Fergus Suter and Jimmy Love: The First Professional Footballers, Part 1

Whilst looking for something to watch on Netflix recently, The English Game kept popping up as a recommended programme to watch. From the trailer, it’s clear to see that this period drama of a different sort is based on the class struggles that dominated the early years of football, or soccer to you American readers, as a standardised game in the late nineteenth century. Anyone who knows me will know I hate sports of any kind really. I was the despair of my P.E. teacher at school, who I remember asking my mum if there was any sort of physical activity I liked at all. Still, football has seemed to surround me a little bit lately, whether I like it or not.

I’m currently an archives assistant on a coal mining project at my county’s local archives, which focuses on the health and welfare provided for miners by their employers. Sport, especially football, was a large part of this. Many local mining teams produced top players, who went on to play for well-known professional football clubs, and they even had their own leagues too. For me, the part that interested me was the social and class aspects surrounding the game. That reason, as well as The English Game being written by Julian Fellows, the writer of one of my favourite period dramas, Downton Abbey, was what persuaded me to watch. Little did I realise the research rabbit hole this would lead me down and the discovery of the interesting lives of Fergus Suter and Jimmy Love, the Scottish players shown in the series, who are seen as the game’s first professional players. As both their stories are worth exploring in detail, I thought it would be best to do a post on each of them.

Netflix’s The English Game (2020)

Football has been around for centuries. Prior to the establishment of the Cambridge Rules written in 1848, football didn’t have a set of standard rules throughout the country. It varied depending on location and was more similar to what we now call Rugby. Ashbourne in Derbyshire, not far from where I live, still plays this form of the game once a year and is known as Shrovetide Football. The whole town plays in a giant scrum and it all looks very messy. The English Football Association (FA), created in 1863, made teams use the rules created in 1848, but it heavily relied on upper class teams from universities and private schools, who made up the board for it. The Scottish Football Association followed ten years later in 1873. It was in this environment that Fergus Suter and Jimmy Love began playing football from the mid-1870s.

Fergus Suter was born in Glasgow in 1857 as the son of an Irish stonemason who had moved to Scotland in search of work. Just like his father, Fergus went into the stonemason trade and became a stonemason’s apprentice.[1] Partick, the area of Glasgow he grew up in, was known for it’s football club, although initially this was a different team than Partick Thistle who play now. Suter, as well as Jimmy, were two of the first players for the team after its formation in 1876, as many working-class men played for football clubs in their spare time. Fergus’ brother, Edward, also played for Partick. However, Fergus left in the autumn of 1878 and moved to Darwen in Lancashire, following in the footsteps of his teammate Jimmy Love. Andy Mitchell who has done extensive research into the lives of both players suggests that Suter left due to financial worries when Partick stonemasons went on strike about pay.[2]

Fergus Suter, Blackburn Rovers full-back, from 1880 to 1889, The Cottontown Digitisation Project, Wikimedia Commons

It may sound strange now to think that players moved so far away from their home teams before the game had become professional, but the Scottish players, particularly those who played for Partick were sought after by the Lancashire teams. The Scottish players were much more experimental with their game strategies, opting for combination playing involving all members of the team, rather than the rather messy one preferred by the English teams.[3] The introduction of this new way of playing soon became more popular and helped to raise standards as a whole. The Scottish players brought to Lancashire by the football clubs were found jobs in workplaces that would allow time for training and playing the game and would ensure travel expenses and compensation for lost earnings.[4] This was perfectly acceptable behaviour as this allowed the game to continue to be amateur as by the rules. However, Suter admitted in a press interview given in 1902, that he and some of the other players, were being paid to play, not a regular amount, but £10 (around £660 in today’s money) when necessary.[5] At that time, the payments were considerably more than the average earnings of either unskilled or skilled labourers.[6] It’s no wonder that Suter very quickly gave up his job as a stonemason and solely relied upon the money he was earning from football. This made him the first official professional player in footballing history.

In February 1879, the Darwen team showed how far they had come, hoping to make the toffs of football and the FA. take working-class teams seriously. They played the Old Etonians, one of the main teams at the time, who’s players made up the board of the FA. itself. At half time the Old Etonians were winning 5-1, but by the end of the match, it was a 5-5 draw. In those days, extra time wasn’t a given and it had to be decided before a match or it would have to be replayed if a draw was the final result. The first rematch was a 2-2 draw, and the Old Etonians only just won the third match, going on to win the FA Cup for that season. Darwen had made history for being the first northern team to get to the quarter finals of the FA Cup.[7]

