High Country History Group

ANNUAL GENERAL MEETING

The meeting attracted some 40+ members. The following were elected for the forthcoming year:

Chairman: Rob Brooks
Secretary: Shirley Fisher
Treasurer: Vacant
Newsletter Editor: Martyn Lockwood
Committee: Anne Padfield
Patrick Griggs
Maurice Padfield
Keith Farrow.

Following the AGM members recollected their experiences of the 1950’s and Her Majesty The Queen’s Coronation. An edited version of these experiences will appear in the next edition of the newsletter.

The programme for the next 12 months is printed later in the newsletter.

The first meeting of the new year was held on the 25 April when some 53 members attended a talk on ‘God’s Acre’ given by yours erstwhile editor.

ARMS: Argent a Cross engrailed Sable over all a Bugle Horn ensigned with an Ancient Crown Or on a Chief Vert four Axeheads bendwise Argent.

CREST: On a Wreath Argent and Gules upon a Mount Vert in front of a Castle of three Towers each domed and ensigned with a Cross Crosslet all Gules a Stag courant proper.

SUPPORTERS: On either side a Stag guardant proper holding in the mouth a Seax Argent the hilt and pommel inwards Or.

BADGE: A Stag’s Head caboshed proper holding in the mouth a Seax Argent the hilt and pommel to the dexter Or.

Motto ‘PER CRUCEM PER CORONAM’
Through the Cross through the Crown.
Granted 31st December 1975.

The Epping Forest District was formed by the amalgamation of the Chigwell Urban District, the Epping Urban District, the Waltham Holy Cross Urban District and the Epping and Ongar Rural District except for the five parishes now in the Brentwood District.

As we prepare to celebrate the Queen’s Golden Jubilee this year, let us look back at the only other Queen’s Golden Jubilee in British history, from the handwritten parish records of Stapleford Tawney [Essex Record Office D/P 141/8/4].

1887
“On Saturday June 18th a Service was held at Stapleford Tawney Church for that and Theydon Mount parishes in commemoration of the Jubilee of the Reign of Her Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria. The special service¹ was used and a sermon preached by the Rector². The lesson was read by Sir Charles Cunliffe-Smith Bt³, nearly all the parishioners being present. [This part of the sentence was vigorously underlined] Church crowded. Medals were presented to all the parishioners in the Churchyard and an adjournment made to Church Mead⁴ where a band enlivened the proceedings. A substantial meal was served in the Hoppet⁴. Sports, swings, donkies [sic], fire [or fine?] balloons etc. Beer, tobacco and ginger beer, a lovely warm afternoon.

Over the entrances to the Mead and Hoppet, arches with inscriptions and a number of large flags had been placed. About 40£⁵ was expended including presents to those who were absent through infirmity.”

NOTES
¹The special service was used: Evidently the Church of England had created a service specifically for Jubilee commemorations.

²The Rector: This was Rector Lewis Prance, who served from 1872 until his death in 1912. As a member of the Royal Horticultural Society, he was fascinated by plants and flowers, as indeed were the whole Prance family. They planted the blue anemones by the church path and probably the winter aconites and snowdrops, and there are many unusual and foreign plants in the Tawney Rectory garden. The Rector’s grandson Professor Ghillean Prance was an Amazonian jungle explorer and became Director of Kew Gardens in 1988.

³Sir Charles Cunliffe-Smith: He lived at Suttons Manor (now a private clinic) and was churchwarden and chief benefactor of the church. He was also quite autocratic, as were most of his class at the time. The Suttons estate spread into several parishes, and included the blacksmith’s at Cutlers Forge, the mill at Passingford Bridge, the village shop and the Talbot Inn, both near the bridge on the main road. On summer evenings, the local working men would sit in the distinctive wide porch of the Talbot, supping their ale. One day, it is said, Lady Cunliffe-Smith went past in her carriage and overheard a coarse remark. She reported it to Sir Charles, who immediately had the inn shut down, never to re-open, and it has been a private house ever since.

