Went to London again this morning, and bought the 6 wagons for £110. I felt afterwards I had been rather weak, but anyway I was glad to have them. There was a bit of fog early, but afterwards the weather was lovely. Whitechapel was a mass of colour, stalls selling flowers, gay coloured women’s clothes, crowds of Jews parading along the wide pavements.
In the afternoon went to see the [Mann Crossman & Paulin] Brewery stables again, as all the horses were in. I had hoped Joanna Round would have come with me, but she did not turn up. However, Mr. Sweeting very kindly showed me everything. The hundred odd horses, the wagons, the beautiful harness. The horses are kept in three places now, in the old stables and in two different stables under the main L.N.E.R. line in Brady St. Quite near the line there are areas of one or two acres which are quite devastated, not a brick remaining, yet on one side of Brady Street there are several gigantic blocks of flats quite untouched, with not even the windows cracked. It would seem that the effect of some bombs in congested parts is very local. It is a terrifying thing to think of the masses of poor people herded into these parts, with virtually no protection whatever, nothing but a few miserable tin shelters in their tiny gardens, or else horrible brick surface shelters, pitch dark, smelling like lavatories, and perfect death traps when improperly built, as so many of them are. Yet these people, with all their suffering, will cheer Churchill until they’re hoarse.
Back on early train, feeling much better than I did last trip.
10th March 1942
On my way to Boxted this evening I called upon the Rector of Mile End, and spoke to him about the correspondence which had appeared in the local press regarding the proper form of the name, - “Mile End” or “Myland”.
He is a rather silly little man, very opinionated, and will have it that “Myland” is correct, in spite of all the evidence to the contrary. The old church was of course about a mile from the centre of Colchester, whereas the present one is nearly two. Probably the centre of population moved up the hill onto the Heath at the time of the enclosures, thus causing the old church to decay.
Home to the Castle at 11.30pm, through a thick mist, the town very silent, with a solitary searchlight waving over it to the south.
The names Myland or Mile End have been used concurrently since 1130 according to the Parish of Myland website.
He is a rather silly little man, very opinionated, and will have it that “Myland” is correct, in spite of all the evidence to the contrary. The old church was of course about a mile from the centre of Colchester, whereas the present one is nearly two. Probably the centre of population moved up the hill onto the Heath at the time of the enclosures, thus causing the old church to decay.
Home to the Castle at 11.30pm, through a thick mist, the town very silent, with a solitary searchlight waving over it to the south.
The names Myland or Mile End have been used concurrently since 1130 according to the Parish of Myland website.
8th March 1942
Fine and warm. Office in the morning, and in the afternoon cycled to Fordham to see how Bob was getting on. Much relieved to find him well and fit. Old Mr. Findlay insists on giving him oats. Being so near Romney’s Farm, I cycled on to there, past a derelict wind-mill, and a rather nice timber framed house called Josselyns, now quite decayed. It is still able to be restored.
Got back to Colchester by 6.30. This evening called at Seymour’s. Conversation about the present state of the school [Colchester Royal Grammar School], from which I gathered that one of the temporary women teachers had become insane.
Got back to Colchester by 6.30. This evening called at Seymour’s. Conversation about the present state of the school [Colchester Royal Grammar School], from which I gathered that one of the temporary women teachers had become insane.
7th March 1942
Terrible, bitter, cold, day. Biting north wind. Everything frozen solid, and no water in the Castle again.
Took Bob over to Fordham this morning. I have never been so cold for years, in fact it made me feel quite ill. Stabled Bob at Houd’s Farm. Got there in 1 and a half hours from Bourne Mill. Stable not very satisfactory, as it is really a two-stall cowshed with a channel across the middle. Old Mr. Findlay, the farmer, was very affable, although I could understand only very little of his Scottish dialect. Met the Roses in their little car and they brought me back to Colchester. Later we all had tea at Church Walk.
Hull has now retired completely from all museum firewatching (in fact from almost all museum duties of any kind). This is now causing a good deal of unpleasantness among the men, especially as they now have to put in duty on Saturday mornings as well.
There will come a time when something must be done about Castle watching. I really will not spend a third summer under the same conditions. I believe a good summer this year would pull me up tremendously.
It seems there is to be an exhibition in the Castle all next week in connection with the Borough “Navy Week”. I fear for the safety of the agricultural exhibits. It would certainly be ironical to have them broken by carelessness in our own building, after taking them all over Essex so many times in safety.
We got permission today from Writtle to buy the wagons.
Took Bob over to Fordham this morning. I have never been so cold for years, in fact it made me feel quite ill. Stabled Bob at Houd’s Farm. Got there in 1 and a half hours from Bourne Mill. Stable not very satisfactory, as it is really a two-stall cowshed with a channel across the middle. Old Mr. Findlay, the farmer, was very affable, although I could understand only very little of his Scottish dialect. Met the Roses in their little car and they brought me back to Colchester. Later we all had tea at Church Walk.
Hull has now retired completely from all museum firewatching (in fact from almost all museum duties of any kind). This is now causing a good deal of unpleasantness among the men, especially as they now have to put in duty on Saturday mornings as well.
There will come a time when something must be done about Castle watching. I really will not spend a third summer under the same conditions. I believe a good summer this year would pull me up tremendously.
It seems there is to be an exhibition in the Castle all next week in connection with the Borough “Navy Week”. I fear for the safety of the agricultural exhibits. It would certainly be ironical to have them broken by carelessness in our own building, after taking them all over Essex so many times in safety.
