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Blackmore Area Local History
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Mountnessing
"Mountney, the owner, and ing (meadow): Mounteney's
meadow"
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| Webpage devoted to Mountnessing: people
and
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Willingale |
Writtle |
| Contents |
| Church Restoration, 1889. Taken from Essex Newsman |
| Mountnessing in
1845 |
| Mountnessing in
1861 |
| Mountnessing in
1887 |
Mountnessing
Windmill
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| Parish Registers |
| Postcards of Mountnessing |
| Retrospect:
looking back to the turn of the twentieth century |
| Then and Now:
pictures |
| Thoby Priory
(in 1845) |
| For more
information on Mountnessing, follow this link to the
blackmorehistory.blogspot: Mountnessing |
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Mountnessing in 1887
The following is taken from ‘Durrant’s Handbook For
Essex’, written by Miller
Christy
(Durrant & Co., Chelmsford, 1887).
Mountnes’sing.
A. 4005; P.
874; Vicarage, value £135; 2m. S.W. from Ingatestone.
This parish, a very
picturesque one, anciently belonged to the Mountney
family, whence its name – Mountney’s Ing, or Meadow. The Church (St Leonard or St Giles)
is a poor and very
small, regular edifice, the nave of which was erected about 1280. The nave has both aisles,
which render it
almost square. The
same roof covers the
whole. Over the W.
end is a bell-turret,
to support which a framework has been erected within.
The walls, in which Roman tiles are visible,
are supported by heavy and unsightly brick buttresses.
All the windows, except the E. one, which is
Perp., are extremely poor, being square and of wood. The aisles have
dormer
windows in the roof. Both
N. and S.
doors are pointed. The
former is closed,
but has a grating. The
latter also has a
grating, and one of its iron bands appears to have once been inscribed. The porch is rather rude,
and chiefly of
timber. The chancel
is a modern one of
brick. The arches
of the aisles are
pointed and supported by low massive cylindrical columns, perhaps of
Norman
age. The capitals
of those on the S.
side are plainly moulded, but those on the N. are carved, one showing
well-executed foliage and a human face, in deep relief, the mouth
fettered by
an iron bridle, probably in reference a passage to Psalm xxxix. The
font is a low and perfectly plain octagonal one.
Beside it, for many years, has reclined a
large elephant’s or mammoth’s rib-bone, rather over
4ft. long. There
are many mural monuments. The
Registers commence in 1654. Thoby
Priory was founded about 1145 by the
joint action of several members of the De Capra family, and takes its
name from
the first prior, Tobias or Toby by name.
It was dedicated to the Virgin Mary and St Leonard, and was
occupied by monks of the
Order of St Augustine. No portion of the
original building now remains, but part of the later one still stands,
and
other parts have been incorporated with the adjoining large modern
residence
still known by the same name. The
plan
of the monastic buildings, which formed a square, may still be traced. On the S. side stood the
church; and on the
N. the cloisters; and on the W. the prior’s house and
monks’ reflectory. Of
the latter, a large and lofty room, the
greater part still remains, being incorporated with the modern house. It is, however, much
disfigured by modern
windows and a plaster ceiling which hides the fine old oak roof. The church formerly
comprised of a nave, with
a S., and probably also a N., aisle and a lofty chancel without aisles. The part which still
stands is probably of
the 14th cent., and shows the S. window of the
chancel, together
with the first arch and its columns, and a portion of the second arch
of the S.
arcade of the nave. The
lower portion of
the effigy of a Knight Templar, probably one of the De Capras, and
other
relics, including six rude oak coffins, have turned up in the immediate
vicinity.
Pictures: (Top) St
Giles' Church, Mountnessing, with War Memorial. (2)
Inside St Giles' Church - an illustration from Suckling's Memorials
and Antiquities of Essex, 1846. (3) Thoby Priory - from
Suckling.
(4) Coffin found at Thoby Priory - from Suckling.
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Mountnessing in 1861
The following is taken from ‘The People’s History
of Essex’ written
by D. W. Coller
(Meggy & Chalk, Chelmsford, 1861).
