Folklore of Essex

by Sylvia Kent

  Bells

  The subject of Essex bells conjures up many superstitions and legends. Bells have called people to prayer since the seventh century. William Addison, in his book Essex Heyday, states that during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, there was a tradition of ringing the village church bells on the morning of her birthday, 7 September. They were also rung when the lord of the manor returned from service overseas, and even when he returned from the assizes at Chelmsford.

  Essex churchwardens’ account books are full of references to money left in wills to be paid to the bell-ringers for beer. Sometimes genial parishioners provided doles and payment for bell-ringing in their wills. The Revd Montagu Benton records such a bequest made by a Saffron Walden mercer, Thomas Turner, in his will dated 10 June 1623. Twenty shillings annually were left for a memorial sermon on the anniversary of his burial, thirty-three shillings and fourpence to the bell-ringers and six shillings and eightpence to the parish clerk for preparing the bells for ringing.

  All Saints church at Maldon initially housed a trio of bells. In 1699, they were replaced by six, although two more were added in 1922. The inscription on the old bells declares:

  When first this steeple three did hold

  They were the emblems of a scold

  No music then, but now shall see

  What pleasant music six shall be?

  At Danbury, there is a well-known enduring legend concerning the Devil, who paid a visit to St John the Baptist church, high on the hill. The Devil stole the fifth bell from the belfry. This was the bell tolled to mark the passing of a soul. When the parishioners discovered the theft, they set up a ‘hue and cry’ and chased in hot pursuit of Old Nick, who promptly dropped the bell, whereupon it rolled down to a place still known as Bell Hill Wood. Legend tells us that when the fifth bell was replaced, the vicar could find no local bell-ringer brave enough to ring it, in case the chime summoned the Devil to make a return visit.

  An unusual tradition is carried out at the beautiful church of Great Bromley, where the hat of the captain of the bell-ringers is dated and hung beneath the tower in the belfry on his death. No one knows when this ritual began but one of the hats is dated 1716.

  Timekeeping

  The old town hall, church and village clocks seem to tick on, taking life in their stride. As centuries slipped by, the old hand-forged timepieces were replaced with more modern mechanisms. We can, however, still see some beautiful examples of the county’s clocks at Tymperleys Clock Museum in Colchester, which has some of the finest collections from the seventeenth, eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.

  At Little Burstead’s Stockwell Hall, once a moated farmhouse and later the Essex seat of the Earls of Mexborough, there is an eighteenth-century bellcote and, below the gable, a large clock face with a single hand and figures said to be made of blackened bones. At Ingatestone Hall, a lovely eighteenth-century, blue enamelled, one-handed clock can be seen. It bears the motto ‘Sans Dieu Rien’ (‘Without God, nothing’).

  Little Burstead’s Stockwell Hall, with its clock figures of blackened bones.

  Ingatestone Hall, with its one-handed clock.

  One of the county’s oldest clocks can be found built into the south tower of the parish church of St Leonard-at-the-Hythe. The clock face of stone dates back to 1500 and its circular dial has radiating figures and carved spandrels. Mavis Sipple, in her book Extraordinary Essex, writes:

  Before the days of clocks and watches, one simple way to record the passing of time was by using an hourglass. Similar to a giant egg timer they were often found in churches, resting in a wrought iron stand fixed near the pulpit. The hourglass would help the preacher gauge the length of his sermon. When the sand ran out, he knew he had been preaching for an hour and would often up-end the glass and start again. A preacher would be known as a two-hour or a three-hour man or even a six-hour man. Most of these hourglasses have become broken or lost, but occasionally the wrought iron stand can be found near the pulpit.

  There are now just a few of these hourglasses to be seen around Essex. One ancient hourglass was cherished at the church of St Edmund at Abbess Roding until it was stolen during the 1990s. All that remains is the wrought-iron stand.

