the day of the week the anniversary of Armistice fell on. But over time, it was moved to the nearest Sunday.

From my book on the First World War, “Postcards from the Front”, here is the history about the Cenotaph and the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior.

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   In 1918, on the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month, the fighting finally stopped; the First World War was at its end. The Allies and Germany signed the Armistice in a French railway carriage within the forest of Compiègne in Picardy. However, for many British men and women still on active duty, their war was far from over.

   The first of the various peace treaties which marked the end of the First World War, the Treaty of Versailles, was not signed between the Allies and Germany until the end of Paris Peace Conference in June 1919. Further treaties followed with the Allies’ other former enemies: the Treaty of Saint-Germain-en-Laye was signed on 10 September 1919 (Austria), the Treaty of Neuilly-Sur-Seine on 27 November 1919 (Bulgaria), the Treaty of Trianon on 4 June 1920 (Hungary), and the Treaty of Sèvres on 10 August 1920 (Turkey). Until these peace treaties between the Allies and their former enemies were agreed and signed, British troops remained overseas and were not demobbed nor discharged.
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   During the course of 1919, soldiers were demobilised and sent back to Britain. After the signing of the Treaty of Versailles in June 1919, large street parties and community celebrations were held throughout the towns and villages of Britain to celebrate. The British Prime Minster persuaded the architect Edwin Lutyen to build a temporary Cenotaph (or ‘empty tomb’) in Whitehall for the nation’s July Peace Celebrations. Originally constructed of plaster and wood, the Cenotaph was unveiled on 19 July 1919 and was meant to remain only a few months. However, it proved so popular with the politicians and mourning British public that the Cenotaph was made permanent and rebuilt using Portland Stone. The permanent Cenotaph was unveiled at 11 a.m. on the 11 November 1920; two years after the Armistice was signed in a French railway carriage within the forest of Compiègne in Picardy. On the same day, the unknown warrior was brought back from the Western Front and transported with great solemnity by gun carriage through the hushed crowd-lined streets of London, past the King and his Generals at the Cenotaph, to be laid to rest within the hallowed walls of the ancient Westminster Abbey.
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“ ‍‍‍‍‍‍ ‍‍‍‍‍The Great Silence London. Cenotaph unveiling and unknown warrior’s internment: The two minutes’ silence most impressively observed throughout the Metropolis on Thursday morning. On the first stroke of eleven o’clock all traffic and business ceased, and pedestrians stood bareheaded, and paid their silent tribute to the dead. The unveiling the Cenotaph and the interment of the unknown British warrior in Westminster Abbey were attended with impressiveness never before witnessed. Thousands lined the route of the procession. A Field Marshal’s salute of nineteen guns was the signal that the cortege, surrounded by all the panoply of war, had started from Victoria Station, headed firing party and the massed bands of the Guards. The King and the Prince of Wales, with the officers State, awaited the arrival of the body at the Cenotaph, which His Majesty unveiled, and the procession afterwards completed the journey to the Abbey. At the Abbey the body of the Unknown was laid rest in the presence of the King, the Queen, members the Royal Family, the Prime Minister and members the Government, delegations from the Houses of Parliament, representatives the Forces, and relatives of those who fell in the war. All telephonic and telegraphic communication in the country was suspended during the great silence. Services were held in many towns. At all the naval ports and military stations, in conformity with the King’s message. Colours were lowered half-mast, all work ceased, and two minutes’ silence was observed the Government servants and troops. The Union Jack was flown from half-mast at a good many business premises. “

From Western Gazette, Friday 12 November 1920

The unveiling of the permanent Cenotaph and the funeral procession of the
Unknown Warrior, 11 November 1920.

The Tomb of the Unknown Warrior, Westminster Abbey,
November 1920.