MOUNTNESSING
– THOBY PRIORY – Returning in a southerly direction
[from Blackmore]
to the high road, at about a mile from Ingatestone we come to
Mountnessing. It is
a small scattered
village, in the centre of a rather extensive parish, which reaches
Shenfield at
one point and up to the town of Billericay on another. Here we come upon the site
of another of the
old monastic institutions – Thoby Priory, of which time and
better taste have
left us some interesting ruins. The
Priory was founded in the reign of King Stephen in 1141, or within ten
years
after, by the family of De Capra, several members of which united for
the
purpose; and it took its name from its first prior, Tobias or Toby. It was dedicated to the
Virgin Mary and St Leonard, and was
inhabited by monks of the
Augustine order. Its
endowments
consisted of the great tithe of he parish, 497 acres of land, and about
27
acres of copyhold. The
priory buildings
formed a square, on the south side of which stood the church, of which
the arch
of the south window of the chancel, and the first arch and its columns
of the
southern arcade of the nave, still remain; but these are of a much
later date
than the original monastery. The
cloisters were on the north. The
reflectory stood on the west, and the festal hall of the banished monks
has
been preserved nearly entire, being incorporated, with other portions
of the
buildings, into the present mansion, though disfigured by modern sash
windows,
and the fine roof hidden by barbaric plaster.
The whole plan of the priory may still be traced;
and the ground about
it has been found rich with its ruins.
The chance plunges with a spade have at different
times brought to light
objects of much antiquarian interest.
Part of the figure of the Knight Templar was some
years since turned up
beneath the garden mould, the armour, recumbent lion, and the drapery
being
after the usual pattern of these monuments; but there is this singular
fact
about it, that it is composed of plaster moulded on an iron frame. Suckling supposes it was
dedicated to the
memory of some knight of the family of Mountney or De Capra, connected
with the
priory in the crusading times. Near
the
cloisters, too, have been dug up six coffins, formed from the trunks of
oak
trees, scooped out, and charred, the bark still remaining on some of
them; and
Mr. Grant, the then occupant, had boxes and ornaments made out of the
wood,
which was found capable of high polish.
Two of the coffins, which were opened, were found to
contain perfect
skeletons of females. Knives
of bone,
with ivory handles, coins, and ornamented floor tiles, have also been
turned
up; and, says a recent writer, “so little has curiosity been
gratified here,
that the principal antiquarian treasures of this fallen pile remain to
be
developed at a future day.”
Wolsey, who,
although a cardinal, could make a luncheon of a monastic institution,
had
grasped the priory in 1525; but on his fall it came to the crown. At the suppression it was
valued at £75. 6s.
10½d., which it has been calculated put the land at 2s. an
acre, though under
the good culture of the monks it had become the richest in the parish. It was granted first to
Sir Richard Page;
then it came to the family of Prescot, and passed by marriage to that
of
Blencowe, who still own it. It
is now
occupied by Mr. Vickerman.
Of
the five manors in the parish, three
belong to Lord Petre. Bacons,
the
residence of William Havers, Esq., which lies near Ingatestone Hall,
received
its name from Edmund Bacon and his brother, who possessed it in the
reign of
Edward I., and by royal licence formed an extensive park around it,
which,
however, agricultural advancement has long since brought into
profitable
cultivation. Mountneys,
or Mountnessing
Hall, which stands on a slight eminence near the church, a mile and a
half from
the village, and took its name from an ancient family in the county,
located
here in the reign of King Stephen, had of old a park, which is also
laid out in
rich pastures and arable fields. Cowbridge
belonged to the Abbey of Stratford Langthorne, and was part of
the spoil appropriated to Sir Richard Rich, whose family sold it to Sir
William
Petre. The owner of
Thoby is lord of Arnolds, whose
mansion-house is a large and
venerable pile. The
church, which was
appropriated to Thoby Priory, is a neat and convenient building of the
time of
Edward I., though an antiquarian writer has described its chancel as
“a
barbarous modern erection of red brick.”
Amongst the monuments in the sacred building are
several to the Blencowe
and Prescot families, the former residents of Thoby; and on a plain
stone in
the chancel appears the following, in old English characters:
“17
Decembris, 1583.
“Layde
here aloone all dedde in tooeme John
Peers of Arnollde Hall,
Awaitheth
for the daye of dooime till Christe
hym up shall call,
Whose tyme
now paste on earth well spente
hath gotten hym good name,
His
honest lyfe and governmente deserved well the same,
God
grannte that his good dealyne may to us example be
Of
Mountneysinge that rightelie say an honest man was he.”
