You never know what you have until it’s gone! I seem to be assembling a post lockdown buck-list of heritage sites to revisit next year. Towards the top of my list is the wonderful Weald and Download museum.
In these lockdown-days, I has having a look through my blog and came across some photographs that I posted on this blog when I visited the museum back in 2012.
Once these crazy strange pandemic days are over, how about adding the Weald and Downland museum to your 2021 post lockdown bucket-list?
You may be interested in the following links about the Weald and Downland Museum:
If you are very fortunate, you might live in a fabulous house like the ones on display at the Weald and Downland museum. But if, like me, you don’t, you may still be interested about the history of your house. Here’s some posts from my blog that might interested you:-
How has your VE Day commemorations been in these strange lockdown days? Did you have a socially-distanced tea party in your own home? Very different today to the vast street parties that were held in May 1945! Do you have photos of your family celebrating during the original VE Day in 1945? Maybe you’ve identified people by using the 1939 Register?
It’s a very long shot. Comparing a photograph to the text and words of the official 1939 Register. Especially as 5Ā½ wars of a long war had been fought between the Register of September 1939 and VE Day May 1945.
If you haven’t already used it before, maybe a new resource for you? Ideal to meander over the Register in these strange lockdown times…
How was the 1939 Register’s data collected?
It was a mammoth task to collect the country’s information in those dark days of September 1939. This is how it was achieved…
āOn the evening of 29 September 1939, āNational Registration Dayā, heads of household completed the details of every individual who spent the night on their premises, āwhether as members, visitors, boarders or servantsā. Collected by one of 65,000 enumerators, each registration form was transcribed into one of the Registerās 7000 volumes.ā[1]
When each registration form was transcribed into one of the 7,000 volumes, the enumerator worked from a map of each district.Ā Thus, the entries for a particular place was compiled as if the enumerator was physically walking through that place. As if he was completing his register as he walked.
Unfortunately, these maps either have not survived or are not available. I’ve tried finding them – let me know if I’m wrong and you’ve found these maps somewhere.
After the war…
The Register became an important system for government. It was used right up until the 1990s for National Insurance purposes. Then with computerisation, the Register became redundant.
The 1939 Register was digitally released only a few years ago. It instantly became an important resource for family historians and house-historians alike.Ā
Understanding the 1939 Register
Online, there are informative guides and videos about the 1939 Register.Ā I can recommend the following resources for reading and watching:
As it gives a snippet of life at the start of the Second World War, the 1939 Register is an important historic document
Why were changes made to individual entries on the Register?
As the 1939 Register was used was a āworking documentā by the National Health Service up to the 1990s, a womanās married name was often written above her maiden name long after 1939.Ā
In my own motherās case (she was 5 in 1939), her married name was written above her entry on the 1939 Register. This would have happened sometime after her 1956 marriage to my father. So at least 23 years after the original Register was compiled, a governmental admin person had to locate her on the original 1939 Register. Then he had to update the Register with by crossing out her maiden name and writing her married name.
This was even though she lived at the house only for a few weeks in September 1939. She was one of the original early evacuees and went from London to her aunt in Twickenham, Surrey for a few weeks during the phoney war.
Why are some records still closed?
Many records are still closed because it is assumed that person is still alive.Ā This is the black redacted line through entries stating, āThis record is officially closedā.Ā
However, the redaction can be hit and miss. Some entries (for people sadly long dead) have been redacted. But others still alive today have their 1939 entry wrongly open to public view.
The register is a great resource for genealogists and family historians. It is also an amazing resource for tracing the history of your house. Or the history of a house a twentieth century ancestor once lived in.
I use the 1939 Register for researching the 20th century history of my clients’ houses.
Have you used the 1939 Register for house-histories? There are so many skills that cross-over from family history to house-histories.
Every house has a story
My free online mini-course “Every house has a story“ shows how familiar genealogical resources – such as the 1939 Register – can be used to research the history of your house. Or the history of a 20th century ancestor’s house.
Come join my free mini-course Every house has a story by clicking the picture. It’s totally free and you may discover some new family history resources to try out!
Put your genealogical skills to further use!
You may also be interested in these posts from my blog
Do you know who lived in your house 80 years ago today?…
Exactly 80 years ago today, a remarkable event took place in Britain…
The compulsory National Registration of every single person living in Britain.
And, as a direct consequence, every single home was registered with full details of each homeās occupants.
80 years ago this month Britain declared war on Germany after the invasion of Poland.
It was the inevitable. But preparations for evacuating children out of dangerous areas ā such as London – had been taking place for weeks.