We got permission today from Writtle to buy the wagons.
4th March 1942: London in Wartime
To London, to find harvest carts. Caught 7.32, in a fine drizzle. Felt ill almost as soon as I got on the bus to go to the station. Liverpool Street soon after 9. Went to Hamilton House to see the LNER Traffic Office about old railway drays. Vast labyrinth of corridors, all painted in yellow and chocolate, lit by solitary unshaded bulbs. Old fashioned lift, worked by counter weights and a rope. Could get nothing very definite there.
At Whitechapel Road took a trolley bus to Brady Street. London Hospital still standing, but the old almshouses near Brady Street are damaged and stand fallow and empty.
Went along Brady St. to Johnson’s Yard at the bottom. Many Mann, Crossman and Paulin’s teams standing in their loading bays, some three-horse (unicorns). Odd to see a devastated site at the back of the brewery, yet the huge modern flats on both sides of the street are untouched, not even showing broken windows.
Johnson’s Yard is alongside the line, in fact the stables are actually in arches under the railway itself. I must have ridden over them dozens of times on journeys to and from London. In the yard was a black she-goat, obviously in kid. The rain was harder now, and the whole yard ran with water, which made little rivulets among the cobble stones. A fat very cross-eyed stableman came forward out of one of the arches, and I told him what I wanted. He promised me 6 old coal-trolleys, but I doubt if we shall hear any more from him. Had a long talk about horses. He thought the future of horses very doubtful, prophesied they would all be off the road in a few years. He said that Mann, Crossman’s lost 37 horses in a raid. I afterwards found the number to have been 25.
Went to Norway Wharf, Commercial Road. Went through endless dull, dirty streets, the rain still teaming, full of bomb holes, demolished sites, emergency water tanks, shelters, Yiddish signs, Yiddish shops and papers, Jews everywhere. Among dozens of others I noticed the names Skotniki, Cohen, Cohan, Bergmann, Wiseman, Dorée, and, most delightful of all, Spector. [EJR found the carts he wanted to buy in readiness for the harvest at stables at Norway Wharf and the details of this visit are recounted in his book].
Left the stables. Tube to Charing Cross, and went on to the Embankment to look at the river. Went into the National Gallery. There was an exhibition of Yeats and Nicholson, most curiously juxtapositioned. Yeats I did not like at all, but Nicholson’s drawings are most delightful, Victorian and Edwardian things.
Then on to Burlington House. Royal Archaeological Institute meeting well attended. I spoke again about raid damage to churches. Saw [Philip] Corder [a fellow archaeologist], and had a long talk. Had tea in the Haymarket, same place as I have often done. No damage to see in this area except Jermyn St. and St. James’ Church and a shop in Piccadilly. Home 7.30, very tired, but feeling better than when I went.
At Whitechapel Road took a trolley bus to Brady Street. London Hospital still standing, but the old almshouses near Brady Street are damaged and stand fallow and empty.
Went along Brady St. to Johnson’s Yard at the bottom. Many Mann, Crossman and Paulin’s teams standing in their loading bays, some three-horse (unicorns). Odd to see a devastated site at the back of the brewery, yet the huge modern flats on both sides of the street are untouched, not even showing broken windows.
Johnson’s Yard is alongside the line, in fact the stables are actually in arches under the railway itself. I must have ridden over them dozens of times on journeys to and from London. In the yard was a black she-goat, obviously in kid. The rain was harder now, and the whole yard ran with water, which made little rivulets among the cobble stones. A fat very cross-eyed stableman came forward out of one of the arches, and I told him what I wanted. He promised me 6 old coal-trolleys, but I doubt if we shall hear any more from him. Had a long talk about horses. He thought the future of horses very doubtful, prophesied they would all be off the road in a few years. He said that Mann, Crossman’s lost 37 horses in a raid. I afterwards found the number to have been 25.
Went to Norway Wharf, Commercial Road. Went through endless dull, dirty streets, the rain still teaming, full of bomb holes, demolished sites, emergency water tanks, shelters, Yiddish signs, Yiddish shops and papers, Jews everywhere. Among dozens of others I noticed the names Skotniki, Cohen, Cohan, Bergmann, Wiseman, Dorée, and, most delightful of all, Spector. [EJR found the carts he wanted to buy in readiness for the harvest at stables at Norway Wharf and the details of this visit are recounted in his book].
Left the stables. Tube to Charing Cross, and went on to the Embankment to look at the river. Went into the National Gallery. There was an exhibition of Yeats and Nicholson, most curiously juxtapositioned. Yeats I did not like at all, but Nicholson’s drawings are most delightful, Victorian and Edwardian things.
Then on to Burlington House. Royal Archaeological Institute meeting well attended. I spoke again about raid damage to churches. Saw [Philip] Corder [a fellow archaeologist], and had a long talk. Had tea in the Haymarket, same place as I have often done. No damage to see in this area except Jermyn St. and St. James’ Church and a shop in Piccadilly. Home 7.30, very tired, but feeling better than when I went.
3rd March 1942
Glorious fine night, with a full, brilliant moon. Rather cold. No German planes about, only one or two RAF machines cruising about.
1st March 1942
Cycled over to Dedham and Lawford today. Had tea at Parringtons and supper with the Sissons. Several hours pleasant talk, then home in brilliant moonlight to the Oven [ie: the cell at the Castle].
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