It was an unexpected surprise to walk into a field on the Stansted Stagger and see the remains of a former Cistercian abbey.
To be fair, there isn’t much of this abbey left, but at least there’s something. The bits that remain here are two fragments of the west range of the abbey. I would have explored them more thoroughly but I didn’t want to faff about looking at bits of old stone when I was meant to be on a 26 mile walk. Although I did think about it.
The abbey was founded in 1153 having been established by Maurice fitz Geoffrey and his overlord, Robert de Ferrers, who was the Earl of Derby. The first monks to populate the abbey came from Warden Abbey in Bedfordshire.
The abbey was situated on a tributary of the River Chelmer in north-west Essex and its dedication is believed to have taken place on 22 September 1153, which corresponds with St Maurice’s feast day, chosen in honour of the founder. While founded in the middle of the 12th century, the construction of the entire monastery complex is often credited to the second abbot, Simon, who served from approximately 1188 to 1214.
The site experienced significant hardship on Christmas Day 1215 when it was pillaged by the army of King John. Soldiers reportedly broke into the church during mass, ransacking chests and carrying off valuables, an event that required the monks to spend the next five years reconstructing the church. It’s fair to say that they probably considered this as completely sub-optimal.
The abbey functioned as a Cistercian community until its dissolution on 28 February 1536 under the religious reforms of King Henry VIII. Today, very little of the original monastic buildings remain, except for some stone wall fragments in the above photo and the chapel by the gate. This chapel, known as the capella extra portas, was built around 1220 for the use of visitors and now serves as the Tilty parish church, but a little more about that in the next post.
This is a rather lovely touch of history in the hamlet of Hellmans Cross, near to the village of Great Canfield. It’s the remains of the peace tree that was planted in 1919 to mark those who lost their lives in the First World War.
The local village website notes:
“The young oak came from the estate of the Revd. Maryon Wilson, rector and squire of Great Canfield. The rector with the help of some seven other residents of the parish planted the tree. After the planting and to replenish their exhausted strength, the rector produced “a bottle” from which all involved assuaged their thirst. When the bottle was empty the rector suggested that all present should write down their names on a piece of paper and place it in the bottle. This was done and the rector asked Mr. Dudley Smith to bury the bottle in the roots of the tree, which he did.
The names of those present at the planting included the Revd. Maryon Wilson, William Smith, Dudley Smith, Bill Barwick, Tom Yeoman and Will Easter.”
Unfortunately, they had to cut the tree down in 2011 due to a fungus infection, but they planted the Jubilee Tree in 2012 to replace it.
It’s a little hard to read on the plastic protective screen, but the village used this opportunity to commemorate the lives of the local men who died during the conflict. They were:
One of the interesting parts of the Stansted Stagger challenge walk (a separate post is coming on that) was this former railway line from Braintree to Bishop’s Stortford. It always struggled and was closed in 1952 as the area around it was too rural to justify a service. Now, there’s a slight irony that around 500 metres to the right of this photo is Stansted Airport and this railway line would have been potentially enormously useful for that.
This is the site of Stane Street Halt railway station, which was added to the line in December 1922 in an attempt to boost passengers numbers. A full station couldn’t be justified here as the population was too small, but they hoped to encourage some of the Takeley residents to use it. The station was named after the nearby Stane Street Roman Road which went from Ermine Street in Hertfordshire to Colchester in Essex.
The introduction of these halts, which were by request only, meant that they had to change the rolling stock to allow passengers to disembark without a platform to disembark onto. Although all rather positive in terms of trying to increase usage, the line was closed to passengers in March 1952. It continued to be used by freight services until 1972 and then it was all ripped up and all evident of the halt removed.
There were services to Northumberland Park, where Tottenham Hotspur’s White Hart Lane football stadium was located, directly from the halt which showed some initiative in getting people straight into London. The Westminster Gazette made reference to it in 1926 noting:
“It is not more than 30 miles from London, and it has a railway station – if such a name can be applied to Stane Street Halt, whose only evidence of being a station is a little platform barely ten years long.”
The Friends of the Flitch Way helped to restore the station halt back in 2011. They also added a useful information board which gives some more details about the history of the halt, which is a really helpful thing to add.
This is certainly a rather lovely place to have a memorial tablet and it commemorates the life of Thomas Tawell (1763-1820). Tawell was born in Wymondham in 1763 and he was born into a wealthy family, although his father died when he was just ten. He went to work for his uncle, a Norwich ironmonger, and Thomas managed to build up quite a wealth for himself.