This from the āLog book of Wilson Marriage Senior School – Colchesterā
24 August 1939 – Headmaster returned to school to complete arrangements for reception of evacuees from London
25-30 August 1939 – ground floor room ‘prepared for darkening’, emergency rations for evacuees received and stored in Handicraft Room
31 August 1939 – all staff recalled
1 September – 809 evacuees passed through school
2 September – 1159 evacuees passed through school
3 September – 1362 evacuees passed through school
4 September ā 115 evacuees passed through school
School reopened, girls to attend in morning, boys in afternoon, four air raid shelters ready, children allocated to air raid shelters with two teachers in charge of each, air raid drill, arrangements made to protect boiler room, instructions to caretaker for turning off gas and electricity
On the 29 September 1939, the government undertook a massive exercise to register every single person in Britain and where they were living on that precise day.
Everyone was issued with an identity card.
Now known as the ā1939 National Registerā, the register is a remarkable glimpse into the world of people and places at the outbreak of war.
You can learn who lived in your house in 1939 by looking at this register. The number of people in your home, their dates of birth, and occupations. If any children with different surnames were living in your home on 29 September 1939, then possibly they were evacuated children.
The 1939 Register is a precise point in history where you can discover who lived in your home on that day.
There are several other points in history where you can find accurate details about your home and its occupants. Even down to its exact layout on your villageās/townās map and the number of rooms in your house.
Specific reference points that can give you stories of your home. Both the building and its occupants.
Want to learn more and uncover your homeās secret history?
PS Did you know… that the 1939 National Register was used as a living breathing “working document” by the NHS right up to their computerisation in the 1990s?
What mysteries does your home hold?
What ghoulish secrets does your house conceal?
Did high drama play out between your four walls?
You donāt have to live in a medieval mansion for your home to be interesting.
Maybe youāre in a Victorian cottage ā like the ones in Lavenham. Today beautiful red-brick homes, but originally built to house Lavenhamās 18th and 19th century workers.
Such as the tiny cottages built by master woolstapler, Thomas Turner (1784-1864).
Or you live in a converted Victorian school ā as I once did. My first flat in those heady days of the 80s when converted flat cost Ā£41,500. My āmust-haveā first home!
Whether you live in a fine Tudor hall-house or a humble one-up, one down, all homes have their own story to tell.
If walls really could talk, then you would easily find out your homeās riddles.
But, sadly, your four walls probably remain enigmatically quiet and mysterious.
The next best thing to talking wall is to join me on my unique online course
All over the landscape in England and Wales there are still signs (literally) of our medieval past.
Carmelite Way, Maldon
The past that we once had before Henry VIII destroyed one of the biggest āsystemsā in English/Welsh history.
Look around the towns and villages where you live. Can you see signs that a monastic building was once in your midst?
Where I live in Essex, the county was once full of monasteries ā weāve looked at several this week.
But there were others in Essex, now long gone with not even fragments of ruins left. But they can still be found in the names of houses, roads and communities.
āŖļøĀ Stansgate Abbey Farm: although this name is slightly misleading as it implies a great abbey once stood here. This was shut in an earlier round of Henry VIIIās closures ā shut in 1525 long before the king broke with Rome. Shut because the āAbbeyā only had a prior and 2 monks! So, this was not a great and powerful Abbey like the one Bury St Edmunds. But its name still lives on in the areaās landscape.
āŖļøĀ Priors Green in Little Canfield: a modern naming invention, but various town plannersā and developersā reflection back to Thremhall Priory (closed in 1536).
āŖļøĀ Priory Lane in Tiptree: a name reflecting Tiptree Priory ā closed in 1525 (another early closure by Henry VIII). Purchased in 1547 by the powerful DāArcy family. The current house built by Englandās first witchfinder, Brian DāArcy. He lived here in 1570s until he moved to St Osythās former abbey (where he proceeded to create havoc and unhappiness in 1582 by accusing numerous locals of being witches).
āŖļøĀ Friary Field/Friary Lane/Carmelite Way in Maldon: names reflecting the siteās former use as Maldon’s Carmelite Friary.
Next time you park your car in Maldon, think on – this area was once part of the lands of the Friary and five hundred years ago walked monks tending their gardensā¦
And where in 1540 in the ruins of the priory was performed a very anti-Catholic play, Saint John the Baptist, written by the granddaddy of all English dramatists, Dr John Bale.
Dr John Bale, Maldon’s last Prior, and probably England’s first Protestant playwright.
The story of your house…
Are there any houses or road names or areas near you that reflect the fact that there was once a monastic building where you live?
If you are fascinated about the history of your home, then youāll be interested in my new online course
š” If Walls Could Talkā¦
Uncover the secret history of your homeš”
Enrolment is now open…
Course commences on Monday 30 September 2019
I hope youāll join me and take part in this fascinating course. Learn how you can trace the history of your home.
As this is the first pilot version of my course, itāll be offered at a very special low price that will not be repeated.
