Descriptions of Goldhanger
from the past
historically informative extracts from
across the centuries
Contents
- Complimentary
extracts
-
Ancient Goldhanger
Documents (1000-1900) -
more Goldhanger
Documents (1900-2000) - Court and Newspaper
Reports
- Newspaper
articles from the past
- Top articles from the 20th century
-
Property sales from the past - Goldhanger Conservation Area
-
listed & unlisted historic buildings in the village |
.
. .Aungre signifies the
place, but how this comes to be dignified with the fine name of Gold, we cannot
well conceive. . .
Whiteʼs Directory of Essex, 1848
Goldhanger,
a neat and pleasant village, at the head of a short creek, on the north side of
the estuary of the Blackwater, 4 miles East North
East of Maldon, has in its parish 520 souls. The village has a fair for toys on
Whit-Monday, and a great part of the parish is low and marshy, but on the north
side the surface rises gently, and the soil is a gravely loam. . .
Lewisʼs
Topographical Dictionary of England, 1848
.
. .This place of 520 inhabitants is pleasantly
situated on the road from Maldon to Colchester, and is bounded on the south by
the river Blackwater, creeks of which come up to some
of the farms. It consists chiefly of low marshy ground, having a light gravely
soil, but producing good crops, especially of barley. A small pleasure fair is
held on the Monday and Tuesday in Whitsun week. . .
The
living is a rectory, valued in the kingʼs books
at ₤25
19s 4d and in the gift of the Rev, Thomas Leigh. There are places of worship
for Independents and Wesleyans. The Romans are supposed to have effected a
landing from the river Blackwater; and some mounds in
the parish show that they encamped here . .
The Manchester Guardian, 24th February 1920
GOLDHANGER
Over the dim
hills where gorse was all abloom in February there were villages Whose names were as the jingling or bells. Every signpost in
this lovely land was a scrap of purest poetry, not huddled away in musty pages,
but flung bravely to meet the sun and the wind and the eye of the wanderer.
There was a signpost at the cross-roads just ahead of me, and three of its arms
I could read as I approached: Tolleshunt Knights, Tolleshunt DʼArcy, Hatfield Peveril and I new these names:
they had been jingling in my ears for many miles. But the fourth arm, as it
swung into view, pointed beyond the ridge of the hill and sounded a new and
deeper note. It was as if some mighty poet, passing away from earth, had
murmured the name with his dying breath. I whispered it softly to myself, and I
thought of serene sunsets and meadows high with corn and the shade of great
trees. Goldhanger, Goldhanger,
I said aloud. "I
will go to Goldhanger". And I
climbed quickly to the summit.
From the
topmost ridge the miles drooped gently into the broad bosom of an estuary. The
tide was out and the mud shining in the sun. Brown-sailed yachts lay stranded
off the fairway, and through the broad belt of mud the river ran in a curve of
gold. And scattered on the nearer bank there were red-roofed cottages and a
church with a candle snuffer tower and a white windmill. That was Goldhanger.
The road swept
down amongst the gorse, and the cool salt wind blew in from the shore. I
remembered things that had happened over a thousand years ago, and mighty
battles that were fought upon these green slopes. Danish galleys had pushed up
the estuary at high tide. Danish warriors had staggered across the mud and
shingle and hammered their way up the hills. There was no village in those far
days: the hills were lonely for miles inland, yet even in their desolation
there would have been beauty in the brown mud and the river sweeping to the
sea. Time and time again the sunset spilling its glory over the estuary had
dazzled the eyes of those Danish warriors as they made one last attempt to
fight their way in from the shore, and the brave blood of countless forgotten
men had drenched the waving slopes on which the gorse now bloomed. It could not
have been until many a score years afterwards that Essex folk began to creep
over the ridge and settle in huts by the edge of the river-mouth. They would be
poor fisher-folk mostly, and some day they would wake to find their hamlet
grown worthy of a name. But why Goldhanger?
Was it be divine accident of some feudal scribe, or
did it spring from the soul of an unknown poet of the land?
The road
narrowed here into an ill-defined pathway, and climbed abruptly to the top of
the sea-wall. A long shining arm of the estuary stretched ahead, dotted with
scores of mud banks overgrown with reeds and sea lavender, and all around down
both slopes of the sea-wall the grasses waved with shadow and sunlight. At the
mouth of the creek the estuary swelled infinitely to the open sea, and miles
and miles of brown-black mud hissed in the sun. The sea-wall rolled ahead into
great meaningless curves: somewhat to one side the red-roofed village nestled
cosily in the dimple of a hill. And above everything was the yellow sun
stooping to the west amid the brittle blue of a February sky. There was no
sound, save when the wind shook the grasses into waving tumult, or when the
seagulls gathered and rose over the mud banks and called shrilly and swooped
again to rest. The village drowsed as it had drowsed through years uncounted;
no murmur of life came fit its clustered roofs. And suddenly I knew what
Masefield meant when he wrote:
I
must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is
a loud call and a clear call that may not, be denied.
When I left,
the tide was creeping in through the maze of mud banks, and I could hear the
water oozing and splashing amongst the reeds. The thin gold bar of the river
had widened into a broad lake, and over it to seagulls were flapping their
wings and crying weirdly. Far in the west, where the estuary closed into the
hills, the sun was brooding, in proud splendour, and in the nearer distance Goldhanger lay in the last blood-red rays. Here and there a
window glittered like a ruby, and afar off with faces gloriously aflame came
figures along the sea-wall. They were the boatmen, waiting for the coming of
the tide.