Perhaps now best known for his generosity, his turn toward charity was rooted in his own experience with sight loss. While he was a successful merchant buying and selling his iron, he became blind, a condition that lasted for several years before he partially recovered his sight. This ordeal inspired him to help those who did not have the means to support themselves in a similar situation.
In January 1805, Tawell spoke at a public meeting at the Norwich Guildhall to propose an institution for the blind. To ensure the project moved forward, he took direct action by purchasing a large house and three and a half acres of land in Magdalen Street for the cause. He also donated 1,000 guineas, which is estimated to be worth approximately £86,000 in modern terms. He was particularly adamant that the institution should not just educate the young but also care for the elderly, a requirement he made a central part of the charity’s rules.
The building on Magdalen Street was known as the Asylum and School for the Indigent Blind (I didn’t know what ‘indigent’ meant, but it’s someone who is poor and/or needy). That building has since been demolished, but the organisation lives on, later called the Norfolk and Norwich Association for the Blind and, since 2020, now the more snappy ‘Vision Norfolk’.
The text reads:
“To the Memory of THOMAS TAWELL, Esquire, late an INHABITANT of the Precinct of this Cathedral who died the fourth of June 1820, Aged 57 Years.
In the Year 1805, He purchased a spacious dwelling House, with extensive Garden Ground in St. Paul’s in this City; and settled them by legal Instruments for a perpetual Hospital and School for INDIGENT BLIND PERSONS.
This munificent Gift aided by the Patronage of other benevolent Characters hath secured an Asylum for the pitiable Objects of his Bounty; whose melancholy Situation he could but too well estimate, having himself passed many Years deprived of the Blessing of Sight.
Whilst acutely feeling for the Afflictions of others he sustained his own with Resignation and Cheerfulness.”
He sounds a really quite positive man by all accounts. Incidentally, I’m very impressed at this art collection which was sold off a couple of months following his death, the auction catalogue notes:
“ALL the valuable PICTURES, Prints, Coins, and curious Articles, of THOMAS TAWELL, Esq. deceased, at his late Dwelling-house, in the Upper Close, Norwich; comprising some fine specimens of the old Masters, Ostade, M. A. Carraveggio, Wyke, Zuccorelli, Frank Hall, Old Frank, Teniers, Rysdael, &c. &c. proofs and fine impressions from Bartolozzi, Vasseau, Wille, Earlom, Sharpe, Edelinck, Woollet, &c. Cupid in Psyche, Bacchus and Ariadne, Venus in statuary marble—Italian workmanship, very fine; a large collection of gold, silver, and copper coins, Roman urns, and a variety of curious antique articles.
In the Books will be found Jeremy Taylor’s Works, Shakspeare’s in folio, Mant’s Bible, Josephus, Clarendon’s Rebellion, Statutes at Large, Robertson’s Charles, America and Scotland, Hume’s England, Burke’s Works, Annual Register, 62 vols. Blackstone’s Commentary, Hook’s Roman History, &c. &c.”
Owning a Caravaggio is really quite exciting. Although if I owned one, I’d be stressed worrying someone would pinch it and I dread to think what the insurance cost would be. I’d worry about it every time I looked at it, so I think on that basis I won’t buy a very valuable old painting for several million pounds. Although there’s another limiting factor within that last sentence, but I digress.
At least this memorial is of a man who made a great contribution to the people of Norwich, and not a tomb to a bishop that oversaw the execution of people who had a slightly different belief to him.
The next pub on our study day tour in Oulton Broad was the Lady of the Lake. Apologies for the slightly blurry photos, I’m blaming the Monster Munch in the previous pub.
An interesting marketing opportunity inside the front door. The venue first opened in the 1840s and is now managed by the small LEC pubs chain.
There’s a large dining area and I think that the venue is quite food led and the prices aren’t unreasonable. It was quiet when we were there, just one other table with drinks.
The bar is bright and open with a few stools for those that want to perch by it. There was a prompt welcome and they had two real ales on, with the prices being reasonable.
I ordered half a Ghost Ship from Adnams and I only noticed when back at the table, but it smelled slightly vinegary and had a sharp off taste. It might have been the end of a barrel, maybe just lingering in the lines for a while, but these things happen. I’m not entirely sure that the team member looked keen to replace it, and indeed they left the beer on sale, but they did replace it without any query so that was positive.
