Category Archives: personal

Cedars Park

Updated 17 February 2022; mostly correcting old links

I belong to several Facebook groups about my home town, Waltham Cross and Cheshunt in Hertfordshire. On one of them there was a thread about the park which was less than 10 minutes walk from my house and which I knew well from a very early age. Needless to say someone found and posted a few old photographs and postcards which triggered me to remember what I knew about the park and its surroundings.

Cedars Park covered part of the site of the old Theobalds Palace, which was built around 1560 by William Cecil and where he entertained Queen Elizabeth. The Palace was subsequently “stolen” from Robert Cecil, Lord Burghley, by James I in exchange for Hatfield House. It was here that Prince Charles (later Charles I) spent much of his childhood. James I died and Charles I was proclaimed King here. Although few contemporary images of Theobalds Palace survive, it appears to have been a late Tudor masterpiece. So needless to say it was razed to the ground by Oliver Cromwell’s merry men.

Theobalds_Palace_Engraving
An 18th century Engraving of Theobalds Palace

Subsequently the estate — used by James I as a deer park — was split up and an 18th century house built on the site of the palace. Old Palace House, as I knew it, even contained a couple of the original Tudor windows from the palace, but apart from that the exact location of the palace was lost beneath the ground. As befitted a large house of its period, Old Palace House had formal gardens, stables, a kitchen garden and a large orchard. In 1919 the adjoining area was given to the local council as a municipal park: Cedars Park, so named because it contained two enormous Cedars of Lebanon which it is suggested are contemporary with Theobalds Palace. The park also contained two very old Mulberry trees which may also have been contemporary with the Palace.

I knew Cedars Park well in the 1950s and ’60s — basically from the time I could walk, and maybe earlier — less well in the ’70s when I was away at university. Since the ’70s the park has been extensively remodelled and modernised; in the process there has been a great deal of archaeological work done and the ground layout of Theobald’s Palace is now pretty well documented.

The old lady who lived in Old Palace House must have died in the very early ’60s; the house was shut up and ownership passed to the local council. It is at this period, the mid-60s, that I knew Old Palace House and its grounds. The house itself was burned down — as usual in suspicious circumstances — in the early ’70s and it is this which, eventually, started the process of clearing the site and extending the park.

One of the first acts, after making the buildings safe (ie. demolishing most of what was left) was to grub out the orchard, turn it into a field and tack it on to Cedars Park by making an opening in the dividing (ancient) wall.

As you can see there is an awful lot of history here, so if you want to delve deeper you might want to look at:
For more on the history of Theobalds Palace see British History, Hertfordshire Genealogy and Hertfordshire Memories.

For more on the history of Cedar’s Park see Broxbourne Borough Council and Wikipedia; there is also a website for Cedar’s Park.

There is lots of detailed information on the archaeological excavations around Cedars Park, mostly done by Oxford Archaeology, in their site reports here and here.

I also wrote briefly about Old Palace House in a 2009 blog post.

What now follows is my recollection of Cedars Park, and Old Palace House and grounds, as I knew them in the ’50s and ’60s.

First of all an annotated sketch map, then a few more recollections.

You will want to look at this in a larger size, so click the image
cedars
Not to scale. North at the top.