James
Hilton.
Extracts from Dr Salterʼs
diary published after death in 1933, relating to Goldhanger
Dec 1864
- Drove to Goldhanger to attend the Hand-in-Hand Club
Fest. (could be his term for the Goldhanger
Friendly Brothers). The fellows were very jovial and drank the health of their
new doctor most enthusiastically.
July 1870
- Goldhanger Regatta.
Rowed and came second.
Mar 1871 - Busy vaccinating everyone in
consequence of an epidemic of smallpox.
June 1872 -
Went down to the great wedding at Goldhanger between
Kate Creswell and Mr Baker Harrington of Colchester - a grand affair. I got there
in time for the breakfast set out very tastefully in the barn. In the evening
dancing to the dulcet tones of the Colchester Volunteer Band. Home at 4am.
Nov 1872 - Telegraph wire into DʼArcy complete.
Nov 1875
- Sent for in a hurry to Goldhanger. A boat capsized
and one of its occupants was reported drowned, but by four hours diligent
perseverance of artificial respiration and rubbing I got him round.
Apr 1884
- An earthquake at 9.20 a.m., knocking down a chimney of the house which nearly
came through the roof, frightening everybody very much and ringing all the
bells.
Aug 1884 - Vaccinating from calf at Tollesbury all afternoon.
July 1888 - Flower Show
at Goldhanger - several firsts
Jan 1890 -
A new epidemic of influenza
Aug 1890
- Up to our necks in Diphtheria.
Mar 1895 - influenza everywhere, small-pox
in Tollesbury.
Aug 1900 - Isolation tents up at Goldhanger for diphtheritic patents.
Sept 1901 - A Tollesbury man caught a shark in the Blackwater,
it weighed a cwt and measured seven feet.
July 1902
- I took the 9 oʼclock train to London and with
it my new alstroemeria (blood red), which I took up
to the Westminster Royal Horticultural Societyʼs
Committee with a view to getting a certificate if I could, and hence make it a
new flower with a naming of my own. The Committee were unanimous in giving me
the " Award of Merit," the highest honour in
horticulture. I had to name the plant, so I called it Mrs. Salter.
May 1906 - Made a director of the Spitzbergen Exploration Co.
July 1906
- Dined at Goldhanger rectory and heard Revd. Gardnerʼs
story about Spitzbergen, from which he had just
returned. His account is wonderful and there seems to be great results looming
over all participants, myself included.
Feb 1908 - The telephone is being put into
the house.
Aug 1908 - A telegram that the Spitzbergen assay was 16grains per ton and therefore useles.
July 1911
- Letter came capsizing my plans for going to Spitzbergen.
I am out of it regarding polar bear and reindeer shooting. My 70th birthday
tomorrow too!
July 1911 - Bombarded by
newspaper men about Spitzbergen.
June 1912
- First meeting of Northern Exploration Company, Spitzbergen.
There were some splendid exhibitions of marble of all colours. It seems to me
that things will now go.
July 1913 - Saw an
aeroplane over the village for the first time.
1915-1916 - Over a two
year period Dr Salter makes 32 references to Zeppelins in the area.
Mar 1918 - Clinched a deal with the
Northern Exploration Company, receiving 1000 pounds for 2100 shares. I think I
am wise.
1918 - Attended a women with her 10th
child, all of whom I have brought into the world.
Her mother was present as a nurse, who had 13 children, all of whom I brought
into the world. Her daughter was also present with her 2 children, also
attended by me. Total 25.
Nov 1918 - Spitzbergen
resuscitation (after 24 years)!
Feb 1920 - Spitzbergen
property seems to have done well after all - I am the poor chap left out in the
cold!
Mar 1923
- To Marconi House to see the installation than Mansfield has ordered to be put
into my house at a cost of ₤120.
Marconi House is a wonderful place. I shall have the machine put in and they
say it will be the most simple to learn, we shall see.
April 1926
- The great airship Norge passed over the village on
the way to Norfolk, and them to Spitzbergen
and the North pole. It left Rome yesterday.
More about . . . Dr Salter
The Essex Chronicle, 1937...
|
ʻYour Essexʼ at Goldhanger |
||
|
The blacksmiths shop ─
the school ─ the Church ─ the Square, yes! This was Goldhanger. I made my way
to Head Street where Mr. W. Wenden lives. He knows
the village well, and I wanted a chat with him - a preface to my visit. Mr. Wenden was in his garden rich in choice apple trees. Goldhanger is noted for its fruit. A chat with Mr. Wenden and I journeyed back towards the Square, calling
at the house of Mr. John Howard, where I learned much about village
yesterdays. Mr. Howard
first attended school held in a room in two cottages. The governess was Mrs. Dennington. Later he went to school at the Old Rectory
where Miss Barlow was the teacher. Sunday school treats, at which roast beef
and plum pudding were served came to mind as he
recalled the past. Scholars took their own plates, knife, fork and jug, and
Mr. Samuel Huxter, the rectorʼs
gardener, and Mr. Collins, the butler, assisted at the gathering.
