James
Thorne wrote (in his “Handbook to the Environs of London”) in 1876: “East Tilbury is
curiously out-of-the-way and old world like…”. It retains its feeling of being
out-of-the-way, but no longer looks old world. Apart from the church, its
rectory, and the fort, there are four cottages dated 1837. The rest of the buildings
are much newer. The same goes for the village’s only pub, The Ship, which was
rebuilt in 1957 when it looked the same as it does today. There has been an inn
on its site since the 18th century, and maybe earlier. I had a
mediocre lunch in the pub. I thought that was nowhere else to eat in the small
village, but later discovered that the Fort (see below) has a café.
The
flint and rubble gothic church of St Catherine contains much fabric dating back
to mediaeval times, back to the 12th century. When viewed from the
north or east, the church does not appear to have a tower. The reason is that
the tower and part of the south aisle were destroyed by naval artillery in a
battle between the British and the Dutch at Tilbury Hope in 1667. According to
contemporaneous church records, by 1667 the tower was already in a poor state.
Some say that it might have collapsed without the help of military
intervention.
From
the south side of the church, you can see an ugly square-based stone addition
to the old church. This stump is all that was built of a replacement tower
begun in the First World War by men of a garrison of the Coalhouse Fort (see
below). It was to have commemorated those fallen in WW1. However, the
authorities stopped the building works because the builders were not following
correct procedures. Across the road from the church, stands the Rectory, an elegant brick building with large windows. It was built in the early 1830s to replace an earlier one which had been badly damaged in the battle mentioned above.
The
village’s only thoroughfare continues downhill, almost to the north bank of the
Thames. It ends at the car park for visitors to the Coalhouse Fort. During the
early 15th century following an infiltration of the Thames by the
French, King Henry IV allowed the inhabitants of East Tilbury, at that time
classed as a ‘town’, to build defensive ramparts. In 1540, King Henry VIII
ordered that a ‘blockhouse, be constructed at Coalhouse Point. This point on a
curve in the Thames is so-named because by well before the 18th
century coal was being unloaded from craft at this ferry point close to the
village. The coal was transported westwards towards Grays and Chadwell along an
ancient track known as the ‘Coal Road’.
In
1799, when it was feared that the French led by Napoleon Bonaparte would try to
invade via the Thames, a new gun battery was built at East Tilbury. In the 1860s, when another French invasion
was feared, a series of forts were built along the shores of the estuary of the
Thames. One of these was the Coalhouse Fort at East Tilbury. Thus, the by then
somewhat insignificant village became part of London’s defences.
The
Fort was built between 1861 and ’74. Surrounded by a semi-circular moat and
raised on a mound, the Fort is not particularly attractive. However, it is set
in beautifully maintained parkland. From the slopes of the mound, there are
great views of the Thames, which sweeps around the point, and its rural
southern shore. The moat is separated into two sections by a short sharp-ridged
stone wall, which was likely to have been built when the Fort began to be
constructed. When I looked for the Fort on old detailed (25 inch to the mile) Ordnance Survey Maps (pre-1939), the moat is marked, but the Fort is not (probably, in the
interests of security). A ‘Coalhouse Battery’, which ran more-or-less parallel to the village’s only street was marked as “dismantled” on a 1938 map, but not the Coalhouse Fort.
The
outer walls of the Fort have had all manner of later structures built on them: gun-emplacements,
searchlight emplacements, and other shelters, whose functions were not obvious
to me. There is a large concrete bunker outside the Fort, between it and the
moat. Its shape might be described as three intersecting concrete blocks. This is marked on the tourist map as a
‘minefield control tower’. I believe that was it used to control
electrically-fired mines in the estuary. Nearby and closer to the river, there
is a smaller concrete bunker. The Fort’s interior was closed when I visited it,
but I was able to get a peek through its main gates, which were open. Tramway
tracks lead into the Fort. Old maps show that these led from the Fort to a
small landing stage at Coalhouse Point, which is a short distance southwest of
the Fort. The Fort ceased to be used after 1957.
Just
over a mile north-west of the Fort, the road to East Tilbury Station passes
through a most fascinating place. One of the first things you will see along
the road from the Fort is a vast factory, which closed in 2005. Made of concrete
and glass, but in a poor state of decoration, its flat roof carries a high
water-tower labelled ‘Bata’. This was part of the factory complex that the Bata
Company began building in 1932.
The
Czech Thomas Bata (1876-1932) was born in the Moravian town of Zlin. He became
the founder of Bata Shoes in 1894 in Zlin. He modernised shoe-making by moving
it from a craftsman’s process to and mechanised, industrialised one. Bata’s
company also revolutionised the way industrial enterprises were run, introducing
a profit-sharing system that involved all of its workers, and provided a good
reason for them to work enthusiastically. During the period between the two
World Wars, the forward-thinking Bata opened factories and individual companies
in countries including: Poland, Yugoslavia, India, France, Holland, Denmark,
the United Kingdom and the USA. The company in India is still very active,
almost every small town or village having at least one Bata retailing outlet. I
have bought many pairs of comfortable Bata-manufactured shoes from Bata stores
in India.
In
anticipation of WW2, Bata’s son, the prudent Thomas J Bata (1914-1980), and one
hundred other Czech families firm moved to Ontario (Canada) to form a Canadian
Bata company. After WW2, the Communist regimes in Czechoslovakia and other
‘iron-curtain’ countries nationalised their local Bata firms. Meanwhile, Thomas
J continued to develop the Bata firms in Canada and the UK, and opened up new
Bata companies and factories in Asia, Africa, the Middle East, and Latin
America.
Bata
senior was keen on the ‘Garden City Movement’.