Despite the success Fergus had with Darwen, he moved on to play for Blackburn, another Lancashire team. Blackburn had bribed Suter with £100, around £6,600 in today’s money to make the move.[8] Family legend has also speculated that Suter made the move because of fathering an illegitimate child.[9] Whatever the reason, he went on to win the FA Cup with them three times and stayed with the team for nearly a decade until he retired in 1888. Following his retirement, he remained in Blackburn, but by then working as a publican, until just prior to his death in 1916.[10]

The Blackburn Rovers Team for the 1884-85 and 1885-86 Seasons, Wikimedia Commons

Fergus Suter is now well remembered as the first professional player in the football game. He was part of a team of innovators that helped create the game that is known around the world today. However, that is not the end of his story. Following the release of The English Game, his grave in Blackburn Old Cemetery has been restored, with the work finishing just last month. Blackburn Rovers have helped for the restoration of the original headstone and a new memorial stone has been placed on it to show his contribution to football.[11]

More on Jimmy Love will be coming up in part two, who has an even more interesting, though tragic story to tell. In the meantime, if you would like to know more about Jimmy, Fergus and Partick, I would thoroughly recommend Andy Mitchell’s blog on Scottish Sport, where most of this information is referenced from. He was a research consultant on The English Game. He has also written books on the subject, including one about Arthur Kinnaird, another character in the English Game, who went on to be a President of the FA.


[1] Mitchell, A., ‘From Partick With Love- The Story of Jimmy Love and Fergie Suter, the First Professional Footballers’, Scottish Sport History, https://www.scottishsporthistory.com/sports-history-news-and-blog/from-partick-with-love-the-story-of-jimmy-love-and-fergie-suter-the-first-professional-footballers

[2] Mitchell, A., ‘From Partick With Love- The Story of Jimmy Love and Fergie Suter’

[3] Mitchell, A., ‘From Partick With Love- The Story of Jimmy Love and Fergie Suter,’

[4] Huggins, M., The Victorians and Sport (London: Hambledon and London, 2004), p. 131.

[5] Mitchell, A., ‘From Partick With Love- The Story of Jimmy Love and Fergie Suter’

[6] Huggins, M., The Victorians and Sport, p. 131.

[7] Mitchell, A., ‘From Partick With Love- The Story of Jimmy Love and Fergie Suter’

[8] Huggins, M., The Victorians and Sport, p. 131.

[9] Mitchell, A., ‘From Partick With Love- The Story of Jimmy Love and Fergie Suter’

[10] Mitchell, A., ‘From Partick With Love- The Story of Jimmy Love and Fergie Suter’

[11] Blackburn Rovers, ‘Magical’ Memorial as Rovers Celebrate Suter’s Memorable Milestone, https://www.rovers.co.uk/news/2021/april/magical-memorial-as-rovers-celebrate-suters-memorable-milestone/

Highgate Cemetery

Highgate Cemetery in London is perhaps one of the most curious and unique sights in the whole of the city. It is certainly one that I have wanted to visit myself for a long time. As I live so far away from London, it’s still on the list for places to go at some point in the future. For those of you unfamiliar with the cemetery, you may be asking why a place of burial would be a good place to visit. It is actually well known for its unique architecture, most notably the Circle of Lebanon, a circle of burial vaults designed in the style of classical architecture. Whilst the cemetery now boasts some renown, I only discovered recently how the very existence of this amazing place full of history and notable people was once under threat.

Highgate Cemetery from Prickett, F. and Potter, G. W’s, The History and Antiquities of Highgate, Middlesex (1842), British Library

During the early part of the nineteenth century, London’s population was booming, sadly so too was its death rate. The inner-city plots allocated for burials were unable to cope with the sheer numbers of burials needed. This meant that bodies were very much placed into the same graves as strangers, and even given quick lime to help them decompose quicker to make room for future burials! For public health reasons, the authorities decided new and better provisions needed to be made.[1] Many new out of city places were brought, including the site that would become Highgate Cemetery. Initially, 17 acres of land, costing £3,500 (or around £211,000 in today’s money) were brought in 1836, with the cemetery officially opening three years later.[2]

People of all classes were buried at the cemetery, but it is the richer plots for which the cemetery became well-known for. Architecture based on Gothic, Egyptian and Classical architecture all became a draw for people, making it a unique place to be buried. The wealthy competed for more elaborate grave monuments to add to the existing architecture of the chapels and vaults. This competition certainly encouraged others to be buried at the site.[3] In total, there are around 850 notable people buried there, ranging from author, George Eliot, Karl Marx, and Elizabeth Siddal, a model for many famous Pre-Raphaelite paintings.[4] Karl Marx’s grave at the cemetery is said to be the most visited grave in London.[5] My favourite story is of bare-knuckle fighter, Tom Sayers, who had the biggest funeral held at the cemetery, possibly even in the whole of London, which was attended by 10,000 people, with his beloved dog as the chief mourner.[6] Sayers was popular because he was known to fight opponents who were bigger than himself, but only ever lost one fight in his career.[7]

