Warren wood campsite near Trunch, Norfolk
Using Ancestry.co.uk, I've built up my family tree over the last ten years and reached back to 1600-1800 on most lines. There are no crowned heads, slave traders, criminals, artists, warriors or saints but, at least, I have nothing to hide. They were mostly husbandmen, yeoman, business people and craftspeople, with a sprinkling of small rural landowners. There were many hardworking women with numerous household skills, long lost. They were all married, all law-abiding and hard working people, a mix of Saxons/Angles (40%) and the native (Beaker) people of Britain (60%). There is a smattering of Scottish (16%) and Danish (5%) but nothing to set one’s heart racing or to confound one’s sense of being southern and East Anglian ‘English’.
My most engaging ancestral line comes from East Anglia, founding a tradition in our family which continues - running and owning ‘houses of refreshment’. This family tradition may go back to medieval Norwich, to a 'Baly' family who may have been burghers of that great City when it was the second city of England who were possibly enriched through refreshing the thousands of weavers and wool traders resident there. I would also like to descend from the master carpenters of Norwich - but more of that, later.
Family trees become complicated. One has 16 great great grandfathers/mothers. Going back to 1770, I have 128 direct ancestors. Going back to 1066, I have double the number of ancestors of people who were alive then. The English therefore can say that “I am descended from all the breathers in 1066 in England” or more likely, from half of them, twice.
I have finally proved that one of my 128 grandparents X 5 on my direct male (surname) line was a publican called Humphrey Baley who came from North Walsham, in Norfolk. He ran and lived in a beautiful thatched pub before the French Revolution which is still operating today as a very fine establishment, in rural south Norfolk. I designed our recent holiday around these historical facts.
I resent spending money on renting a cottage or hotel bed in England, costing £100+ inclusive per night so we made use of our micro camper. We camped in a stunning woodland campsite through joining The Caravanning and Camping Club. They have sites available only to paying members. This site is Warren Wood which is just five pitches under trees in a remote setting near Trunch, three miles from the coast. Our arrival was signalled by a fly past by two noisy Eurofighters circling the campsite ten times (just joking, it was no salute - but it was real). Apparently, they are on high alert for a Russian invasion.
Beautiful Warren Wood campsite
We had an electric cable supplying power for a kettle and toaster (to make toasted cheese sandwiches). Other Club members arrived in elaborate and very expensive VW campers and vast pantechnicons equipped with ‘everything’ including satellite dishes, air con and probably even dishwashers but then the owners did what we did i.e. they lived outside in the balmy air, eating al fresco. Frankly, if the chief delight is being outside, what is the point of all that expensive clutter? In addition, to drive a pantechnicon to the South of France and back would cost £1500 in petrol; a VW camper van might cost in the region of £750, for fuel alone. The lighter the vehicle, the better. A mini with a tent would be cheapest.
Being outside is incredibly healthy and relaxing. It reawakens deadened senses. It also made us see what the internet is doing to us. We had everything we needed for a fraction of the price that others had paid (they had spent anything between £50,000-£200,000). The smell of pine trees, the flecked sunlight, the low, full moon, the sounds of the forest were all deeply satisfying especially after two years of lockdowns. We spent money eating out instead of on a rented cottage, just for a bed and stove. It just needs a bit of forward planning.
The micro camper is behind with tailgate tent - one sleeps in the campervan. I ‘spruced up’ later.
Southwold in Suffolk
On the way there, we visited Southwold in Suffolk and had lunch in the working harbour, at the ancient Harbour Inn which feels like a ‘wooden wall ship' inside.
The Harbour Inn, Southwold, Suffolk
There are fresh fish stalls all along the harbour and queues of people waiting for fresh fish and oysters, newly caught. At the Harbour Inn, we had delicate, meaty, fresh North Sea plaice off the boats topped with pesto, still boned. It was nothing like the tasteless frozen variety to which we are all habituated.
