High Easter
High Easter maps (2 available)
High Easter books (13 available)
High Easter memories
Fond holiday memories
In the summer of 1963 my Dad took my sister (11), brother (4) and me (6) to stay with my Auntie Marie. She lived in the house adjoining the pub. I think it had a name like Penryn and appeared on the front cover of Country Life in the early 70's. I remember sleeping in the bedroom over the archway and waking up screaming in the middle of the night as I thought I had seen a gentleman dressed in black wearing a top hat walking across the room at the foot of my bed. Looking back I think I was probably woken by the noise of the pub turning out and a passing car probably caused a shadow across the ...read more here
Contributed by Christine Mabbett
Essex memories
Fond holiday memories
In the summer of 1963 my Dad took my sister (11), brother (4) and me (6) to stay with my Auntie Marie. She lived in the house adjoining the pub. I think it had a name like Penryn and appeared on the front cover of Country Life in the early 70's. I remember sleeping in the bedroom over the archway and waking up screaming in the middle of the night as I thought I had seen a gentleman dressed in black wearing a top hat walking across the room at the foot of my bed. Looking back I think I was probably woken by the noise of the pub turning out and a passing car probably caused a shadow across the ...read more here
A memory of High Easter contributed by Christine Mabbett
The last village policeman - Keith Brookes
My wife, family and I jumped at the chance of moving to Roxwell in 1982 for me to take over the position of resident Police Officer for Roxwell and its surrounding area. It transpired to be the best move we ever made. It was a job that I could not have done without my wife's support and assistance. The Police House/Office was in Stonehill Road, overlooking farmland and fantastic sunsets! Roxwell was and still is a wonderful place to live, and when I finally reached the end of my Police service in 1998, my wife and I continued to live in the village. The 'old' Police House was sold off nearly two years later after laying dormant and empty when we ...read more here
A memory of Roxwell contributed by First name Last name
Born In Gt Waltham 1953
My father Eric Grubb was one of three sons and two daughters of George Grubb. (who lived until he was 100 years old). We lived in Six Bells Cottages until we were rehoused in Cherry Garden Road. My mum Gertrude worked in Snows the butchers, pictured above, making sausages! I remember Mr Butcher the policeman - Mr Moore the poacher was a family friend! I attended the village school and Broomfield Secondary. My father died aged 43 in 1966 and my mother remarried Eric Rickman whose family lived in Barrack Road. My husband and I married in Gt Waltham in 1973 - the Rev. Duke was still there.
A memory of Great Waltham contributed by Sally-Ann Gilbert
Extracts From High Easter & Essex books
By now, the High Street was crammed
with houses: all the plots had been filled. The
tenements could only expand lengthways
along their own ‘backsides’, and most buildings
had a jumble of outhouses, barns and sheds
at the rear. Middle Row, which had hitherto
backed onto the conduit-stream, now began
occupying pockets of land on the west side of
the stream, too. Initially, these were used as
woodyards, but they soon evolved into half-
timbered outbuildings; so Back Lane became
somewhat narrower. The High Street, too,
grew more restricted when another line of
market stalls, permanent enough to have tiled
roofs, was erected immediately to the east
of Middle Row. These were known as Little
Middle Row. The High Street, at this point,
was now nine feet wide.
Many of the town’s inns were now large
and well established: these included the
Boar’s Head, which stood on the site of
Woolworth’s. Across the road - and stretching
down to the bridge - were two inns fused
together, the Lion and the Hart; and on
the far corner of Springfield Road - where
Next now is - was the Crown. Each had a
carriageway opening onto a large, enclosed
courtyard. Ranged around this major road
junction, they were well placed to receive
passing custom.
An extract from from"Chelmsford - A History & Celebration".