Photograph of Tom Sayers with his trophies taken by F. W. Nicholls (1860), Wikimedia Commons

For many years, the cemetery was the place to be buried and it had to be extended by another 20 acres in 1856.[8] This popularity wasn’t to last those as it began to decline following the First World War. Many of the gardeners who worked there were called up to fight, leaving the site looking a bit shabby. From then on, a slow decline in popularity occurred until 1975, when The Friends of Highgate Cemetery was established to restore and maintain the site.[9] Now the cemetery is known to attract not just tourists, but also all kinds of wildlife.

It has become a place of historic interest, but also an active public space. Talks, tours and other events are often used to cater for the needs of visitors, giving it new meaning and life, just those buried there, but those living who are connected to the place, whether they be members of staff, the Friends group that run it, local, and of course the visitors.[10] The most recent high profile burial at Highgate is that of George Michael who sadly died in 2017. Whilst his death is still very current and still private, I hope that with time, he too will come to be looked on with the same reverence that is given to the older burials in the cemetery.

J. Armagh, Egyptian Avenue, Highgate Cemetery (2007), Wikimedia Commons

[1] Highgate Cemetery, https://highgatecemetery.org/about/history

[2] Highgate Cemetery, https://highgatecemetery.org/about/history

[3] Highgate Cemetery, https://highgatecemetery.org/about/history

[4] Johnson, B., ‘Highgate Cemetery’, Historic UK, https://www.historic-uk.com/HistoryMagazine/DestinationsUK/Highgate-Cemetery/

[5] Highgate Cemetery, https://highgatecemetery.org/about/history

[6] Highgate Cemetery, https://highgatecemetery.org/about/history

[7] Britannica Encyclopaedia, Tom Sayer, https://www.britannica.com/biography/Tom-Sayers

[8] Highgate Cemetery, https://highgatecemetery.org/about/history

[9] Highgate Cemetery, https://highgatecemetery.org/about/history

[10] Mader, M., ‘Public Events at a Historic-Religious Site’, in Mader, M., Saviello, A. and Scolari, B. (eds), Highgate Cemetery: Image Practices in Past and Present (Baden-Baden: Nomos Verlagsgesellschaft Mbh & Co, 2020), p. 180.

Pontefract Castle and John Morris: How an English Civil War Siege was Undone by Beds

Pontefract Castle in Yorkshire has been a place of power ever since he was originally built during the Norman Period. It became a place of royal power after it was brought into royal hands in the 12th century, after the power struggles during the reign of Henry I. For me, the castle means a lot as the place that Anthony Woodville, my favourite historical figure, his nephew, Richard Grey, and his friend, Thomas Vaughn, were executed in 1483. The years of the English Civil War in the 1640s continued this tumultuous history when it was besieged 3 times.[1] In fact, the consequences of the last siege in 1648, following the Parliamentarians gaining control of the castle ended in an interesting, even somewhat comical, way.

The Royalists were determined to again take possession of the castle. None was more enthusiastic than the Yorkshireman, Colonel John Morris. He was known for carrying on fighting at both the Battle of Nantwich and Middlewich, despite being on the losing side.[2] However, following the fall of Royal forces at Liverpool, he briefly switched sides. It is thought that this was because of a soldiers’ desire to win, rather than any heartfelt gesture. As Edward Hyde, the Earl of Clarendon (also a very distant ancestor of mine), noted on Morris’ decision to change sides, this didn’t help him with the Parliamentarians either, for they “left him out in their compounding of their new army”.[3] The lack of acceptance made him once again return to his Royalist roots and he found himself assisting in the third siege at Pontefract Castle.

Pontefract Castle during the Siege of 1645 in, “Supplement to the Sieges of Pontefract Castle, etc”, British Library

The original plan was to scale the walls using ladders, but the men Morris commanded had got a little too drunk beforehand and they ended up being disturbed by the guards but weren’t captured.[4] Following this attempt at entering the castle, there were orders to employ more men at garrison inside the castle. This meant more beds were needed for these extra men, so Morris and his men were able to successfully disguise themselves by carrying beds into the castle.[5] It’s almost beyond belief, but this strategy worked, and the Royalists were able to take charge of the castle. The Parliamentarians were placed in the dungeons and many of their names were carved into the walls.[6] In direct response, other Parliamentarians in the area were sent to ransack John Morris’ house in the West Riding of Yorkshire. They stole £1,000 (around £103,500 in today’s money) in goods, and £1,800 (just over £186,000 in today’s money) in cash.[7]