We soon discovered delightful, classy Southwold and its seafront, with its small pier and sandy beach, thronging with bathers in the North Sea, tolerable because we had had a very warm summer. Southwold is where George Orwell lived for some years. Locals said he was a “scruffy womaniser” at the time and lived in the High Street 'near the fish and chip shop'. Eric Blair named himself after the River Orwell of Suffolk.
George Orwell. born Eric Blair is celebrated on this wall on the Pier
Baked Norfolk
North Norfolk is always alluringly remote and soporific, but it was baked dry and brown, with no green fields or verges. Everything was turning to dust and scorched earth, except for the newly harvested fields, which were golden. Some trees were even turning brown. The corn was ‘as high as an elephant’s eye’ so it was more like the plain of the River Po, than England. We even played Piedmonthese folk music in the car. All we missed was the sight of the blue surrounding Alps. One might as well have been in northern Italy in the heat of the day.
Norfolk’s stunning churches
Our first trip was to two local churches recommended in Brandt’s “Slow Guide to Norfolk”. Norfolk and Suffolk churches are world renowned for their distinctiveness and age. These two local churches were no exception. The church at Trunch, which “sounds like a dull blow to the head” according to the Guide had a stupendous medieval font covering:
Medieval font covering at Trunch Church with squirrels and other animals
Then we visited nearby Knapton Church, which, frankly, stunned me. Situated in a nondescript village among dusty dry fields, it seemed nothing special. However, this church houses a great wonder of England, if not one of its major treasures: a hammerbeam roof dating from 1504, with numerous carved angels known as Knapton's Angels. I've seen hundreds of European churches, but nothing has so impressed me as the uplifting spirituality of this roof. It does not match the church’s design so it is thought to have been prefabricated in Norwich by a Guild of Master Carpenters and transported to the church. On the double hammerbeam roof, the beams and spnderels are carved with three tiers of painted angels with outspread wings, with more on the king-posts and wall plate. In the niches below there are figures with scrolls, shields, symbols or musical instruments. In all, there are 138 figures. The roof was a gift to the church from Rector John Smith, a clergyman in the reign of Henry VII, with money, who was astute, both spiritually and artistically. It carries a message which I interpret as: "For those who will look up to God, there is limitless hope, protection and redemption". The roof is in perfect condition, having been restored in 2013, with lots of grants.. It escaped ‘the hacking off of heads’ during the Reformation (which outlawed all ‘graven images’) because no one had a ladder long enough. To say I was ‘transported’ by its concept and skill, is an understatement. Expert on such treasures, Nicholas Pevsner wrote about it, in glowing terms.
Knapton's Angels on its double hammerbeam roof (1504) at Knapton
One of Knapton’s numerous carved angels
We lunched at The Gunton Arms, in the middle of a baked deer park. Making a booking there is as difficult as getting a GP appointment due to a) its deer park setting and b) glowing reviews in national newspapers. It is a cross between a pub with an over ‘distressed’ interior design, a restaurant with ‘medieval’ spit grill room and an art gallery, though the taste in its art is dubious, even offensive. There is an open grill in a smoky room which we refused to sit in. We had some very fine dishes under a work of art of a Japanese woman representing “meat”. We were so offended by it that we would have walked out if I had been confident we could find another lunch locally. It is not a pub to which I would ever return for this reason. We then went to Vale Road Beach at Mundesley (it is rather hard to negotiate the rocky unmade roads) and we had a siesta in the heat. Many families were in the North Sea and apparently they were enjoying it. According to caravanners, the best beach along the coast is at Bacton, a nice village near the Bacton Gas Terminal.
Bacton Gas Terminal was built to process gas from the North Sea in the 1960s but also has an interconnector to Belgium and the Netherlands. Will that be working overtime this winter as gas becomes unaffordable?
Overstrand
Our next trip was to sandy Overstrand, a former Victorian sea resort on a cliff with a steep walk down to the beach. We decided its descent was only for the young and opted instead for the coffee in the nice ‘doggy-oriented’ cliff top cafe. There were shades of Positano about its al fresco sea views of distant tankers plying the North Sea. It was then we came aware of the frighteningly clear blue skies: no rain in sight.