A : Main entrance
B : Bridge over the stream (such as it was, usually dry)
C : Toilets
D : Monkey Puzzle tree
E : Cedar Tree (both were also very old when I knew them in ’50s & ’60s)
F : Flint-built follies
G : Old gate in the wall; later made into a larger opening when the orchard was grubbed out and the field made part of the park.
*H : Council Park Department hothouses & cold-frames (which grew most of the flowers of civic occasions and for formal planting around the town)
*I : Hothouse conservatory which housed pot-plants for formal civic occasions; it was always full of colourful pants like calceolaria and coleus
J : Conservatory shelter
K : Horse Chestnut trees
L : Pink specimen Horse Chestnut tree
M : Mulberry tree (both were very old; maybe as much as 300 years in 1950s); blimey did the fruit make a mess on the grass!
N : Herbaceous borders against walls
O : Very old wall, probably late-16th or very early 17th century; had niches for bee skeps
*P : Park-keeper’s “lodge”
*Q : Old Palace House
R : Rose walk/arcade
*S : Stables
T : Conservatory containing a glass case with two(?) stuffed tigers; later a colony of live budgerigars was added. In the early days (’50s) you could walk round the conservatory containing the glass case of tigers but obviously that stopped once the budgies were installed.
*U : Old walled kitchen garden (I think)
V : Remains of concrete plinth which had supported WWI tank
*W : Huge old walnut tree, which was the only tree kept (in the middle of the field) when the orchard was grubbed out and the resulting field made part of the park
*X : Driveway to Old Palace House
Y : Formal flowerbeds
Z : Thatched shelter

[Note that everything marked * plus Old Palace House garden, lawn, orchard and the rough land was outside the perimeter of Cedars Park as I knew it in the ’50s and ’60s (although the park keepers kept an eye on most of it once Old Palace House was owned by the council).]

Here are a couple of postcard views of Cedars Park from, I think, the early 1950s.

Cedars_c1950_1
This is looking towards the main gate (A) from roughly the point (V) on the plan.

Cedars_c1950_2
This shows the thatched shelter (Z) with the mulberry tree (M) and cedar tree (E) beyond from in front of the follies (F) on the plan.

By the time I knew them, all the areas of Old Palace House and grounds were pretty well unkempt: lawns not cut; shrubs not pruned; orchard trees not cared for; house shut up and damp. We were occasionally allowed access to the Old Palace House grounds on a Sunday afternoon because we knew one of the park keepers who worked something like one Sunday in three. Once or twice we were taken over the house and stables.

OPH_c1935This is the rear of Old Palace House in about 1935. Note the two, possibly three, Tudor window embrasures.

The orchard, full of very old fruit trees, was a delight despite being overgrown with grass and bramble. A handful of times, over a couple of autumns, we were allowed to go in there and help ourselves to whatever fruit we could carry away (usually in rucksacks). The orchard contained just about every imaginable old variety of apple and pear. And the apples were to die for; wonderful varieties that one never sees today, many of which we couldn’t even identify. Obviously there were also things like cherry trees — stripped by the birds early in the season! I think I remember raspberry canes too. And then there was the enormous mature specimen walnut tree (that’s my memory, anyway) which stood in the middle. This walnut tree was the only tree kept when the orchard was grubbed out (in the early 70s?); I have a memory that my mother painted it in wonderful autumn colour, standing majestically alone in what was by then a field belonging to the park. While one deplored the orchard being grubbed out, the trees were so old and neglected that there was realistically little other option.

Also, knowing the park keeper, we sometimes got a look round the hothouses and the conservatory. The latter was always full of colourful plants being grown for civic occasions — calceolarias, coleus and I forget what else. Outside there were cold-frames and I think an area used for bringing on rose bushes, trees etc. Plus the inevitable sheds housing big lawn mowers and other machinery, potting sheds etc. The hothouses were heated by some old coal-fired furnaces, which had to be stoked up last thing at night and would apparently just about last until the morning.

Going back to the park, I loved the Monkey Puzzle Tree, the Cedars, the Mulberry trees; I remember rolling down the bank from the path by the Monkey Puzzle; and with the large number of Horse Chestnut trees it was a great place to hunt for conkers. I never did much like the tigers or the follies. Nevertheless the park was for me a fairly magical place.

As I grew into my teens and beyond I came to much more appreciate the old walls and Old Palace House with its Tudor windows. Indeed I remember drawing the Tudor windows (badly, it has to be said) for Art homework; that would have been 1966 or ’67. And I have the following three, not very good, B&W photographs of Old Palace House from around 1964 (they may have all been taken on the same day) …

OPH rear
This shows the derelict state of the house after only a few years empty. Note the two Tudor windows at centre, plus a possible third, smaller one, to the right.