Tracing the history of your house isn’t just about the physical bricks and mortar building. Or, in many cases, flint, or stone, or wattle and daub or timber framed structure.
It’s also about the land your house is on…Including former monastic land
The other day, we looked at several monasteries that were forcibly closed by Henry VIII in the 1530s. We also looked at how the Reformation was one of the largest visible attacks on the English landscape. Scars that are still visible today. Some scars more subtle then others…
All over England and Wales are remnants of great monastic buildings. Essex is no exception, with immense religious houses that were dissolved by the kingās men in the 1530s, still present today.
Beeleigh Abbey, Maldon, Essex
Here is another former medieval monastery, today a private residential house ā Beeleigh Abbey in Maldon.
Beeleigh Abbey, Maldon
In 1536, the abbey was valued as having a yearly value of Ā£196 6s. 5d ā a substantial sum for the time. This was a reasonably wealthy Abbey ā maybe not as rich and powerful as great abbeys elsewhere ā such as the majestic (and far too powerful) abbey at Bury St Edmunds.
But valuable, nonetheless.
When Beeleigh Abbey was closed in the 1530s, the Abbot was pensioned off at the yearly rate of Ā£18 (approximately Ā£8,000 in todayās money).
Remember, Henry didnāt have to pay pensions ā he forcefully seized the monasteries and personally decided if its heads received a pension. Not all did. The Abbot at Beeleigh Abbey was lucky…
After the abbey was closed, on 6 June 1536, an inventory was taken of the contents of Beeleigh Abbey. There were
štapestries and other articles of furniture in the different chambers (the great chamber, the children’s chamber, the dining chamber). [The question here is – whatās a childrenās bedroom doing in an abbey supposedly solely inhabited by male monks!!!]
šbeds and bedding;
šmalt and implements in the brewhouse;
ša table of alabaster at the high altar (valued at 13s. 4d.), with altar-cloths, mass-books, etc.,
šornaments of the Lady chapel (including a pair of organs at 100s.), the Jesus chapel, the rood chapel, the chapel of St. Katharine and the vestry;
šarticles in the kitchen, buttery and infirmary;
šcattle;
šwith some plate remaining in the hands of the commissioners. [ie the kingās men nicked some of the abbeyās gold and silver before it was properly recorded!!!!]
šThe goods were valued at Ā£74 18s. 10d., cattle worth Ā£31 15s. and corn worth Ā£14 3s. 8d.
šThe debts due to the house amounted to Ā£32 11s. 2d., and those due by it Ā£121 18s. 4d.,
šThere were 129Ā¾ ounces of plate [ie gold and silver], valued at Ā£23 16s. 6d.
(Inventory above from āHouse of Premonstratensian Canons: Abbey of Beeleigh by Maldonā, Victoria County Histories, 1907)
After it was shut in 1536 and its Abbot pensioned off at Ā£18 per year, Beeleigh Abbey was granted to Henryās friend, Sir John Gates, Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster. Sir John was a very active supporter of the Dissolution of the Monasteries and Henry VIII. Being granted Beeleigh Abbey was his reward.
However, the Tudor period were troubled times ā back the wrong person and it was literally āoff with your headā.
In 1553, after the death of Henryās son and successor, Edward VI, Sir John backed the wrong side. He was part of the attempt to place the ill-fated Tudor pawn, Lady Jane Grey, onto the English throne instead of Henryās Catholic daughter, Mary.
His reward for this doomed and disastrous conspiracy was to misplace his head on Tower Hill in August 1553.
Being granted Beeleigh Abbey by Henry VIII certainly didnāt bring Sir John good fortune!
After the Tudors, the former abbey passed through the hands of many owners. Most famously, the ownership by the Foyle family ā the renowned booksellers. The story of its role as the home of the Foyles is well-documented.
However, it is its past as an religious abbey that has always interested me and the role that this, and other monasteries, played in medieval and Tudor England.
Beeleigh Abbey’s tunnels…
Incidentally, there has long been a rumour that there was/is a network of underground tunnels that run from Beeleigh Abbey through to All Saints Church in Maldon. And that when the Abbey was forcefully closed in the 1530s, the monks escaped through this network of tunnels to All Saints church.
I donāt doubt for one moment that this network of tunnels did once exist – and are probably still there, deep underground. However, I strongly argue that not a single monk used these tunnels to escape to All Saintsā¦
I can assert this for several reasons.
Firstly, the Abbot was granted a pension. If his monks had rebelled and fled, then the Abbot would not have been granted this pension.
Henry did not take kindly to trouble-makers. If you were lucky, you ended up on Tower Hill – if unlucky then the fate of either being burnt at the stake or being hanged drawn and quartered awaited you – monks included.
Rebelling fleeing monks and an abbot being granted a yearly substantial pension simply does not add up.