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LEST WE FORGET‍‍‍‍‍‍

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‍‍‍‍‍‍If you wish to learn more about the Cenotaph and the burial of the Unknown Warrior, please join in the comments on my Facebook page, where we are currently discussing Remembrance Sunday and the history behind it.  Kate Cole’s Facebook Page

My book “Postcards from the Front: 1914-1919” is available from Amazon and various bookshops across the country.  Click on the link below to be taken to Amazon

My talks on the Great War and local history are listed here: History Talks by Kate
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© Essex Voices Past™ 2017-2018

Four years ago this week, I started this blog.  So it’s my Blogiversary! And time for me to indulge a little by reflecting back on the last few years of this blog.

Way back when, the purpose of my blog was to write about my research into the Essex town of Great Dunmow during the turbulent reigns of Henry VIII and his three children.  I had spent the previous two years pouring over documents written five hundred years ago looking at religion and society in this rural parish within Essex in order to achieve my MSt Local History from Cambridge University.

A page from Great Dunmow’s churchwarden accounts. This is the main source used in my dissertation for Cambridge University’s Master of Studies in Local History.  The title of my dissertation was  the not-so nattily titled “Religion and Society in Great Dunmow, Essex circa 1520 to circa 1560“

I decided on my blog’s name, Essex Voices Past, because I wanted my readers to be able to engage in the past and hear (figuratively speaking!) voices from the towns and villages of Essex.  However, since those early days of my blog, I now seem to be writing about towns in other counties within the East of England, such as Hertfordshire and Suffolk.  Perhaps I should have called my blog “The East of England Voices Past“!

Since I first started my blog back in 2012, my writings and my research have changed direction. Long before I started to research Tudor history, I had a lifelong passion for genealogy, local history, the First World War and vintage postcards.  I am very fortunate that over the last couple of years I have been able to professionally indulge in those passions and combine my obsessions to produce a number of history books for Amberley Publishing.  Unfortunately this has meant that my posts on this blog have decreased dramatically.  I still spend all my time researching and writing, but now my output is in book format.

To-date, I have three local history books to my name.

Click on the picture to purchase my book

Click on the picture to purchase my book

Click on the picture to purchase my book

This year, I am in the process of writing three further books for Amberley Publishing.  One book on the messages written on postcards from the First World War, and two more books on towns and villages in Essex.
– Postcards from the Front: 1914-1919
– Billericay and Around Through Time
– Brentwood and Around Through Time

My 10 most viewed posts over the last 12 months are as follows:-
– A pinch and a punch for the first of the month, and no returns
– Witchcraft and Witches in Elizabethan Essex
– School Trip Friday: Of cabbages and kings
– The sugar beet factor of Felsted/Little Dunmow
– Reformation wills and religious bequests
– Thomas Bowyer, weaver and martyr of Great Dunmow
– Bringing home the bacon – the Dunmow Flitch of Bacon Factory
– Images of Medieval Cats
– The Hidden Treasures of Essex
– Berbice House School, Great Dunmow

I will be continuing to write on this blog, but, as I said this time last year, probably not as frequently as previously.

Thank you for indulging me and allowing me to reflect on my year’s writing.

Kate Cole – The Narrator
Essex Voices Past
January 2016

© Essex Voices Past 2012-2016.

Wishing all my readers a Happy New Year

You may also be interested in
– Christmas Advent Calendar 2015
– Christmas Advent Calendar 2014
– Christmas Greetings from the Trenches 1914-1918
– Louis Wain: Happy Christmas Greetings 2013
– Christmas in a Tudor Town: Plough Monday
– Christmas in a Tudor Town: Part 1
– Christmas in a Tudor Town: Part 2
– Christmas in a Tudor Town: Part 3
– Medieval Christmas Stories: The Massacre of the Innocents
– Medieval Christmas Stories: The Feast of St Stephen
– Medieval Christmas Stories: The Nativity of Christ
– Medieval Christmas Stories: The Shepherds
– Medieval Christmas Stories: The Magi
– Medieval Christmas Stories: St Nicholas Eve

© Essex Voices Past 2016.