  Colchester’s Water Tower

  Colchester folk named their newly-built water tower Jumbo when it was opened on 27 September 1883. Jumbo was the 6½-ton African elephant who, with his mate Alice, was one of the most popular animals living at London Zoo in the nineteenth century. When Phineas Taylor Barnum, the American manager of ‘The Greatest Show on Earth’ bought Jumbo for his circus, there was a huge public outcry from thousands of English elephant-fanciers, including Queen Victoria, and many telegrams were sent to Barnum by the editor of the Morning Post enquiring on what terms he would return Jumbo. Barnum replied that with 50 million Americans awaiting his arrival, £100,000 could not stop the purchase. Protest songs were composed, to no avail. Jumbo became Barnum’s chief attraction and when he died he was stuffed and exhibited in the Barnum Museum of Natural History in the US. Colchester’s Jumbo still stands but plans are afoot to convert it to living accommodation.

  The Jumbo water tower at Colchester.

  Romany Burial

  It was once against Romany tradition to be buried in a churchyard although there are Romany burial grounds at Strethall in Essex, which were used by the Dymock, Gray and Shaw families. Some Romany families preferred to bury their dead at the place where they died, close to a hedge or wall – hence the East Anglian expression ‘lying by the wall’ to describe someone who is dead. A century ago, the custom was to burn the gypsy’s caravan (vardo) when the man of the family died. Their treasured crockery was strewn at the place where they were buried. Often a thorn bush was planted on the grave, as a marker and spirit plant.

  Doors and Devils

  Essex has many strange legends concerning church doors. At St Mary’s church in Runwell, near Wickford, there is a burnt-in impression of a great clawlike hand on the inside of the south door, which is said to be the hand mark of the Devil. The story tells of Rainaldus, the parish curate, who was conducting a service when the Devil made a grab for him. The terrified curate escaped through the south door while the Devil, unable to pass through the sanctified portals, angrily burned his mark into the old oak door. The congregation dispersed and came back later but their curate had disappeared. On the spot where he had been standing was a puddle of green liquid, which was bubbling by the south porch. In this pool lay a small stone resembling a human head. Later, this was mounted on the south wall near where Rainaldus held that last Mass. It bears the Latin inscription ‘Stipendia peccatimors’ (The wages of sin is death). Next time you attend a baptism service, look around the church and note how the north door is, where possible, left open. This is so that, at the words ‘renounce the devil and all his works’, Satan can leave unhindered.

  A gypsy vardo.

  Several myths surround the small Saxon church of St Botolph’s at Hadstock, seven miles north of Saffron Walden. The church has the oldest door in regular use in Britain. The legend revolves around St Botolph, who began a small monastery in the kingdom of East Anglia. He is believed to be buried in the church grounds. In 1144, the monks of Ely referred to Hadstock as ‘that place sanctified to religion in days of old by the Holy Botolph, there at rest’.

  Although cattle hide was often placed between the church door and the hinges to protect the wood, when the door of St Botolph’s church was removed for repair, the skin beneath the hinge was found to be human. As flailing was a punishment at the time, the skin might possibly be that of a Dane caught plundering the church.

  Fire

  Once commonplace on many buildings, firemarks can still be found on the front of some houses in Essex. Many people believe that the Great Fire of London in 1666 laid the foundations for organised firefighting. Wooden houses gave way to brick buildings and owners began to insure them against fire. Insurance companies realised their losses would be limited if they employed men t
o put out fires in the buildings for which they provided cover. The buildings were identified by lead or copper badges or ‘firemarks’, which showed which company insured them. The Essex Equitable Insurance Society was founded in Colchester in 1802 and was one of the first to equip its volunteer firemen with uniforms and a firecart. Later, steam engines were introduced.

  An early fire brigade was started in Brentwood in 1886. James Fair and a few other part-time men were the first officers. James continued for fifty years, becoming the longest-serving fireman in Britain. When a fire was reported, James would summon his officers using his bugle, and they would round up any spare horses to pull the firecart. During his time, James served under six fire chiefs and is thought to have attended hundreds of fires in this once small agricultural town.