Conversation
turned to the church choir when Emily Huxter, Emily
Miller, Ernest Hume, John Owers and Anna Miller
were Choristers. Miss Emily Leigh played the harmonium. Mr. Howard remembered
when the singing at the church was led by a barrel organ played by William
Brown, the church clerk. Carol singing with Fred Stokes, Charles Wenden, and William Argent, I heard of, and the joyous
time spent at the farmhouses. Speaking of his early days at work, the name of
Mr. Henry Hobbs of Falcons Hall was mentioned. Mr. Howard worked for him at
the time when William Brown, William Wager, Thomas Halls and William Gardiner
worked there. The 1881 blizzard became a topic of conversation, and I heard
that the wind was so strong that it blew three waggon
loads of wheat over. From Mr. Howardʼs I went to Miss Wendenʼs
home in Fish Street, a street so called I image, because it leads to the sea
wall, where once Samuel Jordan, Joe Wenden, James
Gooch and Tom Miller carried on the fishing industry. Miss Wenden was a pupil at Miss Stowellʼs
private school, which used to be held in a cottage nearly opposite the
present school. Alice Bridge, Patty Scowen and Bob
Bridge were pupils too. Miss Wenden attended the
Wesleyan Sunday School when Mr. Henry Bevis was superintendent and Miss
Alexander a teacher. |
Local preachers of past the who were remembered were Messrs. Robinson (Witham) and
James Freeman, Samuel Stratford, and Joseph Wisbey
(Maldon). Miss Wenden had heard that her grand- father, George
Alexander, a Wesleyan, used to preach in a cottage opposite to the mill. Name
after name came up as we talked of the past: Charles Alexander, coal merchant
and grocer: John Alexander, sheep doctor; Jacob Belsham,
who had the windmill; George Stowell, the butcher;
James Cooper, wheelwright; Charles Hutley,
blacksmith; and William Bateman, shoemaker. I met Mr
Weymouth James Smith, born in Goldhanger in 1849.
His father was a builder and taught him the trade. Talking of his fatherʼs business Mr. Weymouth Smith called to mind
the names of Robert Bruce and Edward Baxter; two employees. At a house
near the Garden Field called to see Mr. Manfred Jordan. His father was a
fisherman and had owned the five-on smack The Diamond. Mr. Jordan remembered
James Bevis, Harry Hover and George Gardiner, all of the Coastguard service.
He recalled too, the time when James Taylor was policeman, and when William
Harvey drove a mail cart from Maldon to Goldhanger.
Mr. Bitten
at The Chequers, and Mr. Caleb Chaplin, who sold beer and baked bread where
the Cricketers Inn is now, were other memories. It was Mr. Jordan who told me
about the fair which used to be held on Whit-Monday and Tuesday when stalls
stood in the street. He spoke, too, about the feast held in the Chequers in
connection with the benefit club. Incidentally I learnt from Mr. Jack Spitty, the host at The Chequers, that an annual feast is
still held in this charming old hostel. Mr.
Jordan worked for Mr. Robert Francis at Joyceʼs
farm when Charles Eve and Job Day worked there. Other farmers he called to
mind were Messrs. John Boyes, William Wakelin,
Thomas Baxter and Thomas Holmes. He remembered William Kettle, the
blacksmith. We fell to talking about the waterside. "A
lot of people get there in the summer. I have seen fifty cars on a Sunday,
people coming down to the water. "
Said Mr. Jordan, whose house is not
far from the approach to the waterside with its attractive view of Osea Island. |
A visit to see a fine old
walnut tree in the garden of Mr. Dewsbury Dessue,
and then I made my way to the Cricketers Inn, part of which years ago was a bakerʼs shop. Mr. McRea,
the host, pointed out to me the bakerʼs
window. Not far from
The Cricketers is the blacksmiths shop carried out by Emeny
Brothers. I met Mrs. Alice Emeny, whose husband had
been at the forge for over half a century. Speaking of those who had been
employed by her husband, Mrs Emeny mentioned Henry
King and Harry Rumsey. Mr. Jack Emeny told me of
the Fifth of November bonfire lit on the stone near the pump in The Square,
and the skittle alleys where women used to bowl for tea and men for tobacco. The Bird in
Hand and The Dolphin, one time beer-houses, were spoken of, and Mr. Henry
Walden, who kept The Cricketers for 46 years. The Rev. C. B. Leigh and Rev.
F. T. Gardner, past rectors at Goldhanger, Mr. Sam
Ellis, the vet, who lived in Maldon, and Dr. J.H. Salter who lives in Tolleshunt DʼArcy, I heard
of, and night journeys to the Doctor along rough flint roads at a time when
carriage lamps were not used. The 1884 earthquake which rattles the shoes
hanging in the forge so they jingled like bells,
formed another topic of conversation. Stokes is a
name you are almost certain to hear if you spend any time in Goldhanger, for the family has been in the village for
many years. I had the pleasure of meeting Messrs. George and Charles Stokes. "My
great-grandfather",
said Mr. George Stokes, "was
the skipper of a sailing ship, and later went into the Preventative Service".
Mr. Stokes had heard tell of smuggling days when the feet of horses were
bound so that the direction they took could not be discovered. I listened to
a century-old smuggling story in which Preventative men found twenty barrels
of spirit on the premises of a man who despite the fact that he disclaimed
any knowledge of the spirit, was sent to prison. Daily in prison he is said
to have received from an unknown benefactor a splendid lunch. Before my
visit to Goldhanger ended, evening shades were
changing the appearance of the blacksmiths shop ─ the school ─
the Church ─ the Square. *** |
The Essex Chronicle, 1938...
by
Ethel Beatrice Page, The Old Rectory, Goldhanger
The
countryside had a mood to-day.