⁴Church Mead and the Hoppet: The area between Great Tawney Hall and the church was until the 1970s a moated site, where the old Stapleford Tawney Hall once stood. This was demolished in 1764 and replaced by the present farmhouse. The moat gradually dried up and became a wide shallow ditch. The eastern arm of the moat, with the area of grass next to the road, was known as Church Mead (Plot 131 on the 1873 Ordnance Survey map). The rest of the site (Plot 130) was the Hoppet - an Essex word for a small field or paddock, which is still its name today.

⁵40£: Does anybody know how much in 1887 £40 would be worth today?

[EDITOR - The answer is £2541.92]

Plans are currently being made for the 2002 Stapleford Tawney and Theydon Mount Jubilee celebrations on June 1st. They include - guess what? Sports, balloons, pony rides (rather than donkeys), flags, medals, a substantial meal, beer and a band to enliven the proceedings. Let’s hope for the ‘lovely warm afternoon’ of June 1887.

In 1623 the manor of Stanford Rivers was sold to William 3rd Baron Petre. He settled the estate on his second surviving son, William Petre, who occupied the manor house known as Bellowes or Bell House. Though the house was demolished in the early 1800s, its elevated site - mid way between the original Stanford Rivers rectory and Murrells Farm - is still obvious today from the large amounts of brick, tile and slate in the plough soil, as well as from a scattering of mature trees on what had been the garden (lime, London plane, horse chestnut and a massive sycamore). William’s son, grandson, great grandson and great great grandson inherited the estate in due course, but after the last male heir died in 1762 it reverted to Robert 9th Baron Petre, the builder of new Thorndon Hall near Brentwood.

One constant feature of the Petre family was their adherence to the Roman Catholic faith. The Stanford Rivers branch were no exception and were presented at intervals through the seventeenth century in the archdeacon’s court for recusancy. They shared their faith with two near neighbours -the Wrights at Kelvedon Hall, and the Waldegraves at Navestock Hall. It is possible that a symbolic gesture of alliance was established with the latter family in the form of a spectacular piece of landscape gardening.

The Waldegraves built a new mansion at Navestock in the late seventeenth or early eighteenth century, on higher ground than the old manor house which still stands near the church. The surrounding land to the west and north was laid out as a park, the most spectacular feature of which was an avenue of trees, nearly two miles in length, running from the new hall to the Stanford Rivers road just south of the Woodman PH. Grand axial vistas like this became unfashionable later in the eighteenth century and it had disappeared by the time Chapman and Andre made their map in 1777.

However, what the Chapman and Andre map does show is that there was another avenue running from Bell House to a similar or identical point on the other side of the Stanford Rivers road, just south of the Woodman. This too has now vanished, presumably cleared when Bell House was demolished and the area reverted to farmland. No map has been found which shows both avenues in existence, and it is not possible to be sure from visiting the site today whether they did exactly line up. Even if they did not, it would have been a very near miss and the combined avenue would have dominated the view from both houses.

There is no way of telling which avenue was planted first, though it is more likely that the Waldegraves pioneered it when laying out their park. The Petre addition (if this was the order of things) would have misled the uninformed visitor into thinking that the Bell House estate was considerably larger than it really was! But could this avenue have had a symbolic meaning as well, by linking two recusant families at a time when being a Roman Catholic was difficult and dangerous, and excluded its adherents from public office? If this was so, the avenues must have been planted before 1719 when the Waldegraves became protestant. Even if no religious symbolism was intended, it was still highly unusual for one landowner to extend the line of another’s avenue.

To be sidetracked in the Essex Record Office is so easy. Attention can wander. Mine wandered . . . wandered to an unrelated article, A Deodand in the Hundred of Ongar. What is a deodand . . . and in the Hundred of Ongar? And so one thing led to another . . .