Secondly, thereās no known uprising when Henry shut the monasteries in Essex. There was certainly trouble in the north of the country ā but not in Essex.
But, for me, more conclusively that the monks didnāt flee to All Saints is that the vicar was most certainly NOT sympathetic to the Catholic cause.
The vicar of All Saints church at the time Beeleigh Abbey was closed was William Walton, a man who was also the vicar of St Maryās in Great Dunmow (in those days, men could ā and were – vicars of two or more parishes).
William Walton was a very early Protestant ā in the days when it was dangerous to openly declare yourself as such. Walton associated with many other early Protestant men such as Dr John Bale – one of the last Priors of Maldonās Carmelite Monastery.
Despite previously being a devout Catholic monk and Prior, Dr Bale became a staunch Protestant. He was so Protestant that in 1540 he performed a very inflammatory anti-Catholic play in the ruins of the Carmelite Friary in Maldon ā watched (and partially financed) by the vicar of All Saints, William Walton.
News of Dr Baleās activities and his plays quickly reached the ears of the king, and Bale fled abroad in 1540 to evade Henryās vengeful wrath.
The vicar of All Saints in Maldon, William Walton was a loyal friend of Dr John Bale. Thus, he had firm Protestant tendencies ā these tendencies can also be seen in his other parish in Great Dunmow.
There is absolutely no way that vicar Walton would have protected fleeing monks from Beeleigh Abbey.
So whilst I do believe that these secret tunnels did/do exist and were used in medieval times, they certainly werenāt used to protect fleeing monks.
Dr John Bale and his role in the Carmelite Friary in Maldon has always fascinated me. He wrote and performed many anti-Catholic plays all over the east of England ā including the one performed in Maldon ā and was financially supported by the likes of Thomas Cromwell and the Earl of Oxford.
Today, Dr Bale is becoming widely acknowledged and celebrated by scholars as the forerunner to Shakespeare.
The granddaddy of English playwrights was right here, in sleepy Tudor Maldon!
And he is my final proof that the Protestant vicar of All Saints church would not have accepted fleeing Catholic monks.
Thus, all the evidence points to the fact that those tunnels between Beeleigh Abbey and All Saints Church were definitely not used by fleeing monks in 1536…
I digress…again…
The monasteries…
Weāve looked at monasteries that fell into ruin and are now scars on the English countryside ā reminding us of a more troubled times five hundred years ago.
Monastic buildings such as
āŖļøĀ Greyfriars Friary in Dunwich, Suffolk; āŖļøĀ The great powerful abbey at Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk.
Weāve also looked at monasteries that were given away (or sold) by Henry VIII to his favourites and were later used as houses. For example,
āŖļøĀ Walden Abbey in Saffron Walden – now the World Heritage Site, Audley End House; āŖļøĀ Beeleigh Abbey in Maldon ā now a private residence.
These are just a few of those former monasteries that have merged into todayās landscape. Every single county in England and Wales will have examples of monasteries in ruins, or monasteries incorporated into todayās homes.
Former monasteries were also incorporated into todayās parish churches. Here in Essex a few instantly spring to mind
āŖļøĀ St Andrewās parish church in Hatfield Peverel. Originally the church was attached to Hatfield Peverelās Priory (closed in 1536)
āŖļøĀ St Mary the Virgin parish church in Tilty. Part of todayās church was once a āchapel outside the gates of Tilt[e]yās Abbeyā (Abbey closed in 1536). Today, the once magnificent Tilty Abbey has totally vanished ā apart from a couple of tiny ruins.
āŖļøĀ St Mary the Virgin parish church in Little Dunmow. In medieval/Tudor times, the village was known as either Dunmow Parva or Dunmow Priory. The latter name an acknowledgement to the Augustinian Priory that stood in the village (closed in 1536).
Little Dunmow Priory
Dunmow Priory was the original home of the traditional English custom still held in Essex today ā the Dunmow Flitch. Although since the 1850s, the Dunmow Flitch is normally held in Great Dunmow ā not Little Dunmow.
I say ānormallyā because in the mid-twentieth century the trials were also held in other Essex locations such as Ilford and Maldon.
The Flitch Trials held at Dunmow Priory were so well known that Chaucer wrote about them in his fourteenth century tale about the āThe Wife of Bathā
(Sometimes I really do despair about historians’ shocking lack of attention to detail of the Essex countryside. Iāve read several scholarly articles from historians and Chaucer buffs who assert that the Priory was in Great Dunmow. Often, they even include a photograph of St Maryās church in Great Dunmow and say that it was Dunmow Priory. Hmmmm, it wasnāt! Shocking scholarly research!)
So, after the closing of the monasteries, some buildings were incorporated into parish churches. Itās interesting to note that Henry VIII couldnāt totally rid the landscape of religious buildings.
