The Bendlowe’s Bugle November 2020 People working for people Welcome…. ...to the seventh issue of our Bendlowe’s newsletter of 2020. Apologies if I called the last issue the fifth—it should have been the sixth! We have lots of articles around Remembrance this month plus some fascinating local history stories and some great reminiscences. Don’t forget to send your Christmassy ‘stuff’ in by 27 November.

UPDATES – BY: Alice Petanque Just a quick update on Petanque. Our fund raiser has got off to a good start and our calendar proudly presenting photos taken by Shalfordians is now on sale. Sorry, yes it is a little expensive at £8 but that is because at least £5 is go- ing straight to the Petanque project. Our goal is to sell at least 100. Calendars will be on sale in the Village Shop, The George Inn and Deersbrook Farm. In the meantime, for anyone wanting to play Petanque, Terry Whiting has kindly sent us the following email:- ‘We would welcome any Shalford resident that would like to try out the game of petanque (boule) to come to Wethersfield and try this very pleasant game out. We have plenty of spare boules etc they could use, plus we can offer some coach- ing, all this free of charge, and fully under Pertanque 's covid 19 guidance. Please contact by either telephone 01371850293, or email: [email protected]

Bendlowe’s Bugle I just wanted to say a few words of thank you to the many people who have contributed in various ways to the last seven months of our Newsletter. We had hoped to offer a small dis- traction by distributing the Newsletter during these Covid times but WOW it has taken off. We are now distributing just under 30 hardcopies plus a further 28 emails and a few in the Shop. We have received so many praising and uplifting comments that we are overwhelmed. My favourite being “Phew, that was a good read!” So, with this in mind, we are encouraged to try and continue distributing Bendlowe’s Bugle throughout the Covid period which is prov- ing a difficult time for all of us but especially those that are living alone. So, please please please take part and let us have your articles/stories, of your life, holidays, work, hobbies, history, photos. If you say to yourself “no-one will be interested!” You are wrong! We are interested. Help us to ensure we have enough varied and interesting articles to fill the pages to ensure it keeps going for at least the next few months until we can start up Meet & Greet again. It’s good to take part! Many, many thanks

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SHALFORD WALKERS A benefit of lockdown from Coronavirus is that we were all encouraged to go out and walk for exercise for one hour each day – socially distancing of course. So Vic and Janet Goodey, and Derrick and Marianna Marriott took to walking around our beautiful village of Shalford. We were already walking around on Friday mornings with a programme to encourage walking through Freshwell Surgery but this was temporarily curtailed due to COVID. Since most of the group travelled from Shalford, it was another reason to stay close to home and not use the car. Once restrictions were lessened we thought that perhaps others may wish to join us so Vic put up posters to see what response we would get. We advertised that we would start and finish at the George each Wednesday morning at 10am. The pub agreed that they would open earlier than normal so that we could have a coffee and perhaps an indulgent cake on our return. Slowly Shalfordians crept out of their houses and joined us. Numbers have grown each week as word has got out. Our highest number of attendees has been 13 so far so we split into groups of no more than 6. Some stragglers have been known to take a short cut if they’ve had enough. We don’t mind, we would rather people come out and enjoy each other’s company and of course our beautiful countryside. We have been fortunate that the weather has been kind to us so we have been able to sit outside the pub at the new table and chairs. We normally walk for about an hour or so. Depends if we get lost!! We are so happy that we have brought another way for our community to get together and make new friends. People are able to have some exercise and socialise at the same time. So please join us if you are free – we are a friendly bunch and no matter how fast or slow you walk there is always someone to walk with and to talk to.

Marianna Marriot

The walkers outside The George. Marianna does assure me that they do actually go walking!

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Tales from the bowling mat...

Alice has done it again, whilst chatting about the Bowls club she came up with the idea of me relating some amusing tales from our days of playing. BC (Before Covid) If I gave you suffi- cient time, you would guess what happened next. I couldn’t think of any! However, in my panic, I turned to those club members who have a better memory than me. Please give me a call and start with; “don’t you remember when?” In the meantime I can try to regale you with some of the activities that go on at our club. Friendly matches are always a good source of stories. Like the time Wendens Ambo turned up short of players. Out of the goodness of her heart, Diana volunteered to turncoat and make up the numbers. As they had only eight players in the Wendens Ambo team it meant they were obliged to play every game, without a break. We should have won easily. Unfortunately, we didn’t take ac- count of Diana’s competitive spirit and we were trounced. Wethersfield Village Hall play us twice a year in a "friendly" game of bowls. The only thing is they cheat! I realise that to accuse someone of cheating is contentious and those of you who know Lawrence will realise I am in danger of insulting an honest but more importantly a big man. Allow me time to explain myself. Carpet Bowls is our game played by eight players; using a total of sixteen woods; on a carpet thirty feet in length. Our only means of physical control is a pair of 4 x 2 x 5 inch blocks placed either side of the delivery area and a round wooden block 18 inches in diameter placed in the centre of the carpet. No player apart from the number three from each team is allowed on the carpet. Wethersfield play "Short Mat" carpet bowls in which the carpet is six feet longer than ours. Only four players are allowed to play because the bowls must be twice the size of ours and weigh twice as much. It takes us twice as much energy just to reach the other end. Although, Alan once managed to overcompensate and send a bowl all the way out into the carpark. He missed the target and somebody opened the entrance door just as the bowl got to it. It helps to be moving forward as you make your delivery which is contrary to carpet bowls where you take a solid stance and in short mat, you must place your back foot on a rubber mat positioned on the carpet. Finally they have a piece of furniture behind the jack that looks a bit likes the hearth of a fireplace. This allows for woods that have touched the jack and then roll out of bounds, over the back line, to be captured and counted towards the end result if closest to the jack. If this isn’t confusing enough, on the score board, they put the number of the end being played at the start of the end not at the end of the end as we do. I am not going to read that last paragraph back to myself, I got confused enough writing it!