The Royalists held Pontefract for around 9 months in total, even well after the Parliamentarians had officially won the war. It wasn’t until the execution of Charles I in January 1649 at Whitehall in London, that the garrison finally realised that they would have to surrender. Even so, just as before, Morris wasn’t willing to give in without having his final say. He made demands that he said had to be met before he would allow the garrison to surrender. He specifically asked for an armed convoy home and for all the men to be exempt from prosecution or being sued for their parts on the Royalist side.[8] These terms proved too much, and it was finally agreed that only Morris and 5 others would be exempt, but this proved to be a trick so they would leave the castle.[9] One man was shot when they left and Morris escaped, but went on the run. He was found 10 days later and sent to York to be condemned to death as a traitor, but again he briefly escaped.[10] He was eventually executed on 23rd of August 1649.

Pontefract Castle as of 2016 (Author’s Own Image)

The Parliamentarians, especially Oliver Cromwell, never forgot how stupid they were made to look when John Morris and his men had taken over the castle at Pontefract. Cromwell saw it as such a troublesome place than instead of the customary slighting, where a castle was partially damaged, he ordered and paid the townspeople of Pontefract to destroy it.[11] To this day, the castle is a former shadow of itself. It’s very hard to imagine what the castle had once looked like prior to the destruction as there is so little left of it. Thankfully, there are some lovely images available to give a sense of what that might have been like. Whatever that may have been, you can’t help but commend John Morris for his tenacity and quick thinking when it came to infiltrating Pontefract Castle by using just beds.


[1] Exploring Castles, Pontefract Castle: History of England’s Most Fearsome Fort, https://www.exploring-castles.com/uk/england/pontefract_castle/

[2] Cooper, S., The Bravest Cavalier: John Morris & The Siege of Pontefract Castle, 1648-9 (2014), http://www.chivalryandwar.co.uk/Resource/THE%20BRAVEST%20CAVALIER.pdf, p. 21

[3] Clarendon cited in Cooper, S., The Bravest Cavalier, p. 21.

[4] Pontefract Castle, Stories, https://www.pontefractcastle.co.uk/Castle-Stories.aspx; Thomas Paulden cited in Cooper, S., The Bravest Cavalier, p. 21.

[5] Earls of Manchester, Sieging and besieged: who were the soldiers who fought to control Pontefract Castle?, https://earlofmanchesters.co.uk/sieging-and-besieged-who-were-the-soldiers-who-fought-to-control-pontefract-castle/

[6] Cooper, S., The Bravest Cavalier, p. 49.

[7] Cooper, S., The Bravest Cavalier, p. 50.

[8] Earls of Manchester, Sieging and besieged: who were the soldiers who fought to control Pontefract Castle?, https://earlofmanchesters.co.uk/sieging-and-besieged-who-were-the-soldiers-who-fought-to-control-pontefract-castle/

[9] Earls of Manchester, Sieging and besieged: who were the soldiers who fought to control Pontefract Castle?, https://earlofmanchesters.co.uk/sieging-and-besieged-who-were-the-soldiers-who-fought-to-control-pontefract-castle/

[10] Earls of Manchester, Sieging and besieged: who were the soldiers who fought to control Pontefract Castle?, https://earlofmanchesters.co.uk/sieging-and-besieged-who-were-the-soldiers-who-fought-to-control-pontefract-castle/; Pontefract Castle, Stories, https://www.pontefractcastle.co.uk/Castle-Stories.aspx;

[11] Exploring Castles, Pontefract Castle: History of England’s Most Fearsome Fort, https://www.exploring-castles.com/uk/england/pontefract_castle/

A Riot, a Dog and The George Hotel in Reading- Guest Post by Jo Romero

Jo Romero has been obsessed with history for as long as she can remember and gained her History degree at the University of Hull. Her articles have been published in online magazines The Historians and The C Word and she runs the blog Love British History.

Reading, King Street: September 1639. The town constables skidded to a stop outside The George hotel to shrieks of murder. Their eyes were met with a grisly scene. Moaning townsmen clutching their heads lay scattered across cobblestones, deep red blood oozing from their scalps and dripping down past their ears and onto their shoulders.

Reading in Berkshire was a small, prosperous town that had become famous for its Medieval abbey, founded by Henry I in 1121. Parliaments were held within its pale, cold walls and Edward IV chose it as the place to formally introduce his new bride, Elizabeth Woodville in 1464. Trades sprang up to cater for travellers who came to worship and do business with the abbey –  the royalty, nobles and pilgrims. But since Henry VIII’s dissolution, Reading concentrated on its market days and clothing industry with clothiers and shoemakers working in the town.