Genes are a funny thing…
Last weekend, I was sitting beside my dad’s bed in his nursing home, ordering some things from M&S for him on his laptop. (Even when you’re dying, you’ve still got to keep up your standards and shop at M&S!) After a couple of minutes I realised he was closely scrutinising me and he said to me “you look so like your brothers”. Then he paused and said “I’ve left my mark on you all”. He seemed very pleased with that, and for someone who will shortly be leaving this world, I think it brought him great comfort that he will be leaving the three of us behind looking so like him.

I looked around his room and saw all the books that my brothers and I have left for him to read – reading being one of the final great pleasures he can still enjoy. I realised that myself and my brothers have the same taste in books. Not learnt behaviour, as we haven’t spent enough time together as adults to have learnt each others reading habits. But somehow, somewhere we had inherited our love of books – in particular history – from our father.

Can strange things such as a love of history be passed on through our genes?

Genes are a terrible thing…
This week my little grandson was hospitalised because of his genes. His poor mummy and daddy have really gone through the mill with seeing their precious young baby poked, prodded, had a feeding tube inserted and put on a drip, along with endless consultations between the fantastic staff at Addenbrookes and Great Ormond Street. All because of a common childhold illness coupled with his genes makes a deadly combination.

One day genetic disorders such as my grandson’s MCADD (or to give it its full name Medium-chain acyl-CoA dehydrogenase deficiency) will be eradicated or solved with a daily tablet. Until that day comes, my precious grandchild – my daughter’s and son-in-law’s precious first born – faces being hospitalised with every single common or garden childhood illness. And my brave courageous daughter with her equally wonderful husband face the trauma of repeated visits to Addenbrookes and Great Ormond Street with their darling son.

Please support and give generously to Jeans for Genes Day who raise millions of pounds every single year for research into genetic disorders.

Thank you

© Essex Voices Past 2015

Just over a year ago, on her wedding day in January 2014, I told the story of my precious first born and the ordinary miracle of her birth.  Harrison Fisher’s charming Edwardian and art deco vintage postcards, along with Laurie Lee’s words about his own precious First Born, beautifully illustrated her and her beloved’s engagement and wedding.  At the time, I didn’t want to tempt fate by publishing on my post the very last postcard in Harrison Fisher’s series.

Today, I can show you that final postcard.

Welcome to the world to my first grandchild, a darling little boy, A.J.D., who arrived into the world yesterday morning at 3:08am (GMT) 9 February 2015 weighing in at a whooping 8lb 15oz.

Congratulations to my beautiful girl and her lovely husband – a precious couple’s new life as a family about to start with their own ordinary miracle: their First Born.

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Book writing and blog posting is firmly on hold for a few days but I will be continuing to write “Saffron Walden Through Time” and “Sudbury, Lavenham and Long Melford Through Time” very soon.

You may also be interested in
– My first born: An ordinary miracle

© Essex Voices Past 2015

This week is the third anniversary of me starting my blog, Essex Voices Past.  Reflecting back on the previous year, it has been an exciting and emotional year, both personally and professionally. Please indulge me by letting me reminisce back on my 2014.

Personally, I welcomed into our family my new son-in-law when my precious first born married her love almost exactly a year ago. I am delighted to say that they are expecting the imminent arrival of their own first-born anytime within the next few weeks. My second born, my beautiful wildchild (shhh don’t tell her I said that!) has also flown the nest to live in Bishop’s Stortford with her love. Ironically, whilst I was researching my first local history book, Bishop’s Stortford Through Time and coming home recounting tales of what a great place it is, my daughter also fell in love with the town. She and her young man now live in the historic centre of Bishop’s Stortford town. My youngest, my last born, who I had to home educate for a year (and wrote about on this blog in a series called School Trip Friday for the Academically Challenged), is now thriving at a specialist dyslexia school in the heart of rural Suffolk. My fight to get him an education he could access was worth the almighty fight I had with my local authority.