Or so it
seemed to me.
Colour was
drained from earth and sky.
And the river
ran grey to the sea.
Nevertheless. I walked on the wall.
Serene
in hope, for I believe.
Nature -
clever old nurse she is.
Would
have something good up her sleeve.
She let me
into her jewellery store.
A
glorious flash of blue.
As a
kingfisher skimmed the waterʼs
edge
Down by
Goldhanger Shoe.
Maldon & Burnham Standard, 1939...
.
. .this tiny Essex village nestles on one of the
numerous creeks in the Essex coast. The world has passed Goldhanger
by, for it remains today as it was when the English civil war began. Leading
from the village centre is Fish Street, which with its cream washed cottages
might well have been taken from a Cornish village and planted here. . .
The East Anglian Daily Times, 1939...
. . .where river
and country combine there is always a strange fascination, and in Goldhanger this fascination provides full measure and
running over. For here we find not only the salty tang, the invigorating
freshness, ever belonging to the districts where a comparatively important
waterway flows bravely between green marshes; we find all those radiant features,
those homely and pleasant things whose charm, is so infinitely soothing and
delightful to the eye. . .
...Goldhanger in
fact, provides that happy mixture of salt water and fruitful earth, although
perhaps it is the purely rural aspect of the village which provides Goldhangerʼs greatest attraction. Much old timber-work
exists in the habitations, some spacious, but all friendly of aspect and
mellowed by time. Here, indeed, it seems that time itself has stood still, so
that the flowering gardens, veritable patchworks of colour, and presenting that
simple, yet beautiful aspect which far outstrips anything the towns have to
offer, seem to reveal much of the same tranquillity and the untrammelled
designs as they did in days far less hurrying than the present. . .
Essex Countryside magazine, 1955...
. . .Goldhanger
is one of the sunniest and cosiest of the Blackwater
villages. Its large church almost nestles in an avenue of chestnut trees, and
from the churchyard one looks into acres of
"Dʼarcy
Spice" apple orchards sloping down to the waterʼs
edge. Here is the largest
collection of " Dʼarcy Spice " grown in this country. These greeny-brown, rather unattractive apples, but which have
the sweetest flavour, were never a popular apple to grow. But here at Goldhanger the growers are gradually evolving a more
attractive looking apple and at the same time keeping its delicious flavour. .
.
. . .these Blackwater villages, which nestle so comfortably behind
their creeks and saltings, have an air of prosperity
and are very much " on the map." They have a large and growing
yachting and boating clientele, and their oyster trade, fishing, the secrets of
their saltings and their nearness to Maldon and
Colchester give them a certain business and commercial atmosphere, flavoured
very nicely with the salty tang and colour of the riverside, often so blue with
sea lavender or yellow with golden samphire. . .
Heirs to the Kingdom - The Life Story of Charles Rawlinson, 1956
it is not known when this
extract was written, but the context of the original long article suggests 1920
- 1940
The authors were Jane Rawlinson Geertsen
(a descendant) and Dora Bargh (a historian) from the
USA
Charles
Rawlinson, son of Samuel Rawlinson, Jr., and Sara Sorkins
Rawlinson, was born in Goldhanger, Essex, England, March 24, 1816. According to records, the Rawlinsons have lived in this locality for many
generations, even before the Norman conquest. This
particular family seems to have been carpenters, for Charles and his brothers
had been taught carpentry and cabinet making.
Little is
known of his early life. His mother died while he was quite young, but he had a
very fine stepmother, Ann Coker Rawlinson, whom they loved as a mother. Because
of his skill in carpentry he was chosen to help do the fine wood carving on the
banquet tables for the coronation of Queen Victoria, in 1837, during his 21st year.
Between the
ancient market towns of Maldon and Witham (population 6,600 and 3,700,
respectively) is a country of quaint little villages with romantic names -
among them Wickam Bishops, Goldhanger,
and its near neighbors, Little Totham,
Tolleshunt Major, or Beckingham,
as it is commonly called, Tolleshunt Knights, Tolleshunt DʼArcy and Tollesbury. It is a beautiful, peaceful country, not
essentially changed from the days when the Rawlinsons
lived there. A country of farms, woods, historic churches and
mansions, and the home of many quaint customs and superstitions.
Of my week in
Essex, I spent half in Goldhanger and half in Tolleshunt DʼArcy. Buses are
few and far between in these remote villages. I walked eight, ten, or twelve
miles a day, and my journeys took me to many
interesting places and I saw many interesting people. Many a time I have walked
from one village to another without meeting a soul in between, so lonely is
this forgotten corner of England. There are no street lights, no electricity.
It is an awesome experience to find dusk falling on one of these lonely roads
several miles from a village. It is a sight to see each morning the people
bringing buckets and all kinds of conveyances, primitive and otherwise, to the
village pump. This is their only water supply. A forgotten country! It is a
country which the majority of the inhabitants of this over-civilized island
have never known.
I must confess
to my shame that, previous to my visit, I had never heard of Maldon or Witham,
though I had heard praises of the village with the beautiful name, Tolleshunt DʼArcy. I was
glad to find it a convenient centre for my work, for it is as beautiful as its
name. It is old, stately and well kept. In the village, I was told that William
the Conqueror had a house here and that it was he who gave the land to the DʼArcy family, his illegitimate descendants. DʼArcy Hall, a beautiful old moated
house, is still inhabited. The charming lady with whom I stayed was full of DʼArcy lore. Her people had kept the village inn for
generations. Her father was French, and a smuggler in
the days when smuggling was a major industry in Essex. In those days, she told
me, the innumerable creeks of the Essex coast were better known to the French,
Dutch and Portuguese smugglers than they are to the inhabitants of Essex today.