Photograph of The George by Jo Romero

Seventeenth-century Reading was the smell of bonfires, the barking of dogs and the furtive, eager glances of pick-pockets and cut-purses loitering in the busy market square. The malty scent of alehouses and taverns and the sharp, musty tang of leather workshops. The earthy, metallic sting of fresh meat wafted out from Butcher’s Row and the bells clanged out from church towers. Alehouses, taverns and inns were always in demand, tucked awkwardly into timber-framed streets, signs swinging above their doors with names like The Katherine Wheele, The Bear and The Sun.

Samuel Pepys visited Reading in the summer of 1668 and wrote that the town “is a very great one, I think bigger than Salsbury: a river runs through it, in seven branches, and unite in one, in one part of the town, and runs into the Thames half-a-mile off one odd sign of the Broad Face.”(1) The Broad Face was another pub on the High Street almost opposite The George.

All important town business – debts, rents and petty crime – was written down in the Corporation Diary. They were mostly concerned with mundane minutes of council meetings, the execution of wills and enforcing trade regulations, but on 21st September 1639, we can almost detect the breathless excitement of the minute-taker, as they recorded the events at the inn:

“Then complaynt was made that murder was likely to be commytted in The George backside, for there was fyghting; whereupon the Constables were presently called, and at their comynge to keep the peace they found a number of people, amongest whiche some had their heades broken and cutt with swordes and staves, and some of the fighters and quarrellers gone.” They add, with a trace of both bewilderment and derision: “And beinge brought before the Maiour, upon examynacion, it apeared the quarrell arose about a dogge.” (2)

At first glance, it seems far too serious a fight to have been over a dog. Could it have been that some drunken haggling over the sale of a dog spiralled out of control? Or perhaps the dog had been stolen and was recognised by the original owner leading to a confrontation?

A detail in the town’s diary for January 1641 might give us a clue. It records the case of a butcher named Edward Vindge who “caused a tumult in The George gate-house, by settinge and causinge dog-fightinge and other brabbles.” He also struck a man called Humfrey Dewell, and “abused him in wordes”.(3) Edward Vindge isn’t mentioned as being involved in the 1639 attack, but the fact that we have evidence of dog fighting in Reading, in this very spot, suggests that it may have been common and certainly had the potential to disturb the peace. Perhaps one of the two men implicated in 1639 (William Keate and a certain man named Cumber of Tilehurst) were training dogs to fight, or it was a bet placed on a disputed winner?

While many people think of Stuart life as a cosy huddle of timber-framed houses and cobbled streets there was, to us looking back today, a darker side, particularly in their choice of entertainment. Dog fights and bear baiting were famously enjoyed by Elizabeth I and continued into the reigns of the Stuarts. In 1666 Samuel Pepys travelled to Southwark to watch a bull baiting, “and saw some good sport of the bull’s tossing of the dogs.”(4) A dog fight in 1629 in Greenwich was one of the events blamed for the onset of Queen Henrietta Maria’s early labour after they did “snatch at her and pull her by the gown.” (5)

Baiting a live bull with dogs before it was slaughtered by a butcher wasn’t just for entertainment – the Stuarts also believed that it made the meat more tender, perhaps explaining the temperament of butcher Edward Vindge’s dogs at The George in 1641. A writer who in 1660 spoke out to discourage these baiting sports proclaimed that although ‘the baiting of the bear, and cockfights, are no meet recreations,’ he drew attention to this practice, accepting that ‘the baiting of the bull has its use.’(6)

The Stuart townspeople of Reading might not have blinked an eye at a dog fight or a bull being baited outside the butcher’s shop, but the loud clatter of swords clashing at the local inn must have been a subject of local gossip.

The men who were injured – five men are recorded as having been at the scene, but it’s possible there were others – lived to tell the tale. Two men blamed for inflicting injuries fled the scene, but Thomas Soundey is recorded as suffering cuts to his head, and Morrice Nashe, for whom “blood was seene run about his eares.” The Constables called the surgeon, who confirmed the men were in “no danger of death.”(2)

For the town’s mayor, Richard Burren, it was business as usual. First mentioned in the diary in 1618 as a Constable of the town, he was a clothier by trade and sworn in as Mayor in October 1638. Unusual for Reading mayors, who tended to be re-elected more than once, he served just one year. This incident would have come during his last serving month. He would stay on in a different role as a town justice and overseer of St Laurence’s parish. He dutifully brought in the people involved, questioned the ones that hadn’t run away and concluded the cause.