Leaning
against the font is a fossil rib bone, four feet and three
quarters long, dug up some years ago in the parish.
Village tradition and credulity assert it to
be that of a giant, once an inhabitant of the village, and respecting
whose
doings strange tales used to be current round the winter
evening’s cottage
fire; but probably the anatomist and the geological would tell us that
the
relic is that of a whale, or a remnant of an elephant or the mammoth,
that in
former conditions of the earth trod the soil.
There is a school in the parish endowed with a farm
of 17a. 3r. 16p.,
called Punchons, left by John and Amy English, in 1787.
The poor have the rent of a field of six
acres, purchased with money left by E. Canning in 1681; and five roods
of land
left by an unknown donor.
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| Postcards of Mountnessing |
Retrospect: looking back to the
turn of the twentieth century
A talk given by
W.W.Reed, Esq.,
M.Sc., F.R.I.C. the year after his retirement in 1950.
In accepting
the very kind
invitation of your Society to address them I am conscious of few
qualifications
to do so. The idea that I should have a fund of interesting experiences
to draw
on is unfortunately incorrect and the blame for that, in part, rests on
those
of you who studied at, what is now, the City College [City College,
Norwich was
where Walter Reed was a teacher. His talk was probably given to the
Debating
Society],
for you were generally such
well behaved people that life flowed very calmly, and I have had few
highlights. However, on looking back over my life I came to the
conclusion
that, though I am not an old man yet, the sixty-five years of my life
have seen
some wonderful changes, and I will try to put them before you as the
youngest
ones of you may be interested in them and the older ones, of my
generation, be
drawn to speak of the past from your angle.
As I was born in 1885,
two years before Queen Victoria’s
first Jubilee, I am a Victorian -
a term of reproach in the eyes of very modern folk. At the time I was
born,
outside the chartered boroughs, local government was practically non
existent;
there were, it is true, Boards of Guardians to look after the poor; the
annual
vestry which elected Church Wardens, and in London, outside the
city, authorities
dealing with sewers and drains. In Education, School Boards, created in
1870,
existed when people demanded them, and probably more than half the
countryside
had none. The schools were in general denominational schools supported
by
voluntary rates. I cannot remember the inception of County Councils and
R.D.C.s
but I can remember the first P.C. (Parish Council) as my father was a
member of
that of our Parish. If you ask me how we were governed locally in the
county at
the time that I was born, I will venture to suggest the answer that it
was by
the Justices in Quarter Sessions.
I was born
in a large
parish - Mountnessing; one of the largest in Essex, about five miles by
two-and-a-half, traversed by the Roman Road, as it is called on some
maps, with
one part abutting Billericay and reached by meandering lanes. The
village lay
for three-quarters of a mile along the main road. The Parish Church was
one-and-a-half miles away on the road to Billericay, but there was an
Iron Church
in a lane close to the village, and two chapels - Congregational and
Wesleyan -
in the village street, but the latter closed in the early nineties.
There were
no large residential land owners, but the parsonage house of the
parish, in my
young day, was let to a military gentleman, a Major in the Regular
Army, who
was shortly made a Lt. Col. of Militia. He was reputed to have little
money but
his wife, a member of an old Banking family, was believed to be
comfortably
off; but he was very public minded and it was due to his energy that
£2.000 was
raised to restore the Parish Church which re-opened in 1891. I can
remember going
to the re-opening service. Owing, possibly, to the absence of a Squire
there
was a very independent spirit politically among the men I knew and
possibly
most of those not working directly for a farmer were Radicals, as we
called
them then.
I was born
in a Manor House [Arnold’s
Farm]. Not long before three or
four gentlemen arrived and explained to my mother that they wanted to
hold a
Court and with permission used our drawing-room. After ushering them
in, my
mother withdrew, but was told not to do so as it was a public court. I
believe
these Courts functioned until the coming into force of Lord
Birkenhead’s Land
Act in (?) 1924. Copyhold tenure of course dated back to Norman times
and had
unexpected repercussions. Soon after my birth my parents moved to
another house
which had, for the size, a large number of sheds including one which
had been a
cowshed. It was originally roofed with tiles which had been largely
blown off.