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It will come as no surprise that I cannot remember ever winning at Wethersfield and even with home advantage we have lost to them or fought a tight game. So allow me some sour grapes and be assured that we enjoy the company of our lovely neighbours both at home and away. At the end of friendly matches we enjoy refreshments of tea or coffee and a selection of sweet and savoury dishes provided by the home team members. In Shalford the request is that the ladies provide the food and the gentlemen provide a raffle prize. However, with gen- tlemen outnumbering ladies, some of the gentlemen are required to make up a shortfall. This has meant that we have been treated to Tony's very tasty lemon drizzle sponge. Other treats include Diana's peanut slices and Maureen's Victoria sponge. I like to think that on Bowls night, calories don't count. I did mention the raffle which is useful for helping to pay for hiring the village hall as we do not collect subscription fees on match nights. The prizes at both home and away matches are varied. Some wine and chocolates as you might expect plus some unusual and always wel- come donations. We have seen plants both house and garden, flowers and fruit, quails eggs and luxury biscuits, bath bombs and aprons etc. Without picking on anyone in particular, Tony has demonstrated some disturbing choices when he has won. I remember he was particularly pleased with his game of "Toilet Golf". However the best he got was a rather fetching pink ladies handbag. I have been looking for a matching pair of high heels for him to win and complete the ensemble. I believe he gave the handbag to his daughter. My last story is a bit personal but worth telling, as I pointed out earlier, we play in teams of four. I wonder if you can guess the order of play from the description of the players, these are: The Lead or number one; number two; number three and the Skip or number four. At a visit to the Doctor earlier one day, I was diagnosed with a Hernia and in confidence, that even- ing I shared this with my good friend John. Sort of expecting some empathy or sympathy and yes, dammit some pity! On being drawn to play at number four against Eric Sainsbury our club secretary we Skips left the other six players and took up our position at the opposite end of the carpet. As the lead was preparing to bowl the first wood, John's voice broke the silence with the words "hey look at that, it's Eric and Ernia". My hopes of empathy or even sympathy dashed with damn all pity! Clever though. I hope you enjoyed these insights into the game of carpet bowls and if anyone from the club reminds me of the better, funnier, more poignant stories I will be happy to collate and embroi- der them. In the meantime stay safe. Vic Goodey Bendlowe’s Charity no. 241285 Trustees: Alice Cox, Sally Welsh, Rev. Alex Shannon 4 Poetry Corner To Seek One’s Own I'm not a poet I seek in every land I'm not a poet it's true and I know it I have not the talent, words or wit. for this soul Nor the will to practice it I love I have tried, from time to time, to take some words and make them rhyme. I seek my own So as I can't take the heat and find them, I'll find the best way that I can cheat scattered, First I'll review a Shakespeare sonnet Break it down and get right on it everywhere

Well that doesn't work, methinks the language is too ro- mantic. I find them Though his technique was quite fantastic in the gay, I tried to master the Iambic Pentameter the quiet, and I guess with patience I may get better and proud I found the answer it became quite clear in hearts full when I read the works of Edward Lear of human dignity When he found a word that wouldn't rhyme, he just made one up; it worked, every time I seek minds set free I've found it's not easy, it has to be said, by tolerance, he was a very clever chap, that Ed! The lines I write seem rather crude by love – and my made up words seem very rude! hearts that forgive Life

for its many hurts Let me try again with someone like Byron, Keats or Shelly or someone famous off the Telly. and go on At least you now know how hard I have tried, loving to be half as good as the poet's in the TV adverts for Na- tionwide! These are the people I would There are two local poet's Didi Crook and Sheila Bush gather Who might be persuaded to give me a push as my own and if I improve and manage a poem, who knows and in their compassion I may even make the newsletter for Bendlowes. they give me too

the chance of Love Vic Goodey Didi Crooke

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St Peter’s Church

Having read and enjoyed the October issue of Bendlowes Bugle, I thought I would jot down a few notes about St Peter’s Church in Jasper’s Green following the request for information about the Sunday school there. It was Humphrey Marriott, of Abbots Hall and Squire of Shalford, who had St Peter’s Church (locally known as the Tin Church or the Tin Tabernacle) built, in 1877, on part of a field known as Reynolds Field (roughly where Oakley House now stands) at Jasper’s Green. An article in the Chronicle dated 19th October 1877 reports that during a gale, the wooden framework of the iron Church, which was in the course of being erected, was completely blown down and considerably damaged, it also adds that the iron building was being built by Mr F.B. Crittall of Braintree and the wooden framework was being supplied by Mr James Brown, also of Braintree (I wonder whether they were insured!). Once finished, the Church was to seat 200 people. An 1897 map of Jasper’s Green showing St Peter’s Church (Mission Room) The Church was connected with St Andrew’s and any baptisms which took place at St Pe- ter’s were recorded in the baptism register at St Andrew’s. In the early days, it was Humphrey Marriott himself who conducted the service on most Sunday afternoons until he died in 1912. He had also been Churchwarden at St Andrew’s for about twenty years and was the senior Lay Reader in the diocese, having been licensed by Dr Claughton, the first Bishop of St Albans.

Harvest Festivals were always an important time for St Peter’s, there is a report in 1889 and again in 1895 when they had “Hospital Sunday” collections at both St Andrew’s and St Peter’s Harvest Festivals. At the 1934 Harvest Festival, the choir of St An- drew’s attended and the Vicar took the service. In 1935, the Church had been “tastefully decorated” and was well filled for the Harvest Festival and the Vicar, the Rev. J. O. Thompson, preached. The col- lection (£1 10s 5d) was to form a nucleus to obtain heating apparatus for the Church due to the current stove being worn out. The collection from the 1937 Newspaper cutting from the Essex Chronicle Harvest Festival amounted to £2 which went towards dated 1st October 1937 the Church Repair Fund, see copy above. Bendlowe’s Charity no. 241285 Trustees: Alice Cox, Sally Welsh, Rev. Alex Shannon 7

In her obituary in the Essex Chronicle dated 25th September 1936, it was stated that Mrs Florence Law (widow of the Rev. A. J. Law, Vicar of Shalford) had been instrumental in providing St Peter’s with a beautiful reredos in memory of her infant son.