It would be a good piece of research to undertake to see which East of England former monasteries
– became ruins
– were sold to Henryās mates and became splendid residential properties
– stayed as religious buildings and became parish churches (or part of a parish church).
I wonder if there was any rhyme or reason to which monasteries crumbled into ruins and which had better fates?
I suspect the richness of the land and buildings played some part. Although in others – such as the destruction of the extremely powerful and wealthy abbey at Bury St Edmunds must have been for political reasons (or Henry VIII setting an example).
The story of your house…
Are there any houses or road names or areas near you that reflect the fact that there was once a monastic building where you live?
If you are fascinated about the history of your home, then youāll be interested in my new online course
š” If Walls Could Talkā¦
Uncover the secret history of your homeš”
Enrolment is now open…
Course commences on Monday 30 September 2019
I hope youāll join me and take part in this fascinating course. Learn how you can trace the history of your home.
As this is the first pilot version of my course, itāll be offered at a very special low price that will not be repeated.
Tracing the history of your house isn’t just about the physical bricks and mortar building. Or, in many cases, flint, or stone, or wattle and daub or timber framed structure.
It’s also about the land your house is on…
As an island nation, we have been relatively lucky that war has left little trace on the landscape of our country.
Of course, throughout time, there has been battles fought on our soil. Some of which were very bloody – the war between Stephen and Matilda, the War of the Roses, the Civil Wars of the 1640s….
However, we haven’t had the wide-scale destruction as seen elsewhere. For example, as a consequence of two world wars, European countries such as Belgium, France and Germany saw wide-scale annihilation.
Apart from war and battles, the next biggest visible scar on England’s landscape today is that of Henry VIII’s Reformation.
The English Reformation…
Once the Tudor king decided to rid himself of the popeās power in England, religious houses were forcible closed all over the country.
And if Henry VIIIās destruction was not enough, then his son, the Protestant boy-king Edward VI, followed through his fatherās policies in the 1540s by wiping out any remaining religious houses.
Henry VIIIās destruction, of what was arguably one of the first social care and welfare systems in England, is all too apparent at Dunwich (Suffolk) within the ruins of Greyfriars.
Greyfriars, Dunwich, Suffolk
Until the Friary was seized by the Bishop of Dover in 1538, it had been a very successful Franciscan monastery from the time of its establishment in the 1250s.
Its size and grandeur can only be imagined as you wander through its ruins.
Where once monks tended the land and went about their daily business, now there are only animals grazing and munching within the Friaryās ruins.
Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk
The destruction and looting of the monasteries took place all over the English countryside…
Today, all over the English countryside, there are remnants of former great monastic buildings. Wiped out by the actions of a greedy and too powerful king.
One extremely powerful and wealthy monastery was at Bury St Edmunds – the abbey of St Edmundsbury.
The abbey was famed in Norman and Medieval times for holding the relics of the martyred Anglo-Saxon king of East Anglia, Edmund the Martyr (also known as Saint Edmund).
Attacking Danes murdered the king in 869 and in 903 his remains were brought to what was then a tiny religious community in the small town known as Beodericsworth.
From that time onwards, the religious community grew in wealth and prosperity, resulting in the foundation of the abbey in 1020. It became one of the richest and most powerful Benedictine abbeys within England.
A shrine was built to St Edmund during the 11th century and this developed into an extraordinarily popular holy place for pilgrims to visit. Pilgrimages to holy places within England was a common pursuit for the devout of the middle ages prior to the Reformation sweeping away such journeys.
The abbey was also influential with political events. In 1214, during the reign of King John, dissatisfied earls and barons gathered at the abbey to discuss their criticisms of the king.
The following year the barons notoriously forced the king to sign the Magna Carta at Runnymede.
The abbeyās vast wealth and fortunes ended in 1539 when St Edmundsbury abbey surrendered to the king.
The great abbey was no more and over the centuries fell into decay.
No doubt material from this once magnificent abbey was used as building matter for surrounding houses.
Today, the abbeyās former fortunes can still be determined by the vast scale of its ruins.
Wandering around in half-light can be an unnerving experience. If only the walls could talk, what tales would they tell? No doubt stories of Norman monks and abbots, medieval pilgrims, discontented knights and barons, rioting townsfolk, and the abbeyās final days during its death-throes of this once great institution…..
There is a unique postscript to the fortunes of the abbey… Archaeologists believe that St Edmundās remains are still buried within the abbeyās gardens.
If a medieval king can be found in a car park in Leicester, then will an Anglo-Saxon king be discovered under tennis courts in Bury St Edmunds?