The wooden slats were broken in a big storm one night. As my father had
very
little use for it he suggested that the shed should be demolished but
the
landlord reluctantly could not agree as he said the property was
copyhold - so
he roofed it for us in corrugated iron.
Our
drinking water at
that house was drawn by permission from a shallow well on property
across the
road. It was later “condemned” - we never drank it
unboiled. For washing and
other domestic purposes we used rain water collected in butts, and when
they
dried, which was not often, we brought water from a pond 150 yards
away. On one
occasion I can remember our going a mile away one very dry summer to
get water
from a brook so that we could have some sort of sponge bath.
Incidentally,
later on, we had to get our drinking water from the school well six
hundred
yards away. (My father was the village schoolmaster). It is heavy work
carrying
two 2-gallon pails of water that distance - we never used a yoke as was
done on
some farms locally, but we did find that a large hoop, one of our play
things,
kept the pails conveniently from our legs, and often used it. There is
now a
very deep well sunk into the green and which supplies piped water to
the
village.
The village
was almost self-supporting.
There was the old windmill reached by a two hundred yards chase perched
on an
artificial mound and the cottagers used to have their gleaning corn
ground
there. We had our general shop where one could buy groceries, boots and
shoes, ironmongery,
drapery, etc. There was a bakery and a blacksmith’s shop
(which may have been
seven hundreds years old) - associated with a wheelwright’s
shop with its
sawpit, and a shoemaker. A new vicar offended the old gentleman
shoemaker by
genially saying, “Are you the village cobbler?”
This caused the old man to draw
himself up, and say, “No, sir. I am the village
shoemaker.”
By the way, in the
speech of the village, the term boot was restricted
to top boots, or those that reached the calf - all else were shoes or
‘shoon’.
We had a village tailor, hay binder and chimney sweep. The hay binder
was also
a thatcher but his main job was getting the hay out of the stacks for
the London market.
Several wagons went weekly
to the hay market just outside Aldgate. The wagons went overnight and
came back
next day. The hay binder’s wife was the local nurse in
confinements. A butcher
from Ingatestone - two miles away - brought in meat, but very few
cottagers
could afford that, except for Sunday. Some of them kept their own pigs
and
killed them as required. Grocers from Ingatestone and Brentwood (three miles
away) used to deliver
groceries and a postman walked in from Brentwood. Later, a
younger postman was
supplied with a bicycle and we had two deliveries and two collections
daily
from the village post office. There was one inn (referred to in Miss
Bredon’s
“Lady Audley’s Secret” as Castle Inn, Mount Stanning), three beer
houses and one off
licence.
I wonder if anyone has
seen a man wearing a
smock; there was an old man in the parish who I remember did so.
From one
farmhouse in the village we could get fresh milk at 3d. a quart
but we generally went one-and-a-half miles with our cans to get skimmed
milk
for which we paid 1d a quart. The dairy supplied the big house with
milk and
butter. The dairywoman (wife of the farm bailiff) wore pattens. Behind
the big
house (Thoby Priory) was Thoby Wood and during the winter village boys
used to
drive rabbits, pheasants and partridges, etc for big shoots. At the end
of the
day they were given 1/- (a shilling) and a rabbit - a useful supplement
to the
family’s funds when ordinary farm labourers were paid 12/- a
week and horsemen
and cowmen 13/- with Sunday labour.
The village school had
an
Infants Department of thirty-odd and an Upper School of ninety-odd.
The latter was in a
big room with a. sort of bay, where Standard I sat. The Headmaster
looked after
Standard IV and upwards. A partially qualified woman teacher took
Standards II
and III and an unqualified girl or woman (a monitor) taught Standard I.
The
Infant School had a. qualified mistress. There was a partition between
the two
schools which could be taken down for concerts, etc. The Sunday School
met
there, too and both Day and Sunday Schools had really
useful little libraries.
My father used to train the children to give a cantata once in the
winter and
the profits were spent on the Day School library. These continued until
a new
vicar came along who had conscientious objections to Friday evening
concerts, etc.
This was the only time when the platform could be assembled without
affecting
the school - it was dismantled on Saturday morning. Occasional concerts
were
however arranged by other folk.