Contraband goods found their way into most Essex homes, high and low. This lady
gave me some of the celebrated DʼArcy spice
apples which fetch a very high price in Maldon and Colchester, where they are
known for their true value. There are only a few trees in existence, and the
legend is that they originated in a parent tree which was planted by William
the Conqueror. I was sorry that I had not time to hear the tales which my new
found friend would have delighted to tell, or to examine their treasured pewter., china, etc., or to learn the mysteries of the
wonderful Essex dishes which she loved to make. I hope that I shall be able to
do so at some future time, also to explore this unique country before the
inevitable happens and it is popularised and spoiled. Incredible as it seems,
it is only forty miles distant from London.
Goldhanger
and Tollesbury are situated on the estuary of the
River Blackwater. Much of the land in the neighborhood is marsh land which has been reclaimed from
the sea. A few generations ago that dread disease, the ague, was a frequent
visitant in Essex homes. Churchyards and parish registers reveal many tragedies
of this plague. The people of this region are mostly engaged in farming,
fishing, or seafaring. I found them a simple, kindly people, willing to give
what assistance they could to my search. Coming from such a great distance with
such a strange request (or so it seemed to them) I gained a certain notoriety.
Sometimes on approaching a perfect stranger I would find that my fame had gone
before me. The hue and cry which I raised for the Rawlinsons
will not soon be forgotten. If I am able to go again, as I hope, I shall find
friends.
The Rector of Tollephunt Knights told me that the Rawlinsons
were a fine stock. There is a pure Saxon strain in Essex, he said, and none are
purer than the Rawlinsons. A
sturdy, healthy breed, seldom ailing, working hard like their fathers before
them and bearing well the rigours of the laborerʼs
life, the type which breed good children and are the salt of England.
Before I had been in Elder House, my "home" at Tolleshunt
Darcy, five minutes I inquired if there were any Rawlinsons
in the neighborhood. The reply was immediate.
"Why, itʼs just peppered with ʼern". And so it was. The first thing I saw at Tiptree was an ice cream cart bearing the name. When I
inquired for Rawlinsons at the Post Office, the
Postmistress was staggered. The name is as common in that little town as Jones
in a Welsh town. It seems likely that they are all related. They are a genuine
old Essex family, marrying and intermarrying in that same country where they
were born and bred.
[Samuel Rawlinson is listed in the 1820 Tithe map
and awards as Carpenter in the wheelwrights shop. "Rollinson, Samuel" is listed in the 1838 Tithe
Awards living in the wheelwrights shop in Church Street next door to Caleb Chaplin, who later
created The Cricketers Inn there. Samuel Rawlinson is also listed both the 1841 and
1851 censusʼs as a carpenter living in Church
Street. There are also several "Cokers" listed at the same time.]
Essex Countryside magazine, 1962...
There
has never been any gold in "Goldangre"
except that made by salt-makers, oyster-dredgers and the scallywags who were
always opening up unlicensed ale-houses with attendant facilities of
"gamming". Of all Goldhangerʼs sins,
smuggling was the least, because the men in a revenue cutter anchored off the
Stumbles had a clear view of anything creeping up the Blackwater!
Furthermore, they could look straight down the narrow Goldhanger
Creek and over one field to St. Peterʼs tall
tower. These times the Creek is a quiet place, for the salt-making, carried on
since Roman times has finished.
Poem written by A W Richards, Goldhanger
postman in 1962...
Goldhanger, the village of my hopes and dreams,
Often Iʼve
seen rainbows, blessing her it seems.
Life brings changes, the weather brings changes too,
Down by the
creek Iʼve
seen storms and sun from the blue.
Heaven sent deep
falls of snow in the old days,
And
winters were severe, with icy ways.
Now as older I grow, I love fields that are green,
Grand memories of them come back serene.
Each spring time I love the scent of godʼs
sweet flowers,
Really Goldhanger has
given happy hours.
The Kingʼs
England - Essex, by Arthur Mee, 1966. . .
Goldhanger. It stands remote, close to the Blackwater estuary, and down by its sea-wall is a mound of
red soil, one of 200 still seen beside the Essex estuaries, sites of potteries
in days before history. In this mound Roman pottery was found in carefully
constructed flues, and the experts say that here some potters settled in Caesarʼs day, working an already ancient site. There
is no doubt that the Romans were here, for their bricks are in the church
walls, set here by Norman hands. The deeply splayed windows of the Normans have
now brilliantly coloured portraits of the saints. The bold tower, the chapel,
and the three-bayed roof of the nave are mediaeval. In the chapel is the altar
tomb of Thomas Heigham and his three wives; one of
their portraits is still in brass on the tomb, showing her in Tudor costume.
The big churchyard, with its many chestnut trees, is a pleasant place to linger
in on an autumn day, when creeper clothes the porch in a glowing mass of red and
gold.
Shell Guide to Essex by Norman Scarfe,
1968. . .