It’s true that daily Stuart life was probably not as inherently violent as most TV dramas and films make it out to be, but this case shows that there were occasional hot-tempered outbursts involving weapons and risk to life. The exact details of the cause of the fight are missing from the records, and so we can only speculate as to the real trigger. This scrawled entry in the town’s diary does give us a glimpse into how crime was dealt with in Stuart towns and how important the clothing industry still was to Reading, with a wealthy clothier able to advance to various positions within town administration, including Mayor. Today, as shoppers grab coffee and chat with friends they would have no idea that on this spot blood was violently spilled on the cobblestones of The George on that late September day in 1639.

Notes:

  1. The Diary of Samuel Pepys, 16 June 1668.
  2. The Reading Records, The Diary of the Corporation, entry for 21 September 1639. Ed. JM Guilding. Vol 3. p464. 1892.
  3. The Reading Records, The Diary of the Corporation, entry for 12 January 1641. Ed. JM Guilding, Vol 4. p37. 1892.
  4. The Diary of Samuel Pepys, 14 August 1666.
  5. Katie Whitaker, A Royal Passion: The Turbulent Marriage of Charles I and Henrietta Maria, 2010, Google Books.
  6. The Harleian Miscellany, vol 7. The Opinion of Mr Perkins, and Mr Bolton, and Others Concerning The Sport of Cock-Fighting, 1660. Ed. by R Dutton, 1810. Accessed via Google Books.

Fastolf Place: The London Home of Sir John Fastolf

Sir John Fastolf was a veteran of the Hundred Years War in France. He spent around 30 years there and was often charged with the responsibility of various castles, forts, and towns, as well as being a member of the Duke of Bedford, the Regent of France’s, household.[1] His military career proved to be a profitable one and on his retirement in 1439, aged nearly 60, he built himself great houses. The main one that remains, albeit in ruins, is Caister Castle in Norfolk. I have already done a post on that which can be found here. However, the other place he split his time when he was needed in London for business or other reasons, was Fastolf Place in Southwark.

Parker, Sir John Fastolf, © National Portrait Gallery, London

Fastolf rented the site, which was then known as Dunley Place after a previous family of owners, almost as soon as he returned to England. He must have found it homely as he decided to buy it in 1446 and soon went about renovating it to his own taste. The previous site had a watermill and many houses, but this was all about to change.[2] After the new site was transformed into a modern moated manor house, it had a wharf to move people and goods up the Thames, gardens, drawbridge, stables, bakehouse, and larder house.[3] The amount of money he spent on it shows just how much money he had acquired from his time in France. To buy the place he paid £546, 13 shillings and 4 pence (around £351,500 in today’s money); the renovations cost £1,000 (or around £643,000 today).[4]

Fastolf Place had a varied history. Before it was a private residence, it had once been a nunnery, but even in Fastolf’s lifetime, it had changed from peaceful surroundings, to one of turmoil. With the accession of Henry VI, the wars in France that had been such a huge part of Fastolf’s life were slowly coming apart. The English possession in Northern France, particularly Normandy, had reverted to French hands. This was upsetting for large parts of the general populous who had seen Normandy as an English right.[5] Jack Cade’s Rebellion of 1450 was partly fuelled by this upheaval. These rebels marched and occupied London, hoping that the Government would do something about the demands they had. Fastolf wasn’t immune to this as Fastolf Place was threatened by the rebels as they claimed Fastolf was a traitor for being a part of the Normandy army, despite being retired for some time by 1450.[6] It was only because of a servant who risked his life and was himself threatened with having his head cut off, that saved the residence.[7]

Fastolf Place on the Londinvm Feracissimi Angliae Regni Metropolis, 1572

John Fastolf died at Fastolf Place on the 5th of November 1459 aged 79, but that was not the end of the building’s history. It passed onto the Bishop of Winchester, William Waynflete, who founded Magdalen College at the University of Oxford.[8] He finally sold the site to give money to the college in 1484, but not before he had briefly rented the house out to Cecily, the Duchess of York, in the late summer of 1460.[9] Both she and her youngest children, George (future Duke of Clarence), Richard (future Richard III), and Margaret (future Duchess of Burgundy), used the house as a safe place following the Yorkish victory at the Battle of Northampton in July 1460.[10] This was probably thought to be a safer place to stay than anywhere closer to the City of London. Cecily didn’t stay there long but left her children behind in the care of the household and their older brother Edward, Earl of March (future Edward IV), who visited them there every day.[11]

After the house left the ownership of the Bishop of Winchester, it passed through many tenants, including Sir Thomas Cockayne of Ashbourne in Derbyshire during Edward VI’s reign.[12] These types of people were on a similar social standing to John Fastolf, so there is certainly some continuation there. The last mention there is to the house Fastolf knew was in a lease in 1663.[13] When excavations took place in the area surrounding the known site of the townhouse in the 1980s and 1990s, remains of it were never found, suggesting that anything that was left over had been destroyed by later building projects.[14]