OPH rear
Another image of the rear of Old Palace House with a surprisingly tidy looking lawn. This must have been taken by my father as the young teenager (right middle-ground) is me; note also a small dog.

OPH front
And here is the front of Old Palace House, taken from the front lawn.

I also remember Theobalds Lane, between Cedars Park and Crossbrook Street (so the part off the right of the map) from the mid-1950s; it really was a country lane then. The land to the south was covered in glasshouses, which from memory grew tomatoes and cucumbers — as did a lot of the Lea Valley. The land on the north side had some glasshouses but also a couple of orchards, where I remember my mother buying apples in the autumn — that might even have been before I started school, so 1955 at latest. This was all demolished and grubbed out somewhere in the late ’50s and the housing estate built — and completed long before I went to the Grammar School in 1962 and possibly before Theobalds Grove Station reopened in November(?) 1959.

I’ll write more if I come across any more photographs.

Lessons for Life

Spread all across the intertubes there are hundreds of sites which suggest a vast number of supposed “lessons for life”. Many, of course, are nothing of the sort but merely personal predilection or religious proselytising. However there are some which seem to me to be much more universally useful and which would serve us well if included in our modus operandi. Here then are my top ten tips for surviving life on an even keel.
My Top Ten Lessons for Life

  1. Life isn’t fair — deal with it.
  2. If it harm no-one, do as you will.
  3. Treat others as you would wish them to treat you.
  4. Be open and honest in all that you do.
  5. You can never have all the information you want to make a decision; every decision is the best you can make at the time with the information available.
  6. Don’t be afraid to admit you were wrong or you don’t know; be prepared to change your mind.
  7. No one is responsible for your happiness, your emotions, your opinions or your orgasms except you.
  8. No regrets — just things you now know weren’t the best.
  9. If you’re faced with a problem, don’t delay trying to resolve it; problems ignored only multiply.
  10. There is no point worrying about things outside your control or which you cannot change.

Of all the rest I’ve seen over the years I have collected some more of what I consider to be the most generally useful on my website at Lessons for Life.

Five Questions, Series 7 #5

And so to the last of my Five Questions — at least for this series.
In some ways this is going to be the trickiest question to answer, as you’ll see. Which is why it has been left until last. So …

★★★★★

Question 5: What character (fictional if you wish) you would like to kiss?
Now I feel like I’m on a hiding to nothing here. For if I name an obvious friend I’ll doubtless get a smack round the chops, either from the person concerned, their partner or “her indoors”.
And were I to name someone well-known, doubtless everyone would say “What?! Them!”, and immediately downgrade their opinion of me. Oh wait, that’s not possible; it is rock-bottom anyway!
And if I name someone fictional there’s at least a sporting chance no-one will have the first clue who I’m talking about. So that is rather pointless.
Of course there are lots of people “out there” (mostly female) who I think are sexy, hot or whatever other synonym you like to choose. But I cannot visualise myself ever being in the position to even consider a kiss might be on the cards. And if I can’t visualise it as a possibility then it is hard — at least for me — to imagine it. Besides, this sort of intimacy is not something I’ve grown up with; as a family (and hence it has rubbed off on me) we are very undemonstrative; the net result is that I don’t do emotion and intimacy well, however much I might wish otherwise. (And, yes, I know all of that says much about me.)
However I could just say … perhaps … Ella, or … Janet, or … Laura, or …
Then everyone can try to work out which of the 47 girls called Ella, Janet or Laura who I might know (or know about) I mean.
But whoever you decide it is, you’re wrong; it isn’t.
Unless you want it to be!
★★★★★

OK, so that’s the end of this series of Five Questions. There may be another series later in the year, especially if you all send me some good questions!
Meanwhile, be good!