The closing of the Monasteries
All over the English & Welsh countryside, today we can see the ruins of once great and magnificent religious houses. For example, my childhood favorite haunt, Tintern Abbey in Monmouthshire (shut in 1536); and Fountains Abbey in Yorkshire (closed in 1539)
Just a few of the monasteries whose ruins are haunting scars on the countryside. Every single county within England or Wales had at least one medieval monastic building. Some counties had several hundred.
All destroyed by a power-crazed king.
Incidentally, as most people know, Henry VIII was a despotic king who shut the monasteries and kicked out the pope from being the head of the English church. But did you know Henry died a Catholic king? He was never ever Protestant.
If you had lived during that troubled time and suggested to the wrong person that the king was a Protestant ā you would be burnt at the stake for High Treason.
Moreover, by the late 1530s, Henry VIII (or more likely his side-kick, Thomas Cromwell) was also gunning to seize the wealth of parish churches (some were extremely wealthy). Henry didnāt succeedā¦ Cromwell got too big for his boots and was executed in 1540 – before the wealth of parish churches could be seized. Henry didnāt carry out that task.
But where he failed, his son, Edward VI, succeeded. Edward ā despite being a boy-king ā was even more despotic and fanatical then his father.
I digress. You see thatās the problem with Tudor history. Itās so interesting that I always get side-trackedā¦
Back to the monasteries.
Walden Abbey, Essex
Not all former monastic buildings are in ruins today. After they were forcibly closed, and the monks ejected from their former homes, Henry VIII had the habit of selling the buildings to his mates.
One such former monastery was the majestic abbey in the north Essex town of Walden (now Saffron Walden).
In 1538, Henry VIII seized Walden Abbey and gave it to his Lord Chancellor, Sir Thomas Audley (c.1488-1544).
Audley converted the abbey into his own extensive residence. When he died, the house passed down to his descendants through his daughterās line to the Howards.
Yep that famous Tudor family ā the Earls of Suffolk.
Over the next 500 years, the house changed ownership several times ā from kings of England to the nobility. It was built, rebuilt, remodeled and then redone yet again. (Youāll have to read my book “Saffron Walden and Around Through Time” to see who owned it and when! And who remodeled it! )
Suffice to say, that today it is a magnificent building – the whole site is a World Heritage Site.
But it started life as Walden Abbey, a religious house for medieval monks.
Check back next week for part 2!
The story of your house…
Are there any houses or road names or areas near you that reflect the fact that there was once a monastic building where you live?
If you are fascinated about the history of your home, then youāll be interested in my new online course
š” If Walls Could Talkā¦
Uncover the secret history of your homeš”
Enrolment is now open…
Course commences on Monday 30 September 2019
I hope youāll join me and take part in this fascinating course. Learn how you can trace the history of your home.
As this is the first pilot version of my course, itāll be offered at a very special low price that will not be repeated.
When I was researching my book “Sudbury, Long Melford, and Lavenham Through Time” (available from Amazon), this postcard from the early 1900s totally and utterly baffled me.
Bull Inn, Long Melford
I “knew” I was in the right place for the Bull Hotel, but I just couldn’t find the building.
This was bizarre.
Iāve long known Long Melford’s Bull Inn – with its very large and striking Tudor frontage.
I’d first encountered the hotel when I went to a lovely wedding reception there in the late 90s. Additionally, I had stayed in the Bull several times in the years immediately before I wrote my book.
But looking at my postcard showing the hotel from the early 1900s, I had a totally ditzy moment about it. I thought the photographer had incorrectly captioned it. It just didn’t look like the Bull I knew and loved.
So I walked up and down Long Melford’s three mile-long Hall Street looking for this Georgian building…
That was a bad research day – pouring with rain – I was being totally ditzy – walking up and down Hall Street – and I ended up soaked through with sore feet!
I just could not locate the building…
Then I twigged I’d been looking at it all along and it was hiding in plain sight.
Of course, when trying to locate the building, I’d totally forgetton the Georgian’s and Victorian’s love for cladding beautiful Tudor timber-framed buildings with plaster or brick.
The facade shown in my early 1900s postcard was placed onto the building in the 1820s. For over a hundred years, the Bull Hotel had the appearance of a grand square-fronted symmetrical Georgian building – not a sprawling timber framed Tudor structure.
But the cladding was finally taken down in 1935 – revealing its original beautiful timber-framed Tudor building.
Strange to think that our Victorian and Edwardian ancestors – if they’d visited Long Melford – would have seen the Bull Hotel as being a splendidly imposing Georgian building.
During the Georgian period, many gorgeous Tudor timber-framed houses were encased in a red-brick facade. We think them to be an elegant Georgian buildings. Whereas they’re hiding in plain sight a fabulous Tudor structure.
Do you live in a Georgian house? Is it hiding it’s past?
If you are fascinated about the history of your home, then youāll be interested in my new online course
š” If Walls Could Talkā¦
Uncover the secret history of your homeš”
Make you note in your diary… signup starts from 19 September 2019.