Sadly, by the early 1950s, the Church was in a dilapidated state and in November 1951 Messrs. Joscelyne & Co. of Braintree were given instructions to sell the Church. It was sold in August 1952 reportedly for £400 and the organ and font sold separately for £20. The con- tents of the Church were presented to Shalford Village Hall com- mittee for use in the pavilion on the playing field. The Church was finally demolished during the 1970s. If any of you have any further information or any photos of the Church to add to this, I would be extremely pleased to hear from you. Betty French of Killhogs Farm standing by the steps of St Peter’s Church holding her son, Richard, at his Christening Trevor Beale

We received the following message from Margaret Sparks... A friend has just sent me a copy of the Bugle which I so enjoyed reading, in fact I never knew it existed perhaps because I do not spend as much time as I would like in Shalford. I am a founder of the Shalford Local History Association and as such have collected many personal memories of residents over the years. Yes, the Fox public House was associated with the Church family which is the reason many of us object to the misleading term Church End rather than Church’s End implying from the former that there was a church there. I cannot remember the name of the Iron church at Jaspers Green but it could well be St.Peter. On another subject, yes, various former pupils of the school recall buying sweets from The Fox pub.

͠

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Remembrance…. Lawrence Rawlinson kindly shared some of his photographs of past Remembrance Day services and those who helped with the Poppy Appeal

Lawrence with the two great Grandsons sitting in Major Gold’s pew. Major Gold lived at Abbots Hall and gave the village its playing fields and village hall and payed for 2014 Remembrance day Service at St Andrew’s Church From l-r: a clock on the village hall in his memory of Andrew Overall, Dave Isbell, Lawrence Rawlinson (Standard his son Rodney, killed during the Italian Bearer), Michael Ambrose, Peter Monk (in wheelchair), David Campaign. He was also the the first Presi- Brown, Ken Rust, Peter Morton, John Harvey. Major Guy dent of the Wethersfield and Shalford Gilbey Gold’s great Grandsons are behind. Branch of the British Legion

Receiving awards for 35 years of collecting for the Poppy Appeal l-r: David Brown, Lawrence, Peter Monk, Joyce Brown, Ida Monk (Lawrence’s sister)

Remembrance Service at Shalford Congregational Church 2015, Both pictures l-r: Dan Murphy, Peter

Rawlinson, Andrew Overall, Ian Perry, Michael Handley, Dave Isbel, Ken Rust, Michael Ambrose, Lawrence, Peter Martin, Alan Oates, Peter Monk

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Remembrance…. The following information about the men who lost their lives in the First and Second World Wars, and who are listed on the War Memorial inside St Andrew’s Church, is taken from an article by the late John Harvey and an article by Graham Herriott. First World War Private Albert Adams of the Essex Regiment Killed in action on 30 April 1917 Private Adams signed up to serve in the 9th Battalion of the Essex Regiment when a travelling recruiting team passed through the village. He then travelled to Colchester to officially enlist. He was killed during the Battle of Arras that started on Easter Sunday

9 April 1917 when General Haig planned a breakthrough on the Aisne ©Shalford Historical Association against the German Hindenburg Line. His body was never found, but Private Albert Adams he is commemorated on the Walls to the Missing at the Arras War Memorial in France. Private George Godwin of the Essex Regiment Killed in Action on 26 March 1917 aged 25 Private Goodwin had volunteered to serve in the 4th (Territorial) Battalion of the Essex Regiment before the First World War started, having travelled to IIford to do so. They were at their Annual Training Camp when the War started and were immediately ordered to Felixstowe to take up coastal defence positions and were immediately at work digging trenches. They then left the country on the 21 July 1915 and embarked for Gallipoli via Malta. Here they remained until they left the peninsula for Egypt on the 3 December and were on defensive duties until March 1917 on the East and West banks of the Suez Canal. Private George Goodwin was killed during the advance into the Ottoman Empire. His body was never found and The Jerusalem Memorial he is commemorated on the Walls to the Missing at the Jerusalem. Gunner Sidney Jeffery of Royal Garrison Artillery Died of Wounds 25 March 1918, aged 33 The last Shalford man to lose his life was Sidney Jeffrey in 1918 and his body was found for a proper burial in the Fauborg dAmiens Cemetery. He served in the 405th Siege Battery of the Royal Garrison Artillery but unfortunately it has not been possible to find out anything about his service, He was the son of Mr and Mrs Jeffrey of Shalford and husband of Minnie Jeffrey of 79 Cleveland Road, Surbiton, Surrey. Petty Officer Stoker Thomas Rumsey of the Royal Navy Died on 7 April 1915 aged 28

Thomas was serving in the Navy when war was declared on the 4 August 1914. He served on Bendlowe’s Charity no. 241285 Trustees: Alice Cox, Sally Welsh, Rev. Alex Shannon 10

HMS Actaeon, a shore establishment that was established on 26 April 1876 as the Royal Navy's Torpedo and Anti Submarine Warfare Branch in Portsmouth. He is buried in St Andrews Churchyard in Shalford, having died of an appendicitis in a naval hospital. ‘His happy face, his friendly clasp Are pleasing to recall He had a kindly word for each And died beloved by all’. He was the son of Thomas and Eliza Rumsey of Shalford. Private Frank Smee of the Norfolk Regiment Died of Wounds 30 April 1917 Born in Shalford in 1882, Frank joined the s" (Service) Battalion of the Norfolk Regiment that was formed in in September 1914. Frank Smee survived the Battle of the Somme but lost his life during the Battle of Arras. He does has a grave and is buried in the Bethune Town Cemetery in France in Plot 6, Row E, Grave28.