Ten Things #16

Like many of my days I spent yesterday glued to my desk. Such are the joys of retirement and being involved in running community groups. So while Noreen went to the supermarket, cooked tea and did various other domestic things, here are ten things that I did …
Ten Things I did Yesterday

  1. Worked on the draft “Terms of Reference” for the new PPG network group — which of course I have been fingered to chair!
  2. Read countless emails — and binned most of them
  3. Processed a bundle of Anthony Powell Society membership renewals — and despaired of people (mostly Americans) who can’t read the form
  4. Ate three meals and drank several buckets of tea
  5. Ordered Noreen a pair of earrings
  6. Prepared for this morning’s Healthwatch strategy group meeting
  7. Had a shower and my weekly-ish shave
  8. Chatted to the postman and the gardener
  9. Worked on Anthony Powell Society website — which needs far too many updates done
  10. Sent my doctor a request for a repeat prescription — done online, of course.

So a pretty typical day at the coalface really!

Five Questions, Series 7 #2

Let’s try and catch up a bit and answer the second of our five questions.

★★☆☆☆

Question 2: What is your spirit animal?
Now everyone is going to expect me to say TIGER, especially as I was born in the Chinese Year of the Tiger. And according to the Chinese I’m actually a Metal Tiger — or as I prefer to think of it: Tin Tiger.
But is my spirit animal a tiger?
Well no, I’m not sure it is. But then I can’t say definitely what it is. And of course one isn’t able to choose one’s own spirit animal — it has to choose you. At least that’s what American Indian culture says. And your spirit animal may change throughout your life, depending on what lesson you’re supposed to be learning.
Tigers are creatures of scrubland as well as forest. Whereas in many ways I actually feel more drawn to the Jaguar, cryptic and silent, slinking through the forests of Central and South America.

How can you not like a lazy cat like that!

Jaguar are still large cats, actually the third largest after tigers and lions respectively. They weigh in at around 1.7m from nose to tail compared with a tiger’s roughly 2.5m. So you still wouldn’t want to pick a fight with one!
Perhaps I’ve gone off tigers because they’ve been over-exposed due to their endangered status, but I have certainly recently come to appreciate more the beauty of the jaguar compared with the raw power of the tiger.
In trying to answer this I have done a number of (apparently more serious) quizzes online. Most of them reckon my spirit animal is either an owl or a wolf. Neither of those feels intuitively right. But then the questions are stupid. And, as mentioned above, spirit animals have to choose you; they can’t be chosen or assigned.
Mind you, there is Tigger in Winnie the Pooh. Maybe Tigger is my spirit animal as I would like to be perpetually bouncy!
Or maybe just any cat will do; small domestic cats are just fine. Oh and I also like crows (all the crow family), parrots and fish.
So no, I really don’t know. Maybe I need some guided mediation the find the answer.

We're on Hiatus

Apologies everyone, there’s going to be a (hopefully short) hiatus while I recover from this nasty gastric flu bug — complete with debilitating dizzy fits.
Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.

Non, Papa Francesco!

A few weeks ago, Pope Francis stated as his opinion that couples who choose not to have children were selfish.

A society with a greedy generation, that doesn’t want to surround itself with children, that considers them above all worrisome, a weight, a risk, is a depressed society. The choice to not have children is selfish. Life rejuvenates and acquires energy when it multiplies: It is enriched, not impoverished.
[Guardian; 11 February 2015]