  Just around the time James Fair was born, the chaplain of Brentwood, the Revd Francis Rhodes, narrowly escaped death in a blaze that had broken out in the High Road bakery. Bravely he leapt on to the roof to try to stop the fire from spreading to adjoining buildings. Five years later, his son Cecil was born. Had Francis perished in the fire, the history of Africa and the British Empire could have been very different.

  A firemark.

  James Fair (standing at the front on the right), a Brentwood fireman who was fifty years in service.

  James Fair (standing at the front on the far right) with his team outside the fire station, 1910.

  Curious Bones

  Whalebone Lane in Dagenham is believed to derive its name from the famous pair of whalebones which once stood at the entrance to the old Whalebone House in Chadwell Heath. The house was demolished after being bombed during the Second World War and the bones – which were believed to be rib bones from a whale that had been stranded in the Thames in 1658 (the year of Oliver Cromwell’s death) – were mounted on either side of the Barking and Dagenham Museum at Valence House. When the museum was renovated during the 1980s, the whalebones were taken down and are now stored in the cellar.

  Nine Men’s Morris

  Tangible traces of leisure activities through the ages are generally both rare and diverse. An ancient carving of a board for playing the ancient game of Nine Men’s Morris can be found on the windowsill of St John the Baptist church at Finchingfield. The board is made up of three concentric squares and is known to have been played by two people with nine counters each. The object was to get three counters in a row and to capture all opposing pieces. The game has been carved in other places around the world, including the deck of a Viking ship in Norway, the steps of the Acropolis in Athens and on a Roman tile dug up in Silchester. Shakespeare wrote in A Midsummer Night’s Dream:

  Nine Men’s Morris at Finchingfield.

  The Nine Mens Morris is fill’d up with mud

  And the quaint mazes in the wanton green

  For lack of tread are indistinguishable.

  Dene Holes

  Over the centuries, many strange stories have evolved around the collection of deep holes sunk into the chalky ground of Hangman’s Wood at East Thurrock. These circular pits are known as Dene Holes and go down at least 50ft. Tunnels that are about 20ft long are linked to the shafts. Some experts have said they are merely chalk quarries from Celtic times. Some people firmly believe they were hiding places for villagers from the time of the Danish raids on Thurrock; others feel they were used merely as grain storage places. They may have been there for 1,000 years – the mystery has never been solved.

  HMS Beagle

  During its five-year scientific expedition from 1831 to 1836, the Admiralty research vessel HMS Beagle was home to the eminent naturalist Charles Darwin. The ship was launched in 1820 at Woolwich Royal Dockyard. Under the command of Captain Robert Fitzroy, Darwin and his assistants sailed around the world, researching the fauna, flora and geology of many countries. This equipped Darwin for his later investigations, which were condensed within his great work, The Origin of the Species, published in 1859.

  Following the expedition, HMS Beagle was of no further use to the Admiralty. It was taken over by the coastguard and became a watch vessel with permanent moorings on the river Roach near Paglesham. The crew was deployed to prevent smuggling, which was rife in this part of the Essex coast. In 1870, the decision came to break up the Beagle for scrap but first the useful timbers, with their distinctive carpenter markings, were recovered and used in the construction of local barns and houses. Today, the occupants of those riverside buildings are probably unaware of the part their house timbers played in British history. Meanwhile, remains of the Beagle, including its giant anchor, have recently been discovered at Potton Island, the former home of the Atomic Weapons Research Establishment, which lies opposite Paglesham. It is hoped that a memorial stone will be commissioned to mark the spot.

  Underground

  A rural bungalow nestling in the Kelvedon Hatch countryside, just twenty miles from Westminster, covered a very big secret when the site was acquired by the Government in the early 1950s during the Cold War with the Soviet Union. Myths and suppositions were rife and the local people, although not knowing exactly what it was, nicknamed it the Hole in the Ground. The 100ft-deep bunker contained rooms for up to 600 ‘key personnel’, a BBC studio, dormitories, electricity generators and its own water supply, all within 21,000 square feet. At first it served as an operations centre for Fighter Command then, from the 1960s, as the emergency seat of national government in the event of a nuclear war. Thankfully the bunker – like many of the defences of past centuries – was never used in anger and it has, for the past decade, become a tourist attraction.