Now for the
roads. We were
lucky in having a main road running through the village. It was
macadamized
with granite, water bound, and rolled in with a steam roller. In winter
it was
an inch or so deep in mud. The roadmen scraped this off to the side and
made it
up into heaps which were afterwards collected to form a larger heap on
the
grass verge. These were sifted by local builders to get grit for
mortar. In
some places the gutter between road and path was not very plain and. if
one
cycled home in the dusk, when there was a sprinkling of snow, one did
not see
the heaps and bumped over them. The lanes were made up of gravel and
this in my
young time was left to be rolled in by the carts. A quarter mile or so
of this
unrolled gravel was a nuisance to cyclists. These lanes frequently had
cart
ruts and often the carts etc kept in the middle of the road, which
again was
awkward for cyclists, for the carts never made way for them.
Penny-farthing
bicycles were ridden - my father had one - but
“safeties” were beginning to be
popular, though at first they generally had narrow tyres (of the same
kind as
many perambulators today). Speaking of perambulators, I had the first
in the
village, and the girl who took me out for an airing was very proud of
the
privilege.
To the
conservative farmer who used carts
and traps, bicycles were anathema and it was difficult to pass them in
a
country lane for they would keep in the middle of the road. Rude boys
shouted
after cyclists, “Hi, governor! Your wheel’s going
round!” or, worse still, “Monkey
on a gridiron!” There is a hill south of Brentwood on the main
road to London and the local
weekly paper recorded
regularly prosecutions and fines on cyclists for the dangerous way they
went
downhill. Freewheels began to come in about nineteen hundred but my
cycle
engineer advised me against them as unreliable; we had, as a rule,
footrests on
the front fork and used them in coasting down the hills. There was a
step at
the axis of the back wheel from which we mounted. The Dunlop patent
still held
in my schooldays, and the cheapest cycle tyre cover cost a guinea
(three
guineas in our money) - and tubes I think were about 8/-. Cycles were
frequently made by the shopkeeper- he was an engineer. B.S.A. made
cycle
components - not complete cycles - and the shopkeeper assembled them.
Complete
cycles were only available from a certain few firms.
As farmers’
sons and daughters took to cycling the prejudice against
cyclists abated and the byroads improved and hedge cuttings were not so
frequently left in the lanes to puncture tyres. It is hard to realise
what a
revolution in country life was brought about by the cycle. It was cheap
enough
to be bought by working men could now get to work away from home - the
knowledge of the district in which they lived was extended, but it
killed the
practice of long walks.
I am old
enough to remember the repeal of
the Act which entailed the walking of a man with a red flag before any
mechanically propelled vehicle, and the famous London to Brighton run
to
celebrate that. I believe half the cars broke down, to the malicious
joy of the
general public. It is hard to realise that at first motor cars were
such a
rarity that when we heard the chug of a car we used to go to the
windows of our
dining room to see it pass just as in World War I we used to go out and
look up
at an aeroplane. The coming of the motor car destroyed the surface of
the water
bound macadamized roads and the county surveyors were driven to using
tar as
the binding agent. Our excellent main roads are due to motor car
traffic. Motor
lorries have influenced marketing to a remarkable extent. Up to the
General
Strike in 1926 a train ran every morning from Colchester to Liverpool Street, stopping at
every station solely
to convey milk in churns; it brought back the empties in the afternoon.
That
strike stopped the railway milk traffic and forced dairy companies to
send out
lorries to get the milk from the farmers. The new way was so convenient
for
both farmers and dairymen that in a short period of time after the
strike
finished the milk train ceased to run. The lorries allowed of farmers
etc
sending vegetables straight to the London market without
using railways.
The
development of science since I got interested in it is probably
known to you all. I can remember, in a magazine for schools, reading of
the
discovery of argon - that was followed up by the discovery of the other
inert
gases of the atmosphere. Neon lighting uses a gas unknown fifty-five
years ago.
Radium, of course, made quite a stir when I was at school. The
liquification of
air in the later 1890’s was utilised by Ramsay in isolating
the inert gases in
the atmosphere and the “Daily Mail” had a wonderful
article, in its early days,
explaining how a pint of liquid air would suffice to drive the biggest
ships
across the Atlantic. That same paper, as I can well remember, had a
vivid
description of the capture and sack of the European Legations at Pekin in (?)1900,
whereas they were in
fact easily relieved by the mixed force of English, American, Russian,
French
and Germans.