The site of the Boar’s Head, Southwark, London: map of the borough with key. Etching, 1755. Credit: Wellcome CollectionAttribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0)

Whilst there are no remains of Fastolf Place, other buildings owned by John Fastolf in the Southwark area did last longer. He owned some houses and a pub known as the Boar’s Head along the Borough High Street of Southwark. The Boar’s Head was part of a court of buildings which made up the pub and 10 to 12 houses.[15] All of these were owned by Fastolf after his return to England. These remained until 1830 when they were demolished to make way for extensions of nearby St Thomas’ Hospital.[16]


[1] Cooper, S., The Real Falstaff: Sir John Fastolf and the Hundred Years War (Barnsley: Pen & Sword, 2010), p. 37.

[2] Cooper, S., The Real Falstaff, p. 138.

[3] Carlin, M., ‘Sir John Fastolf’s Place, Southwark: The Home of the Duke of York’s Family, 1460’, The Ricardian, 5.72 (1981), p. 312; Cooper, S., The Real Falstaff, p. 138.

[4] Carlin, M., ‘Sir John Fastolf’s Place, Southwark’, p. 311.

[5] Cooper, S., The Real Falstaff, p. 118.

[6] N. Davis (ed), The Paston Letters and Papers, Part 2 (1976) cited in Carlin, M., ‘Sir John Fastolf’s Place, Southwark’, p. 312.

[7] Cooper, S., The Real Falstaff, p. 122.

[8] Walford, E., ‘Southwark: Famous inns’, in Old and New London: Volume 6 (London, 1878), pp. 76-89. British History Online http://www.british-history.ac.uk/old-new-london/vol6/pp76-89

[9] Carlin, M., ‘Sir John Fastolf’s Place, Southwark’, p. 312.

[10] Carlin, M., ‘Sir John Fastolf’s Place, Southwark’, p. 311.

[11] N. Davis (ed), The Paston Letters and Papers, Part 2 (1976) cited in Carlin, M., ‘Sir John Fastolf’s Place, Southwark’, p. 311.

[12] Carlin, M., ‘Sir John Fastolf’s Place, Southwark’, p. 313.

[13] Magdalen College, Oxford: Lease of Southwark Watermills 1663, cited in Carlin, M., ‘Sir John Fastolf’s Place, Southwark’, p. 313.

[14] Cooper, S., The Real Falstaff, p. 120.

[15] Walford, E., ‘Southwark: Famous inns’, in Old and New London: Volume 6 (London, 1878), pp. 76-89. British History Online http://www.british-history.ac.uk/old-new-london/vol6/pp76-89

[16] Walford, E., ‘Southwark: Famous inns’, in Old and New London: Volume 6 (London, 1878), pp. 76-89. British History Online http://www.british-history.ac.uk/old-new-london/vol6/pp76-89

Madam C. J. Walker: America’s First Self-Made Female Millionaire

Being an English person, I hadn’t heard of Madam C J Walker, the first self-made, black female millionaire in America. I came across her by pure accident Whilst scrolling through Netflix for something to watch, I found Self Made, the recent drama about Madam C J Walker’s success in creating hair products made for, sold by, and targeted at black women. I must admire her tenacity at a time when black women were trapped in hardworking roles in farm labour or laundry, she wanted to make a better life, not just for herself, but all black women.

Madam C J Walker was born as Sarah Breedlove on the 23rd of December 1867 as the fifth child of Owen and Minerva. She was the first of their children to be born after the emancipation following the American Civil War. From a young age, this meant she would have known exactly what hard work and racism was. Perhaps she would have even thought that through hard work, she could prove her worth. Sadly, this wasn’t the end of hardship in the early part of her life as she was orphaned at 6 and married Moses Williams at 14 to escape her abusive brother-in-law.[1] By the age of twenty, she was a young widow with a young daughter, A’Lelia.

After the death of Moses, she took on laundry to earn money, as well as balancing motherhood, so there is no doubt she led a busy and stressful life.[2] It was during this time that she developed a scalp problem, which made her lose a lot of her hair, and started trying various hair products to make her hair grow back. Her enterprising nature realised just how little hair products were available for black women. A lot of what was there was made by white businesses, who didn’t really have a clue how to market to a black audience. Instead, they appeared to conform to white ideas of beauty were, assuming that black women wanted the same look, especially as there was a desire to aspire to ‘whiteness’.[3] In that respect, Madam Walker was different. Her products focused on the benefits of healthy hair, rather than just for beauty. The products focused on scalp preparations and lotions aiming at promoting hair health.[4]

Madam C.J. Walker—Preparations, 1920, Photograph, https://www.loc.gov/item/2002716791/

Sarah took on the name Madam C J Walker after her marriage to Charles J Walker in 1906 after they moved from St Louis to Denver, Colorado. Charles was initially supportive of the business venture and he was often involved in the marketing and advertising of products.[5] This lasted until the couple grew apart and eventually divorced. Sarah still went by the name Madam C J Walker until her death because her products used the same name.