Course commences on Monday 30 September 2019
Keep an eye on my blog throughout rest of September for more news.
I’m also doing regular posts on my Facebook page about how to
š”š” Uncover the secret history of your homeš”š”
I hope youāll join me and take part in this fascinating course. Learn how you can trace the history of your home.
As this is the first pilot version of my course, itāll be offered at a very special low price that will not be repeated.
Resources for tracing the history of your home
I’ve written a short pdf listing some of the resources that you can use for researching the history of your house.
Download 25 online resources for uncovering the secret history of your home…
By giving us your details, you are agreeing to join our email list to receive emails and offers on our services. You can unsubscribe at any time by clicking the link in the footer of our emails, or from this website. For information about our privacy practices, click here. We use Mailchimp as our marketing platform. By clicking below to subscribe, you acknowledge that your information will be transferred to Mailchimp for processing. Learn more about Mailchimp’s privacy practices here.
The not so secret past of houses in Hutton Poplars
The other day I told you about the first home I purchased in the 1980s – a converted Victorian school in Wimbledon.
After I left Wimbledon, I moved to Hutton close to Shenfield in Essex. Where I became fascinated by the history of the new houses that were then being built in an area known as Hutton Poplars – in the grounds of a former Edwardian school.
For anyone visiting or passing through Hutton, this building is a familiar sight – Hutton Poplar Lodge. It looks the same today as it did when this photograph was taken one hundred years ago – shortly before the First World War.
It is one of only three buildings that have survived from a large Edwardian industrial school founded by, among others, George Lansbury in 1906. This building was once the porters’ lodge.
During the final years of the nineteenth century, Poplar Board of Guardians decided to sell their Forest Gate training schools because of the terrible conditions. On New Year’s Day 1890, a devastating fire broke out in the Forest Gate school and 26 small boys died.
Despite this appalling fire and the generally awful conditions, the school continued in Forest Gate until the early 1900s.
Chairman of Poplar Board of Guardians, George Lansbury, a social reformer, paid a visit to rural Hutton (next to Shenfield) and liked what he saw. At Lansburyās instigation, Hutton Industrial School (also known as Poplar Union Training School) was built in 1906 at the cost of Ā£160,000.
Originally founded as a residential school for pauper boys from Poplar, the school eventually accommodated both boys and girls based around the concept of a ācottage homeā.
Fortunately, this school did not have same appalling reputation that Hackney Industry School had in nearby Brentwood. The school in Hutton was generally so well-run that the Board of Guardians had to appear before a Parliamentary Committee accused of “extravagances” in the new school!
The school closed in the 1980s and the majority of its buildings were demolished – apart from 3 buildings still present today.
Today the area is known as Hutton Poplars and contains extensive new housing.
Is your house in Hutton Poplars? If it is, did you know the story of the area?
Here’s a quiz for you. George Lansbury later became the British Labour Leader in the 1930s. He had a very very famous grandchild – an absolute legend. What’s his grandchild’s name? (No Googling!!)
New Online Course to trace the history of your home…
If you are fascinated about the history of your home, then youāll be interested in my new online course
š” If Walls Could Talkā¦ Uncover the secret history of your homeš”
Make you note in your diary… signup starts from 19 September 2019.
Course commences on Monday 30 September 2019
Keep an eye on my blog throughout rest of September for more news.
I’m also doing regular posts on my Facebook page about how to
š”š” Uncover the secret history of your homeš”š”
I hope youāll join me and take part in this fascinating course. Learn how you can trace the history of your home.
As this is the first pilot version of my course, itāll be offered at a very special low price that will not be repeated.
Resources for tracing the history of your home
I’ve written a short pdf listing some of the resources that you can use for researching the history of your house.
Download 25 online resources for uncovering the secret history of your home…
By giving us your details, you are agreeing to join our email list to receive emails and offers on our services. You can unsubscribe at any time by clicking the link in the footer of our emails, or from this website. For information about our privacy practices, click here. We use Mailchimp as our marketing platform. By clicking below to subscribe, you acknowledge that your information will be transferred to Mailchimp for processing. Learn more about Mailchimp’s privacy practices here.
This is the first home I purchased. Back in the heady days of the low property prices of the 1980s.
It was a converted flat ā converted from an old Victorian school built in 1896 (so the date plaque on the right entrance states).
When it was built, Wimbledon was in Surrey ā the inscription over the left entrance āS.C.C.ā marking that it was a school under the governance of Surrey County Council. But without the building moving an inch, itās now in the London Borough of Merton.
I was in my very early 20s and fell in love with the flat the minute I set my eyes on it.
I knew I had to have it.
I first saw it literally as it was being converted from a school to a block of one-bedroom flats. I wish Iād had a camera back then to record the renovationās progress!!