. . .Goldhanger
- Before Norman times "the slope where marsh-marigolds
hung". The main delight now is its creek on the Blackwater
and the walk from Decoy Point over to Osea Island. In
the village the Chequers is a place for tales of wild-fowling and the old
barging days. A wheel turned village pump is still in use at the corner of Head
Street and Church Street. . .
The - Conclusion - from Maura Benhamʼs
Goldhanger - An Estuary Village, published in 1977
. . . Then Goldhanger
moved into the great changes and developments of the 20th century, a period
which calls for a study of its own set in a wider context. . .
Of the village today it is probably true
to say that the people think more of the Triangle than the Square, though the
old part around the Square has achieved the status of a Conservation Area. The
Triangle is formed by Church Street, Maldon Road and Head Street, and much of
the housing is built around h. The space beside the church where the tithe barn
stood is empty today, and the school next to it is likely to close soon. But
the Coastguard Cottages still stand looking across to a meadow opposite, and
further up the road George Emeny has developed his familyʼs forge into a busy engineering workshop
meeting the needs of agricultural machine repair, boat construction and many
other types of ironwork.
In the Square, Bernard Mann carries on his
familyʼs building business, and the Quy family, a name well known for several centuries in
Little Totham and Goldhanger,
provide the village taxi service in Fish Street. More recent in their
foundation arc two valued services: the village shop and Post Office run by the
Abreys on the Maldon Road, and Peter Powerʼs motor engineering workshop opposite the
church. As to public transport, the family firm of Osborne brings buses through
the village on the route between Tollesbury and
Maldon, and Maldon, though deprived of its railway, gives bus services to many
parts of the area including Chelmsford, Colchester and Southend.
The population today is about 700. There
is a Council housing estate and many new privately built houses, some replacing
old cottages and others forming a new fringe to the fields. The Village Hall
took the first new plot in Head Street in 1939, and soon had developments and
replacements on both sides. Some families have been here for generations and
some are newcomers. There is work for a small number within the village, but
many spend their working day outside it, in Maldon or further afield, with a
few commuters driving off in the early morning to catch the London train.
The complete book is at.
. . Maura Benham Book
The Essex Village Book, 1988 - written by members of Goldhanger WI. . .
.
. .There is much to be seen on a visit to the village
of Goldhanger, situated midway between Chelmsford and
Colchester. At the top of Church Street, stand on the larger grass triangle
and, looking up the drive to Folly Faunts, imagine
how it looked when the manor was given to help found Beeleigh
Abbey, close to Maldon, in 1180. Then cross to the smaller triangle and glance
up the drive to the big red brick house, built in 1851/2 by a well-to-do clerical
family to be the rectory. They had good parties there, and entertained Lewis
Carroll. Walk down Church Street and you will see on your right a row of red
brick cottages neatly built to the edge of the road to house four Coastguards
and their families. On the other side is the school building which served us
well from 1875 to 1977; today the children go by bus to a school in Tolleshunt Dʼ Arcy. The Goldhanger building is
now a nursery school with a Christian ethos. . .
..now you are in the centre of the old village, with the 11th
century church, the Chequers pub, very old and of uncertain origin, and the
Square. The inside of the church has been altered over the centuries, but the
two small Norman windows in the north wall give it the 11th century date. Outside,
the stonework shows clearly how in the 15th century they built the tower a few
feet away from the church, and when it was complete knocked down the churchʼs west wall and joined the church to the tower.
. .
.
. .back by the churchyard gate, one finds that the
road takes only half of the old Square, the other half, with a brick wall
making the division, being the Chequers car park (and previously a vegetable
garden). On the north side only the first house shows how the buildings used to
face on to the Square; the next three have taken a piece for their front
gardens, again defined by the brick walls that marked out the village, probably
in the latter part of the first half of the 19th century. . .
.
. .all this would have mattered more over 640 years
ago, for they needed a big square with the pump in the middle, not on the
pavement as it is today. In 1348 the lord of the manor got royal permission for
a market Thursday, and at the same time for an annual fair which included for
sale ribbons, gingerbread and knick-knacks, held in the 18th century on 14th
May and later on Whit Monday. Nowadays we block off that stretch of road and so
use half the old Square for the May Fair on the Bank Holiday in May.
The District Chronicle, 1989. . .
. . .Goldhanger
may not be the busy fishing village it once was but itʼs
still a popular haunt for holidaymakers and day trippers out to sample
waterside tranquillity. Commuters have discovered the delight of Goldhanger too, travelling just 20 minutes to a mainline
station from a community which gives the impression or being well off the
beaten track. So now there are sports cars and Mercedes outside the former fishermanʼs cottages in Fish Street and the old
bakers, blacksmiths, butchers, fishing and post-office have closed along with
two of the four original village pubs which have been converted into expensive
homes. . .
Maldon & Burnham Standard,
1993. . .
.
. .Goldhanger is a timeless
village. It has a proud past, but there are fears about what the future will
hold. Nestling close to the River Blackwater, name
such as Fish Street recall the days when fish would be carried from the seawall
to the village centre, then livelier than much of the time it is today. . .
Essex Countryside magazine, 1996. . .
.
. .this attractive estuary village, once an important
fishing centre, has many reminders of its past, not least of which is the name
of its church, dedicated to St Peter, the patron saint of fishermen. The name
of the village itself has been a matter for .discussion over the years. the expertsʼ favourite
explanation is that Goldhanger describes golden
flowers on grassland. . .
.
