I MUST admit that I am quite partial to the odd oyster (or half dozen).
As this is a family newspaper, I will quickly pass over one of the mollusc’s alleged qualities, but for me the oyster represents a number of special things – history (the shells often appear on archaeological sites), Maldon’s river (particularly the Blackwater Wild variety of oyster) and more than a touch of indulgence.
Although we now think of oysters as an exclusive, luxury food, historically they were a cheap, proletarian dish that was readily available to the masses.
Just like Maldon salt, oysters have been a feature of our estuary since at least Roman times – cultivated, harvested and consumed by those early inhabitants and for centuries afterwards.
In the course of local excavations, I have come across hundreds of their shells on digs at places like 12th Century Beeleigh Abbey, on various sites in the High Street and whilst searching for the town’s Anglo-Saxon ‘Burh’ fort in the London Road area.
Research reveals that, during the 16th Century, the borough even had its own oyster fishery, but this appears to have been leased to “outsiders”.
We know that in 1609 a resident called Rose Hearse had long been selling surplus Blackwater oysters at nearby Chelmsford Market, but there is also evidence of a flourishing trade within the town boundary itself.
Sometimes oysters were even used as a bit of an inducement. Two ‘firkins’ worth were given to Sir Julius Caesar (yes, that really was his name), the borough’s high steward from 1610 to 1636, for services rendered to the corporation. Lavish amounts were also provided by the bailiffs to local gentry dining at the sign of the Blue Boar.
In 1648, Colonel (‘Black Tom’) Fairfax passed this way with his army on route to the Siege of Colchester and Maldon residents gave him a snack of oysters as sustenance and to doubtless win his pleasure.
The annual lease of our oyster beds provided a much needed income for the town and documentary evidence indicates that, by the early 18th Century at least, there were some “oyster pits” alongside the edge of the river (roughly where Cook’s Yard/the Topsail Charters’ office is today). Those pits were successively owned by the Willingale and (from 1760) Coe families, who became very wealthy on the proceeds.
A hundred years or so later, however, intensive oyster dredging was creating something of a shortage. But the hot summer of 1876 caused “a fertility to the oyster beds that hadn’t been known for some time”.
At that point the price per dozen had risen from just a shilling to a staggering 3/6d and overall the trade was said to be worth five million pounds a year.
Parliament concluded that oyster beds needed protection and should all be licensed. Companies looked to apply for exclusive rights in the Blackwater and Maldon’s fishermen, not least our oystermen, were up in arms – after all the oysters, they reckoned, would end up in France to the determent of home consumption (and their pockets).
Not that they would have taken much notice of the granting of rights. Even when the ‘Oyster and Mussel Fisheries Act’ of 1879 came into being, Maldon smacks were still seen regularly dropping their nets on licensed grounds, including those of the Tollesbury Oyster Company. I still recall allegations of oyster poaching here as late as the 1970s.
So it is with that rich and chequered heritage in mind that I usually turn to a plate of oysters whenever they are on the menu.
Just like ‘Black Tom’, I occasionally journey to Colchester (albeit by car and not on a horse). Whenever we visit I like to call in to my favourite watering-hole – Grade II*, 18th Century GreyFriars at the top of East Hill.
In their award-winning restaurant they serve oysters. Sadly they are not Maldon, but Mersea Rocks are available all year round and Colchester natives from October to March.
A dish of three on ice, complete with a slice of lemon, shallot vinegar and Tabasco are, in the words of another writer “the keys to Heaven”.
On one memorable occasion I was enjoying the first of three when I bit on something hard. At first I thought I had lost a filling, but it turned out to be a pearl.
It was an exciting find, the odds of which are said to be around one in 10,000.
The pearl is only small, but I was determined to do something with it. Returning to Maldon, I went to see my friends at the Jewellery Design Workshop, at 9a High Street, to see what they could make.
The imaginative result is a truly stunning and unique necklace – a small silver Lobster Pot, inscribed “GreyFriars” with the date and with the pearl rolling around inside.
- The pearl inspired this unique piece of jewellery
The only problem I have now is who is going to wear it – my wife, or Colchester resident daughter?
Oh well, I will just have to keep indulging until I find another one!
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