When I bought the flat in 1986, it cost Ā£41,500 ā then an arm and a leg. Other nearby one-bedroom flats were all between Ā£35,000 to Ā£38,000. The jump to Ā£41,500 was massive. Well, it was in those days! I had to take on a massive mortgage at stupid interest rates to pay for it.
But I was obsessed with it.
I had started genealogical research when I was just 18. But until this point, I hadnāt dipped my toes into local history. However, when I saw this building, I not only fell in love with the building, but also the local history of the area.
And the idea of living in an old Victorian school.
The converted flats kept the 2 original entrances either end of the block; one for girls and the other for boys. The developers also added a new central entrance for those of us whose front-doors were in the middle. To this day, I can still recall the noise of the buzzer and door-release.
The central large-oval window in the block was the massive window on the landing leading to the front-doors of all the central flats. The small window to its right (top floor) was my bedroom. Immediately above my bedroom’s ceiling was a massive full height loft that I always intended ā but never did ā investigate.
To its right ā and the last huge window on the right of the building ā was my living room. Not a massive room ā conversions were very lacking in space in the 80s!. But it had a massive 20+ foot high ceiling.
A high living-room ceiling is an obsession that Iāve always had – dating from this wonderful flat. My current living room ā many miles (in more ways then one) from my first flat ā is also 20+ foot high. That’s despite my home today not being a Victorian converted property, but a house purpose-built in 2000.
My living room in my flat was part of the old schoolās hall. Sometimes at night, I used to lie in bed, imagining the noise of the children in their school hall. In fact, on the night of the Great Hurricane of 1987, I thought theyād all come back to pay me a visit. Until I realised that it was Mother Nature conjuring her wrath on my road ā not the ghosts of small children.
I spent three very happy years there. I never did research its history as a school. I bought every single local history book that was out at the time. There were a wide range of local history books even then, and those books are today still on my overflowing bookcases. When I’m long gone, my children (all born and bred in Essex) will wonder why I have countless books on Wimbledon and Merton (unless they read this post!).
I moved out reluctantly (but happily) in September 1989 when my eldest was on her way. No room for a baby in a 2nd floor one-bedroom flat – no lift and no storage (even if there was a massive loft!).
When I lived in there in the late 80s, there was no parking restrictions. I can see from Googleās StreetView that there is now.
The fun I had parking on that road! First come, first serve to the few parking spaces back then. But in those days, it was only one car per flat ā and 9 flats. With most homes today having at least two cars, it must be mayhem nowā¦
But I moved to Essex, and the rest, as they say is history (at least, for my family). Once I was a Surrey girl, now Iām an honorary Essex girl!
My obsession with local history started in this building and I look at it with fond memories.
I regret that I didnāt take photographs as they changed the building from being Victorian school to a modern luxurious block of flats.
And I will always regret that I never did research its history when I lived there.
Since the 1980s, plenty of Victorian red-brick schools across the country have been renovated into houses and flats.
āDo you live in a converted school? ā
āOr do you live (or once lived) in a home that has been converted from another use – such as a hospital, workhouse, mill or a pub?ā
~~~~~~~~~~~
If you are fascinated about the history of your home, then youāll be interested in my new online course
š” If Walls Could Talkā¦ Uncover the secret history of your homeš”
Make you note in your diary… signup starts from 19 September 2019.
Course commences on Monday 30 September 2019
Keep an eye on my blog throughout rest of September for more news.
I’m also doing regular posts on my Facebook page about how to
š”š” Uncover the secret history of your homeš”š”
I hope youāll join me and take part in this fascinating course. Learn how you can trace the history of your home.
As this is the first pilot version of my course, itāll be offered at a very special low price that will not be repeated.
Resources for tracing the history of your home
I’ve written a short pdf listing some of the resources that you can use for researching the history of your house.
Download 25 online resources for uncovering the secret history of your home…
By giving us your details, you are agreeing to join our email list to receive emails and offers on our services. You can unsubscribe at any time by clicking the link in the footer of our emails, or from this website. For information about our privacy practices, click here. We use Mailchimp as our marketing platform. By clicking below to subscribe, you acknowledge that your information will be transferred to Mailchimp for processing. Learn more about Mailchimp’s privacy practices here.
This website uses cookies so that we can provide you with the best user experience possible. Cookie information is stored in your browser and performs functions such as recognising you when you return to our website and helping our team to understand which sections of the website you find most interesting and useful.
Find out more about how our site works and how we put you in control by navigating the tabs on the this pop-up window.
Strictly Necessary Cookies
Strictly Necessary Cookie should be enabled at all times so that we can save your preferences for cookie settings.
If you disable this cookie, we will not be able to save your preferences. This means that every time you visit this website you will need to enable or disable cookies again.