THROUGHOUT the Middle Ages, starting in the 11th century and reaching a peak in the early 14th, it was quite common practice for individuals to adopt what we today know as a locative (or toponymic) bi-name.

This was a sort of early surname, but one which denoted where the person was from. Examples include Ralph de Luffenham (as in the village in Rutland), who was vicar of Maldon All Saints from 1294 to 1361, John Colchester, the Abbot of Beeleigh in 1417, and, of course, Roger de Beeleigh, elected Bishop of London in 1228.

Another individual, who has almost been lost to history and rarely appears in published research, was Thomas de Langford. Whilst there are nine localities of this place name listed in the Domesday Book (including in Bedfordshire, Norfolk, Oxfordshire, Devon, Somerset and Wiltshire) Thomas’ Langford was undoubtedly our own.

The English archivist and antiquary, Sir Thomas Duffus Hardy (1804-1878), in volume three of his Catalogue of Materials Relating to the History of Great Britain &c, has Thomas “born near Maldon” and known subsequent events in his life reinforce the connection.

Born sometime during the close of the 13th, or early part of the 14th century, Thomas de Langford was clearly a man of intellect who studied at Cambridge, where he obtained the Degree of Doctor of Divinity.

His chosen career, some might say his calling, was as a humble Dominican Friar, a religious order of priests and brothers, founded in 1216.

Sometime between 1234 and 1277 (it is difficult to be more precise than that) they opened a friary in the Moulsham area of Chelmsford and Thomas de Langford became part of community, 30 or so in number. It was said that Thomas “flourished in 1320” - during the reign of Edward II.

He was recognised as a learned friar of his day and wrote at least four works - Chronicon Universale ab orbe condito ad sua tempora (a Universal Chronicle from the beginning of the world until his own time), Sermones (conversations), Disputationes (discussions) and Postilla super Job (on the Old Testament Book of Job).

Living in his friary just ten miles from Langford, Thomas must surely have occasionally returned home. As a member of what was a mendicant, preaching order, he may even have taken his ministry to the villagers he knew so well. The Dominicans sought to teach both the clergy and everyday folk by preaching publicly.

If so, what must they have thought when this local lad made good turned up in his black cappa, or cloak, over his white habit. Today, if you drive from Maldon to Chelmsford along the B1019, you might notice the restored platform of Langford and Ulting station (closed in 1964), you can’t fail to miss the Norman (or even Saxon) parish church of St Giles, the late 18th century façade of Mill House alongside the “new” mill (of 1879) and the Museum of Power, in the former 1920s pumping station, but then, in the blink of an eye or two, you will have passed through Langford.

But stop and take more time and it might just be possible to reconstruct the settlement as Thomas de Langford knew it.

As its name implies, there would have been a crossing of the Pant (the Blackwater) here – the Long Ford (or Longeford as it was in 1306).

It must have been a ford at this stage, as opposed to a bridge - as in the “Bridge of Langheforth” (Langford Bridge) at Kelvedon Hatch, named in 1344. The water course in question had powered a mill in Langford since Saxon times.

There were farmsteads with fertile ploughlands, dense woodland and marshy water meadows. And the residents who tilled the land worshipped in the little church which still services the community today.

Granted it was rather drastically restored by the Victorians in 1882, but Thomas de Langford would undoubtedly recognise the south wall of the nave and the unusual western apse. He may, or may not, have known the apse at the other east end (for it was probably demolished in the 14th, or as late as the 15th century). He certainly knew the doorway opening (of 1100), the small round headed windows and the 13th century double piscine, used for washing communion vessels.

Who knows, he might even have used the piscine himself whilst officiating in his former parish church. This is all supposition of course, for we know so little about this enigmatic character.

He disappears from the record post 1320, none of his published works survive, his friary was pulled down in 1538, but his name endures – Thomas, a man of God who was proud to let people know he hailed from the land of the Long Ford.