The replacement was Wainwrights Golden Ale, with quite a lot of bubbles sticking to the side of the glass, but it was well kept and had its usual hoppy taste. Julian had also gone for this and was entirely satisfied with his, so that was all good.
There’s live music every Saturday night and a variety of other events held here, with the venue seemingly getting positive reviews online. I like that their website specifically mentioned that it’s fully wheelchair accessible, as although venues often are, it’s positive that this is something that’s made clear.
This is a rather nice memorial, commemorating the life of William Inglott (1554–1621), a celebrated organist and composer at Norwich Cathedral during the Elizabethan and Jacobean eras. This image shows the memorial to William Inglott (1554–1621), a celebrated organist and composer at Norwich Cathedral during the Elizabethan and Jacobean eras. The monument is a painted mural located on a pillar near the presbytery screen with the obligatory skull located on the memorial to note the inevitability of death.
William Inglott was the son of Edmund Inglott, who was also an organist at the cathedral. William began his musical journey as a chorister under his father before eventually becoming the cathedral organist himself from 1587 to 1591. After a period working at Hereford Cathedral, he returned to Norwich in 1611 to replace the famous composer Thomas Morley.
He died on the last day of December 1621 and they had painted this within six months. This feels like a nice memorial and it’s still in excellent condition today, although the face of one of the two choristers seems to be blurred out. Maybe he wanted to be redacted.
I’ve had AI transcribe this, so it might not be entirely accurate….
“Here William Inglott Organist doth rest whose ARTE in musique this Cathrall blest for Descant most, for Voluntary all he past: on Organ, longe, and virginall. he left this life at AGE of fiftie yeares and now ’mongst angells, all sing laud in heaven his fame flies farr, his name shal not die See ART and AGE here crowne his memory
NON digitis Inglotte tuis terrestria tangis tangis nunc digitis organa celsa poli”
I’m not sure that I’ve been to the Waveney before, but this was the next pub on Julian and mine’s little travails around Oulton Broad. This is part of Stonegate’s Craft Union brand which has prices firmly towards the lower end of the scale.
The pub opened in the 1880s and was the section that is lit up red in the above photo, with this frontage being a later addition. More recently, it was operated by Moss & Co, who run the Commodore amongst other locations, as a sports and music bar between 2018 and 2021, before Stonegate decided to manage it themselves.
There was a very reasonably priced London Pride, so I went with that, as well as opting for some more food pairing opportunities with Flaming Hot Monster Munch. I prefer Roast Beer, but it’s good to experiment with new flavour combinations. The beer was well kept, tasted as expected and was at the appropriate temperature.
There’s a variety of seating styles from higher chairs, tables and also sofas. It’s clear that there’s been something of an investment here in terms of a large refurbishment. Everything was spotlessly clean and it also had a warm and cosy feel to the whole arrangement, it didn’t feel cold either in terms of the temperature or welcome.
It was all bright and felt welcoming.
They show live sports and there’s also a darts board to entertain customers. I’ve never seen a dart thing like this which helps players work out the two and three dart finishes.
They were putting up the Christmas decorations when we were there in early November, so there seemed to be an excitement about that whole process. The team members were friendly, warm and engaging, so once again, it felt a welcoming place to be.
I’ve come to really rather like Craft Union pubs, they seem to be thriving around the country and they’re doing that by pushing the community pub dynamic without trying to operate food sales. It seems to be working here, this was one of the pubs that I found to be the most welcoming because of the level of informality.
The second pub on our little Oulton Broad expedition was the Flying Dutchman and I have been here a few times before. Formerly known as the Flying Dutchman Hotel, it was opened at the end of the nineteenth century and as its name suggests, it offered accommodation.
Unfortunately, this is another one of those venues where the newspapers seem to just report bad things that happened nearby. In 1912, Fred Richmond who was the eight year old son of a local fisherman was playing at horses by the pub before running into the road and being hit by a car owned by Lieut. Henry Thomas Gartside-Tipping (1848-1915). He’s interesting in his own right as he came back from retirement to serve in the First World War, aged 75, but he was killed in action. His widow was also killed in 1917 when serving with the Women’s Emergency Corps.