. .Outside the church of St Peter, three old streets
join in a wide space still called The Square. This would have been the centre
of village activity until the early years of this century and the village pump
can still be seen here. Beside the pump is a semicircular slab of granite,
which clearly is not local. Archaeologists have concluded that it comes from
Devon and was probably a cider mill stone, brought by sea in two pieces. . .
East Anglian Daily Times, 1999...
. . .The only
substantial reminder of Goldhangerʼs historical
connection with the fishing trade is the quaintly named Fish Street. Although
situated on a creek, Goldhanger gives the impression
of an inland village, with the village pump, church and pub clustered
picturesquely round a spacious square. But the smell of salt water is in the
air, and from upper windows some lucky villagers have a spectacular view of the
Blackwater and nearby Osea
Island. Despite limited expansion, Goldhangerʼs
population stands at roughly the same level now as at the time of the Domesday survey. The village is full of life and activity,
with a range of facilities that puts many larger villages to shame...
The Salty Shore by John Leather published in 2003
.
. .A field at The head of Thirslet
Creek is called Red Hill and was the site of ancient salt making, once a
widespread occupation on the shores of the Blackwater.
The word "saltings", describing marsh which
is subject to covering by the tides, indicates the origins of the salt boilersʼ trade and salt pans were worked in many
places beside the Blackwater. Salt water was pumped
into clay- lined tanks to commence evaporation, which was completed in shallow
trays of partly evaporated water. heated over fires of
brushwood and later of seaborne coal. After rock salt was discovered and mined
in Cheshire. about 1670, the salt makers used it to
increase production by dissolving it in sea water, and the solution was then
re-evaporated by boiling. Salt making was also carried on at Goldhanger, a small village upstream from Thirslet Creek and was transferred from there to Heybridge about 1810, probably because of the attraction of
the Chelmer canal for transport. By 1894 Maldon salt
works was the only one remaining in Britain. It continues to flourish and sends
quality table salt to many countries.
Goldhanger
village lies at the head of a shallow creek between Tollesbury
and Heybridge. It does not seem to have had many
maritime associations beyond occasional fishing, smuggling, the
loading and unloading of barges with agricultural cargoes in the days of sail.
However, it is an ancient village which for many years had a population of 500.
The Will of George Osborde, a Goldhanger
fisherman, dated 1575, left a "half boat", a "bream net", a
"new vag nec"
and other gear to "my brother in law Heard". The netʼs
descriptions arc now obscure but could have been a beam trawl and a seine net.
The two surnames are interestingly local today, for Osborde
must surely have been contemporary spelling of Osborne and at least one
fisherman named Heard still lives in Goldhanger.
Few
dramatic events took place in this peaceful place excepting the occasional
smuggling run or the great tide in 1736 which burst the sea walls, drowning
cattle, sheep and five men, including John Cooper, a decoy man. There were at
one time four wild duck decoys at Goldhanger, typical
of the many on the coasts and rivers of Essex, Suffolk and Norfolk, which were
worked for gain rather than sport.
"Zeppelins over Essex" by
Bill Meehan, published in Essex Life in the 2003. . .
. . .There is no
visible trace left today to indicate that there was once a busy operational
fighter airfield within a mile of Goldhanger village.
It was located alongside the B1026, on the south side of the road, in the
fields adjacent to Gardenerʼs Farm. The clue to
this important piece of military history lies in the centre of the village, in
the graveyard of St Peterʼs Church. Here you
will find two Commonwealth War Graves Commission headstones, where Second
Lieutenants Sydney Armstrong and Frederick Crowley are buried. . .
. . .St Peterʼs Church is a tall and imposing building with
11th Century origins and a 15th Century tower. The tower can be seen from a
long way out in the wide Blackwater River and has
served as a useful navigation mark for sailors for hundreds of years. A public
footpath starts at a kissing gate, into the churchyard and thence through two
rows of yew trees to an unusual little stile in the far churchyard wall. . .
. . .Spare a
thought and perhaps a smile and a cheery wave, for the two pilots as you walk
through. The footpath leads on to a delightful walk around fields to the
seawall, back via the playing field at the bottom of Goldhangerʼs
Fish Street and thence to your starting point at the church - twenty minutes if
you step out, forty if you dawdle. If you go in summer youʼll
see larks rising, hovering and falling. In October to March, with luck, youʼll see the Brent Geese who come here from Siberia
to spend the winter every year. You may see them feeding at the waterʼs edge as the tide recedes or flying in
formation overhead. . .
. . .The view you
will have across the Blackwater to Osea island will be as it was when the pilots of C Flight,
37 Squadron, saw it when on patrol in 1916-18. When you have completed your
walk and arrived back at the church, you will find that the Chequers Inn is
right next door, should you need sustenance.
More
about. . . The Goldhanger Flight Station
A poem written by David Webb for the bellringerʼs
Church service in 2005...
Oh what are you ringing
you Goldhanger ringers;
Is it to Matins you
summon your friends;
Whoʼll
call the change which will signal your ending,
Whoʼll
grasp the sally as the tenor bell ends?
How greatly your voice can
embellish a nuptial
With tintabulation
from the treble you sing.
Tʼis
no coincidence that the bride and her consort
Are
each proudly shining their bright golden ring.
Or is it the cry of a
baby new christened
Will call each of the
ringers to loosen a rope
To ring the godparents
and friends and relations
To
the thrill and delight of Christʼs message of Hope?