The principle of the deodand concerned chattels. In medieval law, it is necessary to distinguish between ‘movables’ or personal property and ‘immovables’ or ‘real property’. Common law, which relates to personal property, is separate from the law relating to real property. The term that has arisen to represent personal property is ‘chattels’. Chattel comes from the French chattel (plural chateux). Our word, cattle, in use only from the 17C, comes from the same word. The legal chattel included all movable property. ‘Goods’ became the term applied to tangible chattels. However, not all chattels are tangible; there are also chattels real, such as certain rights granted for a term of years.

The principle required the forfeiture to the King of any object, which was involved in a person’s death. The deodand was called the bane, or slayer. The King was then required to ensure that an almoner devote the object¹ to ‘pious uses’. Chattels could be seized in such circumstances. In theory, the deodand was intended to be appropriated to charitable purposes for the benefit of the deceased’s family. In the 13C, the object would be delivered to the men of the town where the death occurred, whereupon they had to answer for it to royal officers. The deodand served several purposes; the owner would have purchased his peace; the dead person’s kin could wreak their vengeance on the deodand, thereby encouraging his soul to lie in peace; a deodand might also provide a primitive form of insurance for the dead person.

There are many references to deodands within coroner’s courts². On 6 July, 1578, Mr Vernon, coroner, viewed the body of Toby Bate of Wivenhoe, a sailor. Toby had been out with others to take the mast out of a boat. In pulling, the mast fell on the head of Toby and ‘put his eyes out’. He died instantly. The mast was worth 13s 4d as a deodand, which “remained in the hands of Rich. Cooke of Wivenhoe sailor, to the Queen’s use”.

At Hatfield Broad Oak on 28 April, 1607, George Bushe, yeoman, committed suicide. The jurors said Bushe, with “a hempen halter worth 1d, which he “did tie about a brac”, parcel of his barn, and the other hand about his neck. The halter then “did ruckdowne” and hanged him. His goods and chattels were worth £334 6s 2d which Lord Riche claimed as deodand.

On 21st October, 1586, the coroner presided over the body of William Godwaerd, a Brightlingsea butcher. A gun lay in the house of Austen Jones, a yeoman. The gun was loaded with “hayleshot”. Austen’s finger touched the ‘vice’ and William Godwaerd, while eating, was struck a mortal wound in the headband. The gun, value 13s 4d, became the deodand.

At Blackmore, on 12 August, 1577, Agnes Tynge, aged 10, sadly, was playing on the green before her father’s house. Agnes tied a halter (cafrist?) to the spokes of the wheel of a cart laden with coal (charcole). The halter dislodged the spokes from the wheel and the cart and its contents fell upon the back of Agnes, killing her instantly. The cart and contents were deemed to be worth 30s and were forfeit to the Queen as deodand.

The responsibility of the deodand was not always accepted. In Witham, following a coroner’s inquest into a suicide a deodand of fifteen shillings was levied against the inhabitants of Witham³. The original records give details of the escalating costs demanded of the inhabitants of Witham as a result of their failure to answer. The full details of the escalating cost are preserved. The proceedings continued for six years, between 1666 and 1672.

By the 19C, records show that the deodand resulting from a road accident would now be just the wheel of the wagon, rather than the wheel, cart and contents. The purpose and charitable uses of the deodand appear to have been lost. The deodand simply passed to the local owner of the rights to the deodand.

So what happened in the Hundred of Ongar? In 1734, John Wright of Waltham Abbey was riding home, when his horse threw him to his death. Following an inquest, the horse was declared a deodand. A Mr Harvey seized it. Mr Smart, the then Lord of the Manor of Theydon Bois challenged the possession of Mr Harvey. Counsel’s opinion was taken and a search to establish the legality of the two claims was initiated. The claim of Mr Harvey originated in the letters patent of Henry VIII, while the claim of Mr Smart went back to the grant of the lordship of the manor by Edward IV. The decision came down in favour of Mr Harvey’s claim though the claim was stated to be obscure. During the course of the dispute, the article¹ concludes “no doubt feeling ran high, and the harmony of country-side life was disturbed”.

The English law of deodands was repealed in 1846. Why? The new possibility that one could be fatally injured in a railway accident had raised the stakes considerably!