  Emerging Essex Customs

  When does custom become folklore? Traditional life and death and the living in between are covered in one form or another. Many of the everyday things we say and do are linked to bygone times. Some traditions have been resurrected ostensibly for the tourist market. New forms of folklore are being created in different ways, such as tying a bunch of balloons to a gate or door to indicate the location of a children’s party, creating a wayside shrine to someone who has lost their life in a motoring accident, or attaching photographs and toys to children’s graves.

  SEVEN

  PHENOMENA

  ...like one in dread who speeds through the recesses of some haunted pile and dares not look behind.

  Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)

  From the numerous ghost books concentrated on Essex, interest seems to be increasing in matters supernatural, although there has always been a strong seam of ghostly tales. In our modern, brightly-lit county, there is a strange paradox in our thinking about phantoms: we deny their existence and at the same time we are afraid of them. Even people who have seen or heard something for which there is apparently no natural explanation sometimes continue to remain unconvinced about the world of the ghosts.

  There is no need to look hard for spirits in Essex; the place is so full of echoes of the past that the stories come up in normal conversation. Local folklore abounds with references to legendary black dogs, grey and white ladies, benevolent kindly spirits, unexplained phenomena, poltergeists and, in some cases, fairly grim and malevolent monk manifestations. Darren Mann, a ghost sleuth who manages the Paranormal Database and has investigated much of the occult activity and poltergeist tales that have come his way, reckons Essex to be one of the most haunted counties in England.

  There appears to be a widespread notion that the dead can reveal their presence to the living and that some people are better than others at perceiving them. So, many of the folk tales are connected with churches and graveyards in the county.

  Borley Rectory

  The village of Borley on the Essex/Suffolk border became famous almost overnight in the late 1920s, when Borley Rectory was described as ‘the most haunted house in England’. It has inspired more books to be written about psychical research than any other place in the world.

  Borley Rectory in 1929.

  Borley Rectory was built by the Reverend Henry Dawson Ellis Bull in 1863, on the site
of an ancient house. Soon after Henry moved in, he and his family felt that they were not alone. Some of his fourteen children became nervous when a woman dressed in a nun’s habit was seen peering through the dining room window. Henry promptly had the window bricked up but there were many such incidents recorded in his diaries. Whispers were heard around the house, accompanied by footsteps and tappings, and one of Henry’s daughters was woken up one night by a slap on her face, although there was no one in the room. Several people reported seeing a strange woman walking along the path, which was later named Nun’s Walk, and others had seen a tall dark man in the grounds, who promptly disappeared when he was spoken to.

  In 1892, Henry died and the house passed to his son Harry. Within weeks, Henry’s ghost was seen at the rectory. Servants’ bells often rang when no member of the family had pulled the bell cord. The most persistent feature were the strange heavy footsteps which always seemed to occur at times when there was no one in those parts of the house from which the sounds appeared to come. Harry developed a keen interest in the afterlife and promised jokingly that he would try to make contact after his death. He planned to throw mothballs about ‘so that you will know it is me’, but there are no accounts of Harry’s return in any form.

  The next incumbent was the Revd Eric Smith, who took up residence with his wife Mabel in October 1928. Mrs Smith was worried about the continuing curious incidents that were taking place at Borley and contacted the Daily Mirror, who printed a sensational article which brought the psychic investigator Harry Price to the village. During Price’s investigations, mysterious footsteps, whispering and the ringing of bells were regularly heard, accompanied by what he called ‘poltergeist activity’. Vases were smashed as they dropped to the floor and candlesticks hurled themselves down the stairs. Keys shot out of their locks in the doors. This was too much for the Smiths and they left Borley in April 1930.