Private Sidney Whitehead of the Essex Regiment Killed in Action on 3 July 1916 aged 24 He travelled to Chelmsford to enlist in his County Regiment and served in their 9th Battalion. He was the son of Alfred and Polly Whitehead of Shalford. He took part in the Battle of Loos but was killed in the Battle of the Somme and is commemorated on the Thiepval Memorial shown here.

Private Arthur Watkinson of the Essex Regiment Died of Wounds on 6 July 1916 aged 35 A regular soldier who had served in South Africa he was sent to Gallipolli as part of the 9th Battalion. He died of his wounds and is buried in Louvencourt Military Cemetary. He was the son of Robert and Mary Emily Watkinson, of Shalford. Second World War Walter Sidney Callow Chief Petty Officer Royal Navy. Killed in action 1 February 1943 Aged 43 Walter is recorded as living in Jaspers Green in 1911. He joined the Royal Navy as a 'Boy Il' in 1915 and served continually as a Telegraphist reaching rank of CPO on HMS Welshman. Whilst transporting stores and personnel to Tobruk the ship was hit by a torpedo fired by U-617 and sank 2 hours later, east of Tobruk. Walter was one of 155 lives lost. HMS Welshman

Private Maurice Anthony Cook Suffolk Regiment Killed in action 12 October 1944 aged 19. The son of John and Bessie Cook, born 5/8/1925 and Christened in Cottered ,Herts. In 1939 he was listed by Council as living in sub district 201 of Braintree and at school aged 14. He joined the 1st Battalion Suffolk Regiment and was killed on in the Western European Campaign and is buried at Overloon War Cemetery in the Netherlands . Bendlowe’s Charity no. 241285 Trustees: Alice Cox, Sally Welsh, Rev. Alex Shannon 11

Sergeant Edward Charles Crumby The Queen's Royal Regiment (West Surrey) Died 23 May 1940 Age 32

Sgt Crumby served with the Royal Fusiliers then transferred to the Queens and died during the 'Battle of France' in 1940 just 8 days before he would have been evacuated at Dunkirk. His parents, Charles and Mary Adolphine Crumby were registered as living at ’Council Bunga- lows’ in Shalford.

Sergeant Albert Walter Dawson .Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve Killed in action 22 Oc- tober 1944 Albert was son of Mary Ann Dawson of Shalford. 70 Squadron were equipped with Welling- ton Bombers flying from Italian bases 70 Sqn ranged over northern Italy, Austria and the Balkans. His plane came down somewhere unidentified as yet.

Captain Rodney Wyman Gold Royal Artillery Killed in action 24 February 1944. Age: 30 The son of Major Guy Gilbey Gold and Maud Mary Gold, of Abbots Hall, Shalford, Essex. He was killed during the Italian campaign, his body was found one kilometer north of Campo de Carne station, in the province of Aprilia and he is buried at Beach Head War cemetery, Anzio

Gunner Edward William Mason Lt. A.A. Regt. Royal Artillery. Died on 22 March 1944 Age 25 The son of Arthur Mingay Mason and Alice Mason, of Shalford, Essex he died of meningitis and was buried in Naples.

Eric William Ravilious Captain Royal Marines Died 2 September 1942 Age 39 Ravilious (see image below) was appointed an Honorary Captain in the Royal Marines when appointed as Official war Artist. He lived with his family at 'Ironbridge Farm' from 1941. In August 1942 Ravilious was sent to Iceland and on the 1st September joined a crew in a search party for a lost aircraft. His aircraft also failed to return, and he and the four crewmen were lost.

Bendlowe’s Charity no. 241285 Trustees: Alice Cox, Sally Welsh, Rev. Alex Shannon 12 Remembrance …. Verdun, France, 1918 Coming Great uncle To Herbert J Jones Verdun Trumpeter Royal Horse Artillery We saw, grimly hugging the crest 1917 Of a little hill, a smooth grey hulk No known grave The Osssaire, bone sanctuary ~ Of those unknown. Great grandfather Hideous, evil, obsessed with death, Thomas Justice A brooding vulture, wings outstretched Flanders 1915 Over its hoard of bones. No known grave Rearing it’s head skyward ~ The central tower surveys Every November A field of daises at its feet? across the nation, Coming We pause to remember Closer a lost generation, Now in conflicts to this present day, We see, no, not daises they if only there could be a way, it shouldn’t be so hard to find But crosses, row on row a way for us to just be kind. Where in between the roses grow. ~~

Margaret Sparks Carol Hussey

St.Avold, American Cemetery And she saw ghosts of children To ST.Avold they brought her, the mother, That never were Pointed to a white cross that was her son Fluttering between the white crosses And said, he died for liberty, your boy. Of those who could have been their fathers. But the mother knew them false Where scrubby trees now deck the mortar holes For drooping over the grave She heard men shrieking in soggy mud and She saw a spectre that beckoned her Horses screaming through the canon fire. To where, not far away, at Verdun Another war had raged, years before, Where trenches filled with weeds once asked a That nothing proved. toll Of men in droves, a never ending stream, The mother saw it all, as in a dream.