Charming Local History Committee, genuine, desperately seek Lady or Gent, age 16 to 100, High Country based, for companionship at local history activities, to manage finance for small group, no previous experience necessary, GSOH an advantage, no late evenings, no Euros involved (yet!), no polo in Home Counties either, sorry!

The Bell House estate was owned and occupied by a branch of the Petre family for much of the 17th and 18th centuries. An account book in the Essex Record Office reveals a little of part of its history, as well as the extent of the estate in the first half of the 18th century. It is clear that, by 1738, the property was seriously encumbered by debts run up by William Petre. The annual income from rents amounted to just over £1061. However, bonds and mortgages, secured on the estate, amounted to £4500, and Petre also had personal debts amounting to about £1750, including unpaid bills to a periwig maker, a coal merchant and a wine merchant. These difficulties were overcome by the 8th Baron Petre, of Thorndon Hall, taking over the administration of the estate. William Petre was to be paid £350 pa tax free, and the rest of the income was devoted to paying off debts, and the interest on the mortgages and bonds, as well as the outstanding capital repayments. All the details are clearly laid out in the account book, and all debts were cleared within six years - quite an achievement!

The main interest, however, is the list of farms and properties comprising the estate, though unfortunately only the annual rent, rather the acreage, of each is listed. Those with a good knowledge of the parish may be able to identify some of the more obscure names, including the rather sinisterly named “Creepers Lane”. The properties listed (in their original spelling) are:
Bellhouse Farm: rental £100
Merrills Farm: rental £156
Teraceys Farm: rental £156
Barwick Farm: rental £150
Stanford Hall Farm: rental £160
Herdhouse Farm: rental £130
Wallers farm: rental £45
Hollingford Farm: rental £43
Godsafe Cottage: rental £5
Thorogood Cottage: rental £5
Ramseys Cottage; rental £2-15s
Gibbs Cottage; rental £2
Green Cottage; rental £1-16s
Cottage adjoining; rental 18s
Groves windmill: rental 10s
Jones Wassh: rental 10s 6d
Part of Creepers Lane; rental 7s 6d

Herdhouse, Wallers and Hollingford farms seem to have disappeared (small farms - judging by their rental - which were presumably amalgamated subsequently with larger neighbours). “Groves windmill” was perhaps the one that stood on the south side of the chase leading to Littlebury Hall, as the Toot Hill mill was not built until the 19th century. Any guesses on the whereabouts of Creepers Lane?

[Editor: Epping Road, Toot Hill, near Does Farm was known locally as ‘Creepers Hill’]

Have you ever wondered what the difference is between a Rector and a Vicar? Well.....

A Rector was originally the incumbent of a parish who received all the tithes and customary offerings and dues. He was responsible for the upkeep of the chancel and rectory, and for the provision of vestments and service books. When an ecclesiastical body, such as a monastery, annexed a benefice it became nominally the rector and appointed a deputy called a Vicar (from the Latin vicarius - meaning ‘substitute’ or ‘deputy’) to administer the parish. However the Great Tithes went to the monastery as Rector, and the Small Tithes to the Vicar. After the reformation many monastic estates fell into lay hands and subsequently Lay Rectors became common; they had the right to nominate the vicar but had to seek the bishop’s approval. They also inherited the obligation to keep up the chancel and vicarage.

Tithes were virtually abolished in 1936 and a Vicar is now appointed to all new livings. The designation Rector now being applicable to the incumbent of a new joint benefice or united parish, or on the creation of a team ministry, even where none of the constituent parishes had a Rector in the immediate past.

And..... A Parson was originally a Rector, though the term is now applied also to a Vicar. Before the seventeenth century a Curate was any minister who had the cure of souls, especially a deputy who was in full charge of a parish, but could be removed by his employer. Since then the term has come to mean an assistant to an incumbent or an unbeneficed clergyman. A Perpetual Curate was the minister of a parish in which the Great Tithes had been annexed by an ecclesiastical body or lay person.

Now that’s cleared that up - I think!