Precipitous Overstrand beach
Blickling Hall
Blickling Hall is a magnificent Jacobean house built in 1620 on the remains of the home of Anne Boleyn, whose mother descended from the Dukes of Norfolk. Its frontage is breathtaking and it houses many art treasures. One was made aware of the story of its last owner, Lord Lothian, who bequeathed it and all its treasures to The National Trust in his Will in 1940, the first such gift. Lothian was secretary to Lloyd George and then ambassador to the USA who did a great deal to bring America into World War Two (although he had been on the appeasing side during the 1930s). Though he was nicknamed ‘Narcissus” at Oxford due to his good looks, he was very religious. He converted like Lady Astor (in his case from Catholicism) to Christian Science and he died as a result of refusing medical treatment at the high point of the war, in 1940, in America. He had only visited Blickling a few times. The earlier history of Blickling Hall is here
The main treasure, for me, is its needlework. I am not surprised to hear that the National Trust’s hub of expertise on needlework is based at Blickling Hall. There is a sumptuous Jacobean crewel bedspread and hangings which look new. They date from the late 17th century.
Magnificent English crewel needlework dating from the late 17th century
Apparently, the bedspread is newly backed - and hence it looks new. The designs were painstakingly cut from the old backing and sewn onto new backing cloth. One then walks into a room of English tapestries dating from the time of Cromwell coming from tapestry workshops at Mortlake, showing Sarah and Abraham. Religious tapestries were still permitted under the Puritan Commonwealth. I felt proud that England had managed something of this quality, just as beautiful as the tapestries from Flanders.
A Blickling set of English ‘Mortlake tapestries’ made during the Commonwealth (under Cromwell)
I bought an anti-mosquito bracelet in the NT shop (we were never bitten, even on the Broads) and two camping bamboo tools which combine the actions of a knife, fork and spoon all in one and work.
Wroxham and The Norfolk Broads
Then we took a boat trip of the Norfolk Broads from Wroxham, which is the East Anglian equivalent of St Moritz i.e. a glamorous centre for wealthy owners of river cruisers. The Norfolk Broads are miles of lakes and rivers which were dug out in the epoch of the Vikings in East Anglian for their peat to save trees which were needed for (Viking raiding) boats.. Celebrities such as George Formby and footballers have had houses on the River at Wroxham.
Celebrity homes at Wroxham are made from wood because brick would cause subsidence
We saw cormorants, crested grebes and herons because the water has been purified since the 1980s and the rivers and broads are full of fish. Apparently, a better boat trip is from Horsey Mere but we certainly enjoyed ours in the blazing sun. The trouble is that Wroxham is heaving with people and if one does not park early in the day, fights almost break out over parking spaces, by noon.
The most fascinating phenomenon in Wroxham is the department store, Roys of Wroxham calls itself the largest village department store in the world and has branched all over Norfolk and Suffolk. It has a total monopoly in Wroxham - but a local one, not some global chain. I managed to find three items I had been looking for in the sale - including a sailing top, in mint. I have decided I may shop in Roys remotely.
Hoveton Hall Gardens
We picked a great place for lunch, the cafe at Hoveton Hall Gardens. The courtyard was very ‘French’. We then wandered down through its rather unkept gardens to the walled garden. This reminded me of the Little Trianon where Marie Antoinette played shepherdess because in the corner is a desirable gardener’s cottage. One could easily ‘play’ estate gardener here.
Beautiful courtyard at Hoveton Hall Gardens Cafe
Walled Garden at Hoveton Hall with distant gardener’s cottage, in well kept formal gardens
We ate out again at The Suffield Arms which has a very ambitious menu, entirely written in Spanish. Paolo had a sweet Cromer crab pizza but was a bit disappointed that there was no obvious crab in it. He said it had ‘a fishy flavour’, at least..