Margaret Sparks

My Father, John Patrick Bisset 1917 to 1997. He served with the Royal Engineers mainly in North Africa and was awarded the Military Medal. Gill Askew

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Dr Stephen Thomas Sommerville

21.12.1948 – 27.3.2020 Steve was born to Thomas and Daisy Sommerville on 21st December, 1948 in Birmingham. He started to learn to play the piano at 7 years of age, completing all of his exams in his teenage years before leaving school. When 11 years old, he won a scholarship for entry to King Henry VIII Grammar School in Coventry, where he took part in extra-curricular activities, playing rugby for the school’s first team, as well as playing piano and double bass for the school orchestra. Always something of a rebel, after completing his GCEs, Steve left for Aix-en-Provence with members of a band he was playing with and, after running out of money, worked on a farm as a labourer until his par- ents and school persuaded him to come home and start his A-levels. The time he spent in France began a life-long love of the country, its food and its culture. Steve attended University College , studying for a BA and MPhil in Philosophy. He left the UK for Hamilton, Ontario, where he had chosen to research for a PhD - ‘Types, Categories and Significance’ at McMaster University. He chose McMaster as it was the home of the Bertrand Russell archive. After successfully completing his PhD, Steve spent several years in Grahamstown, South Africa, working as a senior lecturer in Philosophy at Rhodes University. While there he became involved with the ANC, help- ing them set up dummy accounts to provide a conduit for money from UK and Canadian trade unions, Swedish Churches and the WCC. He also became involved with the formation of United Democratic Front organisations which constituted an internal opposition movement that was central in bringing down apartheid. He was a member of the Grahamstown Rural Committee which was trying to stop forced re- movals of peasant farmers in 'white' areas and was part of the Grahamstown Democratic Action Com- mittee (GRADAC) – a ‘white’ affiliate of the UDF – which was central in coordinating white support for the resistance movement. On his return to the UK during 1986, he began working at the Department of Computer Science, Queen Mary College, University of London. He tragically lost his wife Janine and baby daughter Frances during January 1988 which had a devastating effect on him, his daughter Niki and his immediate family. Gradual- ly, with the help of close family members and good friends, he began to rebuild his life. My journey with Steve started in early 1991, when we began our relationship after meeting at Queen Mary College. He took part in bringing up Katherine, my young daughter, and we built a life together spanning 29 years. We had many happy times travelling to Europe, Hong Kong, Iran and New Zealand, with perhaps the most memorable trip being to Sweden in 1996 - a two-month camping expedition on a motorbike and sidecar, when Katherine was 8 years old, to collect data for Marylyn’s PhD studies in ar- chaeology. It was a fantastic experience but obviously had its moments! We moved to Shalford in May 2008, adapting to and enjoying village life although still working part-time in London. From 2009, we took part in concerts organised locally with friends Andreas Flohr and Jo and Peter Mayo. These were very happy times indeed. Andreas remembers Steve as “a musical companion with whom we’ve had the privilege of spending countless hours singing and celebrating. Thank you, Steve, for all those wonderful moments we shared together. Your knowledge and insights into all aspects of life, the wonderful stories you shared will be remembered, as will your dedication and kind nature, your gen- erously caring personality, which set an example to us all. You will be in our hearts forever”.

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Jo and Peter Mayo also sent kind words from Australia: “We have such good memories of our very happy times music making and performing together; it meant such a lot to us.” Jo remembers Steve’s patience and sense of humour, as well as his impeccable sense of timing. “A life well lived that had such humanitar- ian heart, having had to change course a few times that we knew of, as well as enduring very hard or diffi- cult personal loss. Pete has many conversations and times to remember, discussing the state of the world with Steve…. politics, music, philosophy, academia and his interest in our lives. He had such an interesting, informed, unique personality and attentive smile”. Steve passed away on 27th March, 2020. He will be remembered as a caring partner, a loving father and grandfather, an excellent teacher and a talented musician. He was a life-long supporter of Aston Villa foot- ball club. Marylyn Whaymand

I am sure you would all like to join me in sending our condolences to Marylyn and to thank her for giving us an insight to the life of a wonderful man and for allowing us to Celebrating Steve’s life with her. What a privilege. Alice

I remember Steve, always smiley, always happy to see the dogs when he dropped off Katherine's gor- geous beagle Minnie for a day of doggie daycare. He took real pride in remembering all the dog's names. Mel

Remembering my father. Alan Leonard Dunn. May 1943 – February 2020 My father was a frequent visitor to Shalford from Faversham in Kent, having lost my mother his wife Maureen in 2011 He often helped out at the Shalford Horticultural Shows selling raffle tickets with his beloved grand- daughter Collette and occasionally coming along to the Bendlowe’s Meet and Greet sessions. Many of my Shalford friends met him; always in his mobility scooter due to suffering with Lambert Eaton Myasthenic Syndrome (LEMS) which caused impaired nerve signal transmission resulting in muscle weakness and excessive fatigue. We loved having him to stay and showing him our wonder- ful Shalford; the place we love and now call home. Sadly we lost him in February this year. Mel Fray

What a very friendly and happy chap he was. I still remember the Jubilee when he insisted on being the anchor for the tug of war at the Jaspers Green Jubilee Street Party despite being on a motorised scooter. A health and safety nightmare especially as the rope snapped!