I am very proud of my family: my daughters, son and son-in-laws. With all the horrors currently going on in the world, it is fantastic to see the next generation steaming through and making something good of their lives.

My family – posing for a photograph for my first local history book

On the same note (my children), much of what happened when I was fighting for my son’s education should never have happened because of the laws and regulations in England, which are supposed to protect our vulnerable children. With that in mind, I complained to Local Government Ombudsman about my local authority’s behaviour during my struggle. In spring 2014, my complaint was upheld by the Ombudsman with the result that top bods at the Council had to apologise to me both in person and in writing for their behaviour, and give the Ombudsman assurances that they would change their processes. Justice for the little guy.

Professionally, I made the move from my career as a full-time technical business consultant, to concentrating on being a full-time historian and author (but still doing the very ad-hoc piece of IT work!). The move has been fantastic – I commuted for nearly 3 hours each working day from Essex into London for over thirty years. My commute is now 10 seconds: I rise from my bed to put the kettle on for the first cup of tea of the day before settling down at the kitchen table with a cuppa and opening my laptop ready to start work.

I have expanded my writing and now spend all my working time researching and writing either blog posts or books.  My first book Bishop’s Stortford Through Time was published in September and appears to be selling well. In October, to promote my book, I went on a virtual tour around the internet, talking about “all things history”.

In January 2014 I started writing a regular slot on Julie Goucher’s Worldwide Genealogy – an international collaboration of genealogists, family historians and historians. It is a fantastic blog, I do recommend you to take a look. My December post was about the famous Christmas Truce 1914.

Daily Mirror – Friday 08 January 1915,
© Copyright the British Library Board

Shortly before Christmas 2014, the British Newspaper Archive (a department of the British Library) printed a condensed version of my blog on the Christmas Truce 1914 on their own blog: The story of the 1914 Christmas Truce, as reported by WW1 newspapers. This led to an editor from the BBC World Service contacting me and requesting that I give two radio interviews to the BBC world service about my research into the Christmas Truce. It was very exciting to give the radio interviews and it was from this point that I finally felt that I had arrived as a bona fide historian.

My 2015 is also shaping up well with the highlight being the imminent arrival of my first grandchild.  I am also in the process of moving houses and will shortly be leaving Great Dunmow to live in one the most beautiful and wildest parts of Essex, on the Blackwater Estuary in between Heybridge and Goldhanger.  My current bannerhead on my blog is an aerial view of the Blackwater Estuary (photographed by my son’s drone) – my new house is “somewhere” on the photograph.  I will continue to write about the history of Great Dunmow and the beautiful district of Uttlesford, but will also be writing about Maldon and Heybridge.

X marks the spot of EssexVoicesPast’s favourite
place in the whole of England.

I also have four books – all commissioned by Amberley Publishing – in the pipeline. The first two on the list are shaping up well and are due to be published this summer.

• Saffron Walden Through Time
• Sudbury, Lavenham and Long Melford Through Time
• Billericay Through Time
• Postcards from the front: 1914-1919

My 10 most viewed posts over the last 3 years were as follows:-
– School trip Friday: Of cabbages and kings
– A pinch and a punch for the first of the month and no returns
– Queen Elizabeth I’s visit to Great Dunmow
– Images of medieval cats
– Interpreting primary sources – the 6 ‘w’s
– Thomas Bowyer, weaver and martyr of Great Dunmow d.1556
– The medieval spinsters
– Primary sources – ‘Unwitting Testimony’
– Elizabeth of York
– Witchcraft and bewitchment: the Tudor witches of Great Dunmow

I will be continuing to write on this blog, but perhaps not as frequent as before, until after my next two books have been completed.

Thank you for indulging me and allowing me to reflect.

Kate Cole – The Narrator
Essex Voices Past
January 2015

© Essex Voices Post 2012-2015