No. Absolutely not. I cannot agree. In fact the opposite is true: couples who have children are the selfish ones.
Even leaving aside the cost of raising children, they are an environmental disaster. Right from the off parents have to provide nappies, where the choice is between two very un-green options: washable cotton terry towelling or disposables. Noreen looked at this from a professional standpoint and came to the conclusion there was little to choose, environmentally, between the options.
And from then on there is an ever increasing requirement for clothing, food, warmth, entertainment, schooling and all manner of other plastic toot. Very little of which is at all environmentally friendly.
Children are really not very green.
Which, I’m sorry to say, seems to mean that couples who have children do so essentially for their own gratification. What is that if it isn’t selfish? Especially on a planet which is already over-populated.
Noreen and I made a deliberate decision, some 30 years ago, not to have children. We were neither of us sure we wanted children and we both had (some approximation to) a career: me earning money and Noreen in a relatively poorly paid public service job giving back to the community.
In making the decision we committed to be there for our friends; their children; their grand-children; and even their parents. Why? Because at some time everyone is going to need some support.
However good a parent — and most parents do a fantastic job — they can never provide everything a child needs. There will always come a time when there will be something a child will not wish to discuss with their parents, but for which they might value unbiased support: boy/girl-friend problems; job worries; study concerns; money worries; having done something stupid and needing bailing out of the police station; or just needing a bed for the night. And adults can need these things too, of course.
Over the years we have been rung at 3AM by a friend wanting support because they’re in court the following day. We’ve helped friends through divorce. We’ve provided a contact point for the teenage daughters of American friends travelling alone through London. We’ve talked to teenagers about study options and going to university. We’ve connected parts of both our families back together. And so on …
How is this selfish?
OK, so from a biological point of view we aren’t propagating our genes. So what? Does it matter? If it doesn’t matter to us, then it matters not at all. And it is no-one else’s concern. But yes, we are lucky to have had the choice.
We’ve given up the option of passing on our genes and increasing the population in favour of helping other people who are already here, and most of whom are completely unrelated.
None of that sounds selfish to me — precisely the opposite.
So, no, Papa Francesco, on this you aren’t even wrong.

Five Questions, Series 7

So, almost nine months on (is this significant?) from starting the last round of Five Questions, I bring you another series. As always they’re bound to keep us on our toes, and I hope provide some humour as well.
Here in Series 7 we bring you more questions both profound and stupid (often at the same time) which will be answered with whatever degree of seriousness and erudition — or not — I feel like at the time.

★★★★★

So the five questions for Series 7 are:

  1. Does killing time damage eternity?
  2. What is your spirit animal?
  3. How can you drop a raw egg on a concrete floor without cracking it?
  4. Does thought require language?
  5. What character (fictional if you wish) you would like to kiss?

Unlike the last series, I promise to try to post answers are regular, weekly-ish, intervals and not leave everyone dangling for weeks between answers.
Oh, and you’re all invited to sing along — I’d like it if you all joined in! You can either answer the questions, as I answer them, by posting in the comments or by posting your answers on your own blog (in which case just leave a comment here so we can find your words of wisdom).
I’ll aim to answer, or at least attempt to answer, Question 1 in about a week’s time.
Until then, play nicely!

Weekly Photograph

This week a self-portrait from several years ago. Taken, with a fisheye lens, in our hotel room when away for the weekend — I was actually going to a school reunion.

Click the image for larger views on Flickr
Self-Portrait with Chair
Self-Portrait with Chair
Cheshunt; June 2008

Ten Things #14

This month in “Ten Things” I thought we should have a look at my weekend. I won’t claim this is typical although many of the activities are far from unusual.
10 Things I did Last Weekend

  1. Hosted Anthony Powell Society Quarterly London Pub Meet
  2. Read and wrote an enormous number of emails
  3. Checked out Noreen’s laptop which was threatening to die
  4. Did the household paperwork and ensured the bills had been paid
  5. Wrote my monthly “Chairman’s Bulletin” for my GP’s patients’ group members
  6. Processed a pile of bookings for the Anthony Powell Lecture in April
  7. Wrote the minutes of the last meeting of GP’s patients’ group
  8. Read (most of) this week’s New Scientist
  9. Slept, including a long lie in on Sunday
  10. Drank too much beer; not enough to be drunk or have a hangover but more than I should given my diabetes.

So how was your weekend? Did you do anything other than nothing?