North Walsham
Finally, we got to the ancestral family ‘day out’. My ancestor, Humphrey Baley (born on 4 November 1713), was the son of John and Hannah Baley (occasionally spelled Bailey) who married in North Walsham parish church in July 1703. They walked out man and wife through this entrance:
Entrance to parish Church of North Walsham
Humphrey’s elder brother John and probably Humphrey too were baptised in this font:
The font at North Walsham where Hmphrey was undoubtedly baptised
North Walsham is a lovely historic market town with a church with no spire but a tower that looks like a ruined castle. It is clearly a market town
The ancient covered market in North Walsham
Humphrey’s father John Baley (also written as Bailey) had moved from Norwich, possibly to run an inn in North Walsham. Humphrey was married in Norwich in 1739 aged 26 to my grandmother X 5, Martha Algay. Somehow, Humphrey found out that an inn had become vacant in South Norfolk and they moved to manage The Crown Inn, Pulham Market which still flourishes today. Humphrey’s life was part of the continuity of this same pub.
The Crown Inn, Pulham Market. The notice says “Life is a beautiful ride” - our trip to Norfolk tracing the family certainly was
The Crown Inn, Pulham Market, where my ancestors served behind the bar
Sitting outside my Baley ancestor’s beautiful inn and home
Humphrey Baley remained the manager of The Crown in Pulham Market for most of his life. It was auctioned in 1782 and he was named on the advert as a familiar local face. He retired to nearby Pulham St Mary and church records show that he died there in 1784 aged 71. He was buried in the cemetery and whether this grave still exists remains to be researched. It is clear that The Crown Inn had its own brewery which probably Martha Baley ran since brewing was a major occupation for women before 1800. Even Shakespeare’s wife engaged in brewing. The Crown Inn is still a pub and serves really top quality food. It provided us with the best meal we had had on our whole trip. I had flame grilled smoked salmon with dill jelly and local Norfolk lemon curd ice cream which is totally unforgettable and delicious. My advice is to forget glowing reviews in national broadsheets!: they may not be written by people of taste. The waitress said that Pulham Market is a lovely place to live with “no backbiting”. We visited its church of St Mary Magdalene, just behind the inn where the family worshipped and had their children baptised, in the font.
Pulham Market’s ancient vestibule, with hacked off niche statues
Loddon
Humphrey’s son, Robert, my grandfather X4 moved to work in beautiful Loddon, in the south of the Norfolk Broads, with its own moored cruisers. I don't know what Robert did but he died when he was only 39. His son, John, became the highly respected Loddon chemist (then called "the druggist”) and the local rep for Norwich Union company. His father Robert is buried in the parish churchyard with his mother, Susan, who left a Job-like Christian poem on her gravestone (she must have been literate). She was a widow for 22 years - and clearly fell ill. We found the burial listings in the church but we could not locate the actual gravestones in the time available. I attach below the poem.
Susan brought up my great grandfather X 3, James Baley, who married a minor local heiress, Elizabeth Beckett, with land and cottages in local Woodton. This legacy eventually morphed into a china business and china shop in charming Harleston near Pulham Market, run by my grandfather X 3, Samuel Baley who died in the early 1890s at a ripe old age. He was not a publican but his son and grandson ran and owned pubs until 1932, making a good living from refreshing the locals and being the first to announce, in any pub ‘away results’ for Arsenal Football Club (using telegraph). The early Arrsenal team used to change in their pub.
Gravestone Poem of ancestor Susan Baley (died 1810)
"With pain and sickness wasted to the bone
Long time to Heaven did make my moan
Then God at last to my complaint gave ear
And sent kind Death to ease me of my care.
So here my wasted body must remain
Till God shall bid It bloom again."
It is an insight into the travails of sick widows in 1800 living off cold charity before social security and pensions became available. Jane Austen highlights the same plight for women, in one of her works.
Summary
a) We are too much attached to our screens and need to get outside and eat outside for our mental and physical health.
b) There is nowhere as nice as camping in a wood, which offers shade and birds.
c) For those interested in the savings available from camping and caravanning, the budget for this five day trip (petrol, food and fees) was £350. Renting a cottage in high season or staying in a hotel, this trip would have cost over £800.
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