I can remember vaguely
the campaign to
reconquer the Sudan and very
vividly the Boer War 1899-1901.
Later, as a ‘Volunteer’ I met, in camp, a Somerset
Light Infantryman who
claimed to have sent Buller’s message to Geo. White in
Ladysmith advising him
to destroy his guns etc and to surrender. There was a terrible moment
when Sir
Geo. White believed that the Boers were pressing him hard and at a
critical
moment in the despatch the line failed and we did not know till next
morning
the true story - and feared the worst. Spion Kop just a geographical
expression
with the Tugelia River - they were as
vivid to our eyes as El Alamein to folk in the
last Great War. I
cannot remember how I learned of the Relief of Ladysmith but I can
remember a
man selling a London Evening Paper (½d.) and I bought one at
ld. to take home
to show my father - it was in the stop press. The relief of Mafeking was known
during the night, and my
schoolmates nearly blew down the playground wall with fireworks, while
the Head
sat indoors over his newspaper - The Times - and waited for the
excitement to
calm down before having the bell rung for school.
I
think fifty years ago people were happier than now despite the great
improvements and inventions.
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| Waterloo Cottages on the west side of the Roman Road in Mountnessing, facing north towards Ingatestone |
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Mountnessing Congregational Chapel (right)
on the main road was destroyed in enemy action
on 11 February 1945.
The Chapel was rebuilt but demolished
to make way for a house
(245 Roman Road) in 1970. |
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Albert Cottage was demolished
when the main road was widened in the 1930s.
It stood near to the drive-way to the windmill
almost opposite the Prince of Wales public house. |
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The Plough, one of three public houses
in Mountnessing was rebuilt
after this photograph was taken
at the turn of the twentieth century.
The picture was taken from outside Albert Cottage. |
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Adelaide Cottage
on the Roman Road, Mountnessing. |
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A scene little changed a hundred years later.
The Flint Cottages stand at the junction
of Church Road and Old Church Road
(the lane to St Giles' Church and Billericay) |
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Padhams Green,
a small hamlet off off the lane
between Jordans Farm and Bellmans Farm
on the way to Ingatestone. |
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A photograph of the dedication
of the War Memorial
at St Giles' Church, Mountnessing
in 1920 |
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Church Road looking towards railway bridge and main road. "W. J. Reed, the village schoolmaster,
lodged at the house on the right,
and learned to ride a
Penny-farthing bicycle on the hill down Arnold's Lane". |
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Mountnessing Windmill
opposite the Prince of Wales |
| Church Restoration 1889 |
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| Taken from the Essex Newsman, 2 February 1889. |
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Mountnessing Windmill.
“From being a
friendly focus of village life, the wind-mill has dwindled to an
‘ancient
monument’”. These
words were written by
C. Henry Warren in 1940 in his book, ‘Corn Country’. The miller at Mountnessing
in Essex –
the last of four generations of
the Agnis family – had ceased business only a few years
earlier. It is a
post mill, built in 1807, replacing
an earlier one on the same site. Chapman
and Andre’s map of 1777 shows a mound but
no windmill. Ownership
was passed to Mountnessing Parish
Council in 1937. In
1947 the mill was given Grade II listed building status. However a lighting strike
a few years later
damaged one sail and the building sank towards
dereliction. Its
fortunes changed in
1975 with the formation of the ‘Friends of Mountnessing
Windmill’ and an
ambitious project of restoration began in 1979 which lasted four years. The windmill was
officially opened to the
public in April 1984 and remains a fine example of village
industrial past.
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| Mountnessing
windmill c.1950 |
Official
opening of Mountnessing Windmill: 29 April 1984 |
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| Then and Now |
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Church Road,
looking east, over the railway bridge (and in modern photo,
Mountnessing bypass (A12)).
The house on the right is little changed. |
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| EXTERNAL LINKS |
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History House |
Wikipedia |
Francis Frith |
Link to BALH blog |
Other sites |
| Mountnessing |
Mountnessing
History House |
Mountnessing
Wikipedia |
Mountnessing
Frith |
Our
Blog |
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| Last
updated: 5 April 2010 |