The situation resulted in the formation of
a local Board of Health. Their headquarters,
ironically, were in the same Middle Row house
where the first cholera victims had died. The
Board brought about swingeing changes in
Chelmsford - although much of it was a
question of getting the townspeople to alter
things they were perfectly happy with. The
members of the Board took steps to get the
entire town properly drained, and to restrict
animals wandering the High Street too freely
on market-day. In 1851 the members of the
Board finally shut off the conduit stream, and
replaced the domed conduit-head rotunda
with Judge Tindal’s statue. From then on,
Conduit Square and Back Lane became Tindal
Square and Tindal Street, respectively.
Market-day was also posing problems for
the corn merchants. They were not satisfied
that the new Shire Hall provided them with
a suitable trading floor. Inside, the building
was darkened and cluttered by dividing walls
and architectural fripperies. They could
only inspect their corn properly by taking
it outside. The magistrates made an effort
to improve the space, but it was not really
a solution. Finally, a purpose-built Corn
Exchange was erected in Tindal Square. It
opened for business in June 1857, and was
certainly a grand building. Its yellow-brick
Italianate façade masked a long, glass-roofed
trading-area. There were no more complaints
about insufficient light. The architect was
Frederic Chancellor, a Londoner.
An extract from from"Chelmsford - A History & Celebration".
And fair enough - the road signs to
Chelmsford do not shout ‘Historic Cathedral
City’ - they say things like ‘County town
since 1250’, or ‘The birthplace of radio’.
Good old Chelmsford: straightforward,
practical, and aware of civic duty. What
often gets overlooked though, is that
it is also an historic cathedral city, in
the sense that it is both a cathedral
city and historic. And although it
is foolish to say that one place is
more historic than another - because
everywhere is equally historic when
it comes down to it - it is indeed true
that some places’ histories are more
interesting or better documented
than others. Chelmsford has been
smiled-upon in both respects.
Follow a heritage trail around
Chelmsford, however, and you can
be forgiven for thinking that half
of its history lies under car parks.
In some cases, you would be right.
But if Chelmsford wears its history
lightly, it is because it has always
been mindful of moving forward, of
building on the past. Consider this:
give or take a few yards, Guglielmo
Marconi founded the world’s first
radio factory on the very spot where
a 1st-century pagan temple had once
stood. Ley-line enthusiasts would
undoubtedly discern a paranormal
significance in this. I prefer to see it as an
example of how a town can rise and rise
again, like a phoenix.
Anyway, Chelmsford still retains a lot
of overground history - it is just a matter
of knowing where to look. There can
be enormous history in the kink of a
pavement, the width of an alleyway. And,
being relatively flat, this is a good town to
explore on foot.
An extract from from"Chelmsford - A History & Celebration".
People were certainly living alongside
the River Chelmer, one mile east of the
present town, by around 2500 BC. They
left traces of a long, straight enclosure
called a cursus: the word means ‘race-
track’, but the site’s purpose would have
been ceremonial rather than sporting.
Indeed, a rash of small burial-mounds
surrounded the earthwork. The site
disappeared under a supermarket car park.
There is evidence that the area was settled
at various times over the next few centuries.
An extract from from"Chelmsford - A History & Celebration".
And the architecture? It is very varied.
Entering the town, you may see some of the
following: several acres of Victorian housing,
from railway-side terraces to detached,
self-confident villas; a church with a nice
green spire; a white tower-block with a jazzy
stonework pattern on the side; the turrets of
an old schoolhouse or a 1930s factory; and,
in the middle, a vast, grey building with the
words ‘Chelmsford Market’ picked-out in
plastic lettering. Ah yes, the market…
Whatever else it is, Chelmsford is primarily
a tradesman’s town. Industry has only
recently arrived here. Chelmsford, as we now
understand it, was the creation of a handful
of 13th-century market people. There was
no unbroken link back to the earlier settlers
who had been drawn here by the fertile
gravel farmland. Nevertheless, it is with those
primordial settlers that we shall begin.
An extract from from"Chelmsford - A History & Celebration".