Back to the pub though, and there’s a little snapshot of what would have been in the private accommodation at this time as the retiring landlord Joseph Balls put it all up for auction in 1923. It consisted of:
“HOUSEHOLD FURNITURE, including: Suites in Walnut and Mahogany. Sideboards, Coat, Hat and Umbrella Stand, Dining, Loo Card and other Tables, Fenders, Hearthrugs, Carpet and Linoleums. Fine Toned Trichord Check Action Iron Frame UPRIGHT PIANOFORTE in Walnut (by Schreiner). Polyphon, Gramophone, Chimney Glasses, Pictures, Grandfather Clock in oak case (chimes 5 tunes), Plated Articles, Cutlery, Feather Beds, Bolsters and Pillows, Bedsteads, Wire Spring and Wool Mattresses, Old Spanish Mahogany Wardrobe, Dressing Glasses, Commodes, Bidet, Mahogany Duchesse Dressing Tables and Marble Top Washstands, Chests of Drawers, Cupboards and Cabinets, Glass and Earthenware, Cottage Mangle, Kitchen and Culinary Articles, and Outdoor Effects.”
Back to today, it’s owned by Admiral Taverns and it seems to have a decent reputation locally for being a solidly run community pub.
The bar is bright and welcoming, although the drinks choice was a little more limited with no real ale and some generic national brands. There was though at least Guinness and I thought that I’d just go with that.
There’s my Guinness waiting for the two part pour.
Some very decent prices here, especially on Monday when pizzas are just £5 each. We already had a food plan for the evening, but this looked very tempting.
The Guinness was all as expected and I’d paired it well with some Mini Cheddars.
There was a bit of a dining vibe to the internal arrangements, but it was all clean and welcoming.
And some quizzing excitement.
I liked this pub, it’s a clearly popular community pub with numerous events, keenly priced food and an inviting environment. The idea of having affordable food which is of a decent quality to bring people in seems a really good one, with a number of events and live sports as well.
This is a bit niche, although I rarely let that stop me, but I rather liked this niche (I only realised what I’d done there when typing niche for a second time but I’m going to keep it) which is underneath the Bishop’s Throne at Norwich Cathedral.
This recess where the relics would have been piled up, with an information sign by this noting that “it was thought that the essence of these relics could rise up through the flue and give the Bishop divine aid and assistance” and that’s quite a nice thought. If you believed in the power of the relics, then this is a perfectly logical thing to do and I like that this hasn’t all been bricked up. These relics would have pulled out of here following the Reformation, so this has been empty for a long time now.
I understand that this isn’t a normal situation to have survived, not least as the Bishop’s Throne has usually been moved about the place in cathedrals. Although perhaps the ultimate place that this is replicated is the Chair of Saint Peter in St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City, where the chair is the actual relic.
I suppose that this is rather a nice place to have a tomb, right by the main pulpit so you’re not missing out on much. I don’t know, but I imagine that there was an iron cage around this, possibly stone, to make it feel a little more private.
It’s the chantry tomb of Bishop Richard Nykke (1447-1535), also known as Bishop Nix, and there would have been a fund for a priest to offer prayer and masses on their behalf, just to speed up the whole process of getting to heaven. This was inevitably just a little ridiculous, people paid a lot of money for positions such as this and the Catholic Church accepted a lot of abuses here for far too long because it was in their financial interests to do so. The Reformation came along and all this chantry tomb stuff came to an end with the Abolition of Chantries Acts.
Bishop Nykke lived through some of the Reformation and he was one of the last Catholic bishops here, although it was Bishop John Hopton (?-1558) that can claim to be the last one. Hopton, a Catholic Bishop, ordered the burning to death in Norwich of tens of Protestants because they disagreed with him. Some of the people Hopton murdered were burned at Lollards Pit, just outside the city walls, where they were walked from the Cathedral.
Back to Bishop Nykke who was present at the murder of Thomas Bilney (1495-1531) who was also executed at Lollards Pit. Nykke was found guilty by Parliament of an abuse of his powers and had property confiscated, but it’s fair to say that politics had rather taken over by then.
This whole situation is a bit unfortunate for Bishop Nykke, forced to remain in a tomb next to generations of those preaching messages which he strongly opposed. This is the slight problem when you get yourself a prime spot in a religious institution, the risk of seeing it handed over to a different denomination. But, maybe over time he’s recanted, like he tried to make the Protestants do.
Of course, I’ve used AI to try and recreate the scene of what it might have looked liked and I’d suggest this feels a very realistic mock-up.
There’s a lot of graffiti here at the side of the tomb…..