Sally

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MY GREAT, GREAT, GREAT AUNT MRS MARRIOT OF ABBOTS HALL, SHALFORD BY: Camilla Jarvis In the spirit of the popular programme ‘Who do you think you are?’ and due to the inspiration of Alice who asked me to write something of local historical interest I thought you may like to hear a little about my relative Edith who was married to Squire Humph- rey Marriot (see picture below) of Abbots Hall in the mid 1800s and lived there with her husband and his spinster sister, as well as some other family members. There are win- dows and memorials to the Marriot family in Shalford church where they are laid to rest. The couple went on to have three children, two boys and a girl. One of the boys suffered badly from asthma and was taken to live in Italy, a common way of adapting to life with a chest com- plaint at the time. Sadly he died in his early twenties and, as he loved music, his sister, Edith, the same name as her mother, had the pipe organ installed at Shalford church. There is a brass plaque dedicating the recently restored, thanks to FOSTAC, pipe organ to him which can still be seen today. The connection to this part of my family history was drawn when I saw the article on Happy Byford’s life. Happy (nickname and what a good one!) was a well known local farmer and horse breeder and trainer who lived as an adult at Roselands Farm, , where Mrs Mandy French, a strong Bendlowe’s ©Shalford Historical Association supporter, lives today. In the article a Sunday School Prize that Happy won in 1903 is signed by Mrs Marriot. Dorothy Gardner, a local academic who was once Headmistress of Notley High, wrote in her excellent and comprehensive book of local history ‘ The Story of Shalford’ that Mrs Marriot taught the Sunday School at Shalford church as well as sewing and reading to the children of the village and also that when a lady in the parish became a mother, she would always arrive with a layette for the little one and make sure the mother had enough to eat. I am very proud of my long-ago Aunt for that. Mrs Marriot was the daughter of Squire and Mrs White of Wethersfield Manor. She had grown up in a large family of children but, sadly, had lost her Mother, Charlotte (nee Smyth) at a tender age. Charlotte had passed away in 1842 aged only 32 of consump- tion, a common disease in the early 1800s. Charlotte was the only daughter of H G Smyth of Colchester who was the local Tory MP, his marble bust is in the old town hall of Colchester. As an only daughter Charlotte had been much indulged by her father who had even built her her own swimming pool in the area of woodland now known as Friday Woods and much used by Colchester Garrison for military training near their home of Berechurch Hall. The remains of the pool and the little changing hut, above the door of which Charlotte’s name was picked out in sea shells, were visible until the 1970s. Mrs Marriot’s Father was Squire White, who was third generation of what had originally been a farming family. The White family memorials are in the chancel of Wethersfield church. The family farm house, known as Dobbins, was on the land on which Squire White built Wethersfield Manor. The manor, now divided into three separate dwellings, is based very much on Berechurch Hall in which Charlotte had grown up with marble pillars in what was the ballroom and deep sash Georgian windows overlooking the park-

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to become a Major in the Royal Horse Artillery. Harry Graham re- tired from the army to Danes Vale, Wethersfield and enjoyed a simple rural life after his travels on military campaign to India, Egypt and South Africa. Harry Graham’s son, Philip, was to become, in the lat- ter part of World War One, a founding member of the embryonic RAF. Philip had trained to become a pilot with the Royal Flying Corps, which was part of the army before the RAF was born. Sadly, Philip was lost in a flying training accident at RAF Feltwell, Norfolk in 1918, shortly after the close of World War One, he was just short of his 24th birthday. My Grandmother, Eileen (nee Maconcy) had only been married to Philip for a few months and was not aware, when she lost her hus- band, that she was expecting my mother, Leonie. My mother grew up to have four children of her own and I am the youngest and the only one to live so close to my roots, two of my brothers now live in Aus- tralia and one in Dorset. Mr Roy Threadgold, Captain of the Belltow- er of Wethersfield church, organised for the bells to be rung on the 100th anniversary of local men lost to war and I was very proud to be present for the tolling of the bells to my Grandfather’s memory.

CROSSING PATHS WITH A HURRICANE - 1955 by Margaret Sparks

It was the smell of paint that did it. Morning sickness was no help either; and the ship was still berthed! To this day, I have never heard the last of it from my fami- ly - that a person could get seasick on a ship that was im- mobile. But, yes, I could! I had said a tearful goodbye to friends and family in Panfield and Shalford and was now at Southampton on the the USS General Randall, a Liberty USS General George M. Randall ship about to convey dependents of US military to America, (AP-115) underway in 1945 of which I was one. The ship seemed to be painted in thick layers of grey, on metal, seemingly miles of it, which affected both nostrils and stomach. Queasiness reigned! My husband was below decks and I shared a cabin with two other ladies, one from Norway and the other English en route to Illinois. She and I were prostrate most of the time but our Norwegian companion showed no distress though she provided it for us by way of dressing for dinner as we watched helplessly from our bunks; then applied her makeup with a steady hand. No swaying there. Each morning she slept in late while we two staggered up to the top deck despite the awful weather, to lie there all day under a blanket, staring in misery at the distant horizon. Meanwhile every morning my husband appeared from below deck chanting that Bendlowe’s Charity no. 241285 Trustees: Alice Cox, Sally Welsh, Rev. Alex Shannon 17 seasickness was all in the mind and that I should eat something. That something, at least one day when we made it to the dining room, was a bushel basket of apples. Evidently Chef had given up on keeping plates on the table though there was a snap up rim around each table top to do so - an ominous sign. When the ship began its slow movement into the Solent I felt seasick, a condition that last- ed for five out of the seven days to New York. We could have flown but I had never done so and was apprehensive so our dog Kim was transported by air to New York, some 13 hours in those days, while I suffered at sea. Sleeping aboard was almost impossible as one was tossed from side to side against the metal of the bunk as the ship rolled. In the morn- ing we staggered to the upper deck, found a chair and resigned ourselves to another day of gazing from grey paint to a grey, grim horizon. Within earshot were a group of officers and wives who regaled anyone nearby with a de- tailed discussion of the menu they had just partaken while we gritted our teeth and tried not to listen. Somehow chilli con carne was not appealing. We got our revenge somewhat when about two days from New York we, who had recovered by then, spotted these un- feeling persons queuing up for seasick pills. The weather got worse, rumours abounded. Were we really going to the rescue of a sister ship in mid Atlantic? We were. Her engine had failed and she might have to be towed by us, her sister Liberty ship. As if to emphasize the rumour a gathering of passengers in the lounge experienced the ship at its roughest when all the chairs, tables, and sofas one side of the room slid across to the other side with a big crash. An officer appeared in the door- way scratching his head then ordered us back to our cabins. My little Illinois-bound friend began to cry that we were going to die and I tried not to agree with her. We were in the eye of the hurricane but thankfully our sister ship got her engine started and we were free to move on. My husband had been put in charge of the guard, those responsible for passenger safety but unfortunately he had not called one of them in during that violent storm. We were frightened that his forgetfulness would result in a dishonourable discharge from the USAF. Added to which the high wind had blown his cap away while on deck meaning he was out of uniform when he should not have been. Fortunately, our worries came to noth- ing. Finally land came in sight. It would be hard to describe the relief. The Statue of Liberty pleading for those yearning to be free scarcely moved me except, I whispered to myself, that glorious sense of freedom from the wicked waves of the North Atlantic in winter. Our tenuous claim to fame:- In 1958, the General George M. Randall was the ship that carried then-Private Elvis Pres- ley to his first assignment in Germany; in the voyage, Elvis performed in the ship's variety show as a piano player. I can still close my eyes and see those tables and chairs crashing from one side of the ship to the other and visualise Elvis sitting there playing the piano!!