He was concerned that his workers lived (close to his factories) and
worked in a pleasant environment, and lacked for nothing. A pioneer of this in
the UK was Titus Salt, who built his gigantic mill in the 1860s near Bradford
in West Yorkshire. He created a new town, Saltaire, around his textile factory.
This consisted of better than average homes for all of his workers (and their
families) from the humblest to the most senior. In addition, he built schools,
a hospital, open-spaces, recreation halls, a church, and other requisite of
Victorian life. In Zlin, Bata created
something similar, a fully-equipped town for his workers in park-like
surroundings around his factory in the 1920s. The homes he built for the
workers are still considered desirable today.
The
factory at East Tilbury, was another example of a town built specially for its
workers. One lady with whom I spoke there told me that she had worked for
Bata’s for twenty-seven years. She told me that in its heyday the Bata ‘town’
was self-sufficient. It had workers’ homes, shopping facilities (including a
supermarket and a Bata shoe store), a restaurant, a hotel, a cinema, a school,
a library, farms, and playing fields.
The
factory buildings at the East Tilbury site, some of which have been adopted by
other businesses, were built using a construction system devised (employing
reinforced concrete frames that allowed for great flexibility of design) by the
Czechs Frantisek Lydie Gahura (1891-1958), Jan Kotera(1871-1923), and Vladimir
Karfic(1901-1996). The site bought by Bata in Essex in late 1931 was ideally
placed in level open country near to both the railway and the river. His intention was to build a vast garden city
around his factories, which was to produce boots and shoes in East Tilbury.
Mr
Bata senior was killed in an air-crash in 1932 near Zlin, and so never saw the
completion of his creation in Essex, whose construction only began in early
1933. Construction of the factory buildings and the workers’ housing went on
simultaneously. By 1934, twenty
semi-detached houses of the same design as those in Zlin were built by local
builders, and equipped with Czech fittings. The houses look just like many
houses built in Central Europe. As Steve Rose wrote in The Guardian newspaper (19th June 2006):
“East
Tilbury doesn’t look like it belongs in Britain, let alone Essex, and in a
sense it doesn’t. It’s a little slice of 1930s Czechoslovakia, and the most
Modern town in Britain.”
Later,
more homes were built, but designed like many British suburban houses.
There
is a huge building across the main road opposite the factory buildings. Part of
its ground floor is now home to a Co-op supermarket. The whole building, which
has now been converted to flats, was the ‘Bata Hotel’. Until recently, the
Co-op was still named the Bata supermarket. One man, who has lived in the Bata
Estate for many years, told me that he recalled seeing swarms of workmen in
white protective clothing crossing the road from the factory and then entering
the hotel during their lunch-break. He told me that the first floor of the
hotel was a ‘restaurant’ for the factory workers.
I met this man in what is now
called ‘East Tilbury Village Hall’. This was formerly the Bata cinema.Looking somewhat Central European in design, the former cinema was undergoing much-needed electrical re-fitting. In a way, I was lucky because the workers had left the door open to a building that is often locked closed these days. I entered the foyer, which was being used to store the stock of the local public library. An office to the left of the foyer used to serve as the cinema’s ticket office. A couple of old-fashioned film posters have been put on the foyer’s walls to recreate what it used to be like.
A
man, who oversaw the hall’s maintenance, showed me the auditorium. It had a new
wooden floor marked out for indoor sports. He explained that the floor had been
‘sprung’ when it was laid originally. This was so that it could be used as a
dance-floor. The banked chairs for the audience were originally designed in an
ingenious way, only lately beginning to be employed in other much newer
buildings, so that they could be folded away when the hall was needed for, for
example, a dance. There was a proper theatre stage at the far end of the hall.
This still has the original stage lights that were fitted when the hall was
built. The old-fashioned control panel for this lighting was still in place.
My
guide then told me that beneath the stage, there was a reinforced bunker for
use during air-raids. He took me through a door at the back of the stage, and
then down some concrete steps. At the bottom, there was a heavy metal
sliding-door painted grey. He slid this open to reveal the large reinforced
concrete bunker beneath the stage. Its walls were thick. It is now used as a
storage area.
After
seeing the old cinema, I entered the large grassy area to the south of it. In
the centre of it, raised on a stepped plinth, there is a war memorial. The
memorial bears the words: “… to the memory of those of the British Bata Shoe
Company who gave their lives for freedom 1939-1945”. To the south of the
memorial park, there is a large field, now used for agricultural purposes, that
was once a Bata playing field.
Across
the road from the war memorial in the grounds of the factory, there is a statue
of Thomas Bata senior, who died in 1932. When I visited it many years ago (in
the late 1980s), it stood in a small green area, a little park. During my
recent visit (October 2017) it was surrounded by tall piles of sand being used
by building contractors.
Some
of the Bata factory buildings have already been modernised and are being used
for industrial or commercial operations. The main large derelict building,
which is surmounted by a water tank, might be destined for conversion into
‘loft apartments’ for residential use. One building, a small tall construction
near the main road, remains derelict at present. It might, one informant
suggested, have been used for milling activities.
During
the early 1980s, British Bata began greatly reducing its production activity at
East Tilbury. The Bata industrial estate finally closed in 2005. With the
closing of the British Bata firm, Bata shoe-retailers, which were common in
British high streets, have disappeared. The nearest Bata shoe store to the UK
is now in Best (just north of Eindhoven) in the Netherlands.
From
having been one of the bastions defending London from naval attack along the
River Thames, East Tilbury became home for an exciting and successful
industrial enterprise. Now, the extensive vestiges of this are being restored
and re-used in an attempt, which looks like being successful, to keep the area
alive and prosperous.
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