Only one pair of hands
for the tolling bell is needed
To say fond farewell to
a friend whom we love,
But imagine the tumult,
of joy and of welcome,
Which
peals out from the belfry in Heaven above.
ʼTo
God be the gloryʼ
is our constant injunction,
Itʼs
fixed in our hearts by the hymn that we sing
In nervous beginnings,
in practised performance,
It
is only to you Lord, in praise, that we ring.
Goldhanger Historic Settlement Assessment by Teressa
OʼConnor, Essex County Council, in 2007
Cropmarks and other evidence indicate that the area of the
lower Blackwater was occupied throughout prehistory. Goldhanger sits within this swathe of cropmark
complexes. . . There is evidence of occupation of the gravel terraces to the
north of the Blackwater from the early Neolithic
period at sites such as The Stumble off the coast of Goldhanger.
. . The stretch of coast along the Blackwater at Goldhanger has one of the highest densities of red hills
dating from the late Iron Age and Roman period.
Field names help give some indication of landscape
history of the parish where other evidence is lacking.
. .many include Marsh or Mead indicating the former extent of the marsh along
the coast .. there are many references to decoy fields.
. . .there are mentions of Honey field near Bounds
Farm and Honey pasture close to Follyfaunts
indicating where beehives have been kept.
The extent of the medieval village is based on the 1777
Chapman and Andre map. It shows a nucleated village located at the end of a creek. . .the number of people in the Domesday
Book is 45...by the end of the medieval period only 49 people as listed
according to the Lay Subsidy of 1524 . . The coastal marshes provided pasture
for sheep, then valued not only for mutton and wool, but also for ewes milk.
Henry VIII granted the farm of Fawlty
to Charles Brandon. Duke of Suffolk in 1538. It was
sold on soon after to Robert Trapps and son Nicholas.
When these had both died the estate was passed on through the daughters and
various parts sold off. In 1768 it was in the ownership of Charles Coe of
Maldon who owned the Maldon saltworks. He was part of
the Coape family who, during the 18th-19th centuries
had seats and/or estates at Wolvey Halt,
Warwickshire, Goldhanger, Essex and Ashby St Ledgers,
Northamptonshire. In 1855 much of the estate was sold off at auction, the
estate consisted of many farms including Vaultys as
well as the decoys. Barrow Hill Marsh mills and Osey Island. On the basis of similar settlements it
is anticipated that archaeological deposits and features can be anticipated to
have survived in this historic village settlement.
More in. . . Historic Settlement Assessment Extracts
Goldhanger Conservation Area Review, written and published by Essex County
Council in 2007
Goldhanger Conservation Area encompasses the historic core of
the rural, estuarine village, focussed on the 11th century church of St Peter
and neighbouring 16th century Chequers pub. The historic settlement is a very
good nucleated village with all the traditional village elements: church, pub,
Victorian school, rectory and pump, although the shops have only survived in
vestigial forms. Its history is intimately linked to its setting at the head of
an estuarine creek, giving access to the river for fishing and transport. The
surrounding landscape supported a prosperous rural economy based on agriculture
and wildfowl. Bypassed by the main road, the heart of the settlement is
peaceful and unspoilt.
. . .The layout of the
village follows a historic road pattern where Head Street meets Church Street
running north and Fish Street running south towards the sea wall, where it
terminates. Towards the top of Head Street the road widens to create a broad
open area known as The Square with the village wheel pump, and this is a
distinctive element in the street scene. Despite significant 20th century
infilling and replacement dwellings, the conservation area retains a rich and
varied historic built environment. Properties span the centuries, exhibiting a
variety of traditional building methods and materials, of which soft red brick
and handmade clay tiles notably add warmth, colour and texture to the street
scene.
. . .The conservation area is
given cohesion and a sense of identity by the common use of low red brick
boundary walls to properties. Attractive hedge boundaries and trees also
contribute to a strong green and rural character, particularly along Fish
Street. The contrast between the intimate enclosure of the village settlement
and the occasional expansive views of the surrounding flat arable landscape,
sea wall and estuary creates visual drama, particularly from within the
churchyard.
There is a link to the complete document in. . . External Links
Maldon District Council website, 2013
Goldhanger - The great outdoors
by Malcolm Brown
Located to the north side of the River Blackwater, at the head of a small creek is Goldhanger. The place-name Goldhanger
is first attested in the Domesday Book of 1086, where
it appears as Goldhangra. The name means slope where
marigold grew, from the Old English golde meaning
marigold. This traditional village is steeped in history, with many privately
owned period buildings in a charming Conservation Area. It is not hard to
imagine how this tranquil village had a thriving and often shady past. With
many small Ale houses previously in the village, smuggling is well documented
with tales of floating rafts down the Blackwater, and
brandy being carried from the Estuary up Fish Street, on horses whose hooves
had been muffled with cloth.
The church of St Peter - a fine example of a Norman
church is the focal point of the village and boasts a stunning stained glass
window creating a majestic view when lit at night. Near the Chequers public
house is the old village pump recently restored and winner of a Maldon District
Conservation award.
Goldhanger has oyster lays, where young oysters are bred in beds
to be sold commercially. This part of the District features some of the most
remote places where fishermen, birdwatchers, ramblers and painters can be alone
with nature. A circular walk is available from the Maldon District Tourist
Information Centre that guides you both on the coastal path and through
stunning farm land. If you time it right as the light is fading, you will often
see a pair of Barn Owls flying low across the flat reeds looking for food.
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