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SHALFORD IN THE 1920s By: the late Eva Waring, nee Rust 1917 –2019

By kind permission of her daughter Jan Waring The following is re-produced verbatim from a record- ed interview by Bill Askew on 15th April 2016 with Eva Waring.

Shalford School Photo 1924 Eva is in the first row of standing children, far right.

Photo by kind permission of Shalford History Society

We lived on the Bardfield Road, it was only a gravel lane then with grass growing in the mid- dle. We had a long walk to school which took us around 45 minutes, or longer if we were dawdling. We would walk to school on the lane and then through the village and up White’s Hill to Church End. In the Summer we would go part of the way up the lane and then walk across the fields and around the edge of Levelley Woods and came out on the road just near the school. Sometimes, we would get as far as Turn Pond and we would hear the school bell. Mr Wisbey had these two big lakes built there but originally it was just a little village pond. The boys used to go birds nesting there in the Springtime to get the eggs from the wild ducks nests. My brothers used to get the eggs with a spoon tied on a long handle. They would take them home for mum to fry, a whole pan full of them. We would get a black mark for being late to school and, of course, we quite often were. We would make all sorts of excuses for our lateness like somebody wasn’t well at home and things like that, but if we weren’t believed, our teacher, Mrs Porter, was very quick with the cane, a little whippy one which stung. At school there were just two rooms, the little room and the big room. The smaller children were taught by Miss Ashby and Miss Eagling in the big room and the older children were taught by Mrs Porter in the small room. Miss Eagling cycled to school every day from Bocking. A school prize was awarded to the pupil who collected the most species of wild flowers. We had a lovely book at school, I think it was called Johns, which had many pages of wild flowers, it was such a wonderful book. If we found a flower that we didn’t know, we could hunt through the pages of Johns until we could identify it. We were always very poor and occasionally some of the people that mum cleaned or laun- dered for would give her their cast off clothes and shoes and, of course, if anything fitted you, you had to wear it whatever it was. I remember there was a pair of skating boots, they were very elegant compared to normal everyday boots and because they were so different I got my leg pulled. These boots had holes in the bottom where the skates fitted on but I had to wear them because they fitted me and I got teased unmercifully. Mum would never let us stay off school if the weather was bad, we still had to go. I can remember having chilblains through ill- fitting shoes, my feet got frozen on the walk to school but after I had been in the classroom for a while and my feet warmed up, my chilblains would start to itch and there was no way of

Bendlowe’s Charity no. 241285 Trustees: Alice Cox, Sally Welsh, Rev. Alex Shannon 19 taking your boots off so I just had to sit there and endure it, it was torture, I don’t know how I managed to concentrate on my lessons. For lunch everybody used to take sandwiches because there were no school meals in those days, and we would open our sandwiches and say “oh good, we have egg today”, but it was really bread and mustard. Miss Eagling would make us a cup of co- coa and that was nice and warming, so we had a hot drink with our mustard sandwiches. In the Winter, when the ponds froze over, we would slide on the ice and I can’t remember anyone ever having an accident. We were only sliding because nobody had skates or anything like that. My father, Jack, worked on the land and he worked very hard. We had a big garden at our home, Ringates Cottage (now called Kusti Kennar) and he grew everything, we didn’t have a greengrocer, we lived off what dad grew in the garden. We would eat seasonally. When Rhubarb came in we would have rhubarb and custard. In the Winter we would have prunes and custard. We would buy the prunes from the village shop and soak them overnight, but, of course, as soon as the rhu- barb came in we had rhubarb. Dad made use of every square inch of the garden, we had two ap- ple trees. We kept some chickens but we didn’t have eggs very often because the birds were raised to be taken and sold at Braintree Market. My sister and I used to share an egg and she al- ways swore she had the smaller half. Eggs were a luxury which we only had very occasionally. Mum used to take the chickens to market in a wicker basket on the back of her bike. The custom- ers seemed to prefer the chickens that laid brown eggs. She had to wait in Braintree while the birds were sold. The money raised went into bringing us children up. We had to go and fetch our milk from the dairy at Boydells Farm, just over the river, which was run by the Tillbrooks. Old Mrs Tillbrook used to have this great big vat and she used to skim the cream off, it looked gorgeous. We used to stand there with our mouths open because the cream did look so nice. Because we were poor, we used to have what we called the blue milk, that was skimmed milk. --o0o-- Braintree Cattle Market Reading the above mentioning Braintree Market has reminded me that my parents moved from Chadwell Heath to Braintree in the late 60s and I can remember Braintree Cattle Market just be- fore it closed. Has anyone else memories, stories, photos, of Braintree Cattle Market? It used to be where Tesco’s is now. Alice

Church End or Church’s End and another local history question Margaret Sparks contacted Alice regarding the interpretation of the stone church shown on the map in Heather’s article in our September issue. She said “In all my research into Shalford records and maps I have never come across a stone church and doubt one existed. The word stone is not very clear though the word church is so we could take a guess it is really Store, Church, meaning a store belonging to the Church family who ran The Fox Pub. Mrs. Church sold sweets from a window at the pub to the schoolchildren nearby so the Premises were perhaps known as a store rather than a shop.” Alice then asked if she knew why we have a large Rectory at Church End. To which Margaret replied “The former old rectory is still there behind the George but from the school log books at Church End, we see that the rector was at the school about every day once the school was in operation. So it made sense to have a home nearby one would think, especially as he fell off his bicycle and into the pond at Water Hall Lane once, or so ‘‘tis said. That hill could have been a bit of a challenge. It is quite puzzling why the school was not built closer to the centre of the village , I.e. the church , but closer to Abbots Hall and it’s comings and goings perhaps as the Marriott were very involved in its functions.”

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WORK WITH HATIBARI LEPER COLONY, ORISSA STATE BY DIDI CROOK

Before I arrived at Hatibari, I spent two weeks at an In- dian short-term work camp in Kalikapur village, in Ben- gal, near Calcutta – mainly agricultural work and eve- nings listening to classical Indian music. This was a wonderful experience of integration! My work and life at Hatibari was another total cultural change. Most of the lepers (250) were Adivasi (tribal) people who normally would live in the scrub jungle are- as, but there were also many Hindus including the high- est caste of Brahmin. SCI Long Term Project in Hatibari Here my work was similar – to do my best to look after Leprosy Colony (India) 1961-1966 the health of the lepers. There had been a severe prob- Farm Entrance 1966 (downloaded from lem of corruption by a Doctor, who had been appointed SCI website) there, and India SCI had revealed this, and he had left and no other Doctor was yet appointed to visit. There were only a couple of cowshed-like buildings and one square room available, other than the mud-huts which were scattered around the area, which were occupied by indi- vidual/shared lepers and two for our small SCI team. The leader was an Indian from Calcutta (Maulik), there was a veterinarian Indian volunteer, Felix, a Frenchman and a Canadian, Ameri- can and Finnish girl came and went during my time there. All the others worked to develop agriculture – rice, vegetables and by grace of Oxfam, a fish tank to provide food. Most of the lepers had been beggars until they arrived here, when the Orissa State government and SCI funded basic food. Rice and Dahl daily gets a bit boring, hence the drive to get better vegeta- bles etc. The cowsheds were filled with a number of Indian rope-beds and became the male and female “hospital” wards respectively. The square room was used for treatments – medicine giving and treatment of leprosy ulcers. At this stage, there was no possibility of a scientific check as to which leper was an infectious case or not. This was badly needed to ascertain correct dos- ages of leprosy medicines available. At that stage, the effects of leprosy could be reduced but there was no cure. Nowadays there is a cure. Gradually, I noticed that in the evenings people came who were not really ill. They just wished to be together. So with some money sent from England, we bought local Indian board games and set them up in the room. So this, the Square Room, became also the Community Centre! Shortly after, the Brahmin wished to discuss the setting up of a small temple – which was duly built and then he would lead the lepers in the various Hindu ceremonies. People gradually be- came happier, although were the poorest people I knew. I shall never forget the wandering Guru, who got leprosy and ended up in our community. I brought him into the “hospital” – so that he would rest and not wander about, enlarging his ulcer. It was cold at night and while he was there, we managed to purchase some blankets for each bed. When I did my “night-round” of the “hospital”, all the others were giggling with glee and using their blankets – all except the Guru. One leper – Nisakaru – had given himself the

Bendlowe’s Charity no. 241285 Trustees: Alice Cox, Sally Welsh, Rev. Alex Shannon 21 role of interpreter for me. When I asked him why the Guru was not using his blanket and he asked him why, the reply was “It is such a beautiful thing to be given a blanket – that before I can use it, I must say thank you to God. I can not do this however until sunrise tomorrow, at special prayers. I will take it with me to say thank you and then I can use it”. Sure enough, he was using it the following night. Here was a man who had nothing – and waited to say “Thank you”, rather than grab it and be warm. A most humbling experience for me coming from our materialistic Western world. Another day, I had to tell a Beggar who arrived wanting treatment for the worst foot ulcer I’d seen (half a foot only left) that I could treat him but there was no more food allowance avail- able (we were full to capacity). On hearing that, one man whose family sent a very little money every so often, stepped forward and said quickly to me, “You can take him in; I will share my food with him”. This was incredibly moving for me. I’m glad to say that this man who looked like a skeleton when he arrived grew to be quite “chubby” 3 months later, and his terrible foot healed up at least. Maybe the maggots in the deep wound assisted the healing in fact! The lepers were quite challenging – whenever a new person came to Hatibari, instead of the normal Indian greeting of “Namaste” with palms of the hands together – they would do this gesture, but enclose the visitor’s hands between their palms. If the visitor flinched, knowing they had leprosy, the lepers took and instant dislike. A bit naughty perhaps, but understanda- ble. They quickly gauged whether your humanity was real towards them or not. Not long before I left, a new Doctor was appointed to visit. He really did not want to be there – it was not helpful to his career to be sent to a Leper Colony. This trick was tried on him and he failed the test. He also made a great show of washing his hands. That night, I found Nisa- karu charging about the land, with blood-shot eyes, and carrying a stick. When asked what was wrong, he raged about the Doctor, saying he would overturn his car when he next came and set it a light. Nisakaru had been smoking Gunja (Marijuana) grown everywhere by the lepers at Hatibari– and I had quite a task to quieten him down. Nisakaru loved to be with me in the Treatment Room – he would hang his long arms over the cupboard door, and sing softly. When patients would come in, he would translate “Didi, this man has Head-defect (headache)”, or “Didi, this woman has Water-defect (cystitis)”. I loved my time also here at Hatibari as much as with Tibetans. The worst moment was when the new Doctor on a visit called me “A Bloody White”! Racism on the other foot for a change!

In Didi’s next article she will tell us about a huge cultural change – work in a slum clinic in Osaka City, Japan.

Farm Court 1966 (taken from SCI website)

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