Despite some innovations in the style of products, it was the way that the business was run that was truly innovative. When her business started to grow, Sarah’s business model changed from her selling direct to customers, she hired door-to-door sellers. These sellers were all black women who were purposefully trained to develop their skills, not just in selling Madam Walker’s products, but finding innovative ways to help the poor in their communities.[6] Sarah’s belief in the enterprising nature of black women is clear in her confrontation of Booker T. Washington’s business convention in 1912. He had denied both her, and anyone else attempting to speak on her behalf, any opportunity of presenting. It was claimed this was because he believed Madam C J Walker’s beauty products, as well any aimed at black women, were destructive to black women and instead encouraged white behaviours.[7] Sarah believed in her product and how the business could become a positive thing. Indeed, it was as it would go on to employ an estimated 20,000 sales agents across America and beyond.[8]

Madam C. J. Walker, c. 1914, Scurlock Studio (Washington, D.C.), Wikimedia Commons

The company became a safe “public sphere of leisure, labour, and politics” which black women could participate in.[9] Madam Walker herself did this through raising the profile of racism and inequality for black people during the early 20th century. Not only did she attend the White House in 1917 to protest against lynching, but she gave much of her wealth away to help black causes.[10] It helped to fund a scholarship for women at the Tuskegee Institute, just to name one.[11]

Sarah died of kidney failure caused by hypertension in 1919 at the age of 51, at one of her 3 large houses. In her will she left two-thirds of the company’s net profits to the charities and schools she had promoted in life.[12] Her main legacy is the promotion of black female talent by creating a female run business, purposefully designed to promote the health, happiness, and equality of black women. This certainly continues as the business has since passed on to the subsequent female generations of Sarah’s family.

Whilst this post is not an extensive example of Madam C J Walker’s achievements or life, I do hope that it has helped to raise her profile, particularly here in the UK. I hope that it serves as a reflection of what she was able to do, despite the barriers and prejudice that were in front of her. Both Madam Walker and her selling agents did a job that was ahead of their time. I utterly commend them and give them a standing ovation for what they managed to create. They deserved every success they had.

If you would like to find out more about Madam C. J. Walker, I would suggest that you read her biography, On Her Own Grounds, written by great-great granddaughter, A’Lelia Perry Bundles, who is also the current owner of the Madam C. J. Walker Company. It’s a very insightful book that often shows Sarah’s motivations and how she is remembered by her family.


[1] Michals, D., ‘Madam C. J. Walker’, National Women’s History Museum, https://www.womenshistory.org/education-resources/biographies/madam-cj-walker ; History, ‘Madam C. J. Walker’, https://www.history.com/topics/black-history/madame-c-j-walker

[2] History, ‘Madam C. J. Walker’, https://www.history.com/topics/black-history/madame-c-j-walker

[3] Baldwin, D. L., ‘From the Washtub to the World: Madam C. J Walker and the “Re-Creation” of Race Womanhood, 1900-1935’, in Weinbaum, A. E., Thomas, L. M., Ramamurthy, P., Poiger, U. G., Dong, M. Y. and Barlow, T. E. (eds), The Modern Girl Around the World: Consumption, Modernity, and Globalisation (Duke University Press: Durham, North Carolina, 2008), p. 56; History, ‘Madam C. J. Walker’, https://www.history.com/topics/black-history/madame-c-j-walker

[4] History, ‘Madam C. J. Walker’, https://www.history.com/topics/black-history/madame-c-j-walker

[5] History, ‘Madam C. J. Walker’, https://www.history.com/topics/black-history/madame-c-j-walker

[6] Michals, D., ‘Madam C. J. Walker’, National Women’s History Museum, https://www.womenshistory.org/education-resources/biographies/madam-cj-walker

[7] Baldwin, D. L., ‘From the Washtub to the World’, p. 56.

[8] Baldwin, D. L., ‘From the Washtub to the World’, p. 57.

[9] Baldwin, D. L., ‘From the Washtub to the World’, p. 57.

[10] Bundles, A., On Her Own Ground: The Life and Times of Madam C. J. Walker (Scribner: New York, 2001), p. 15.

[11] Michals, D., ‘Madam C. J. Walker’, National Women’s History Museum, https://www.womenshistory.org/education-resources/biographies/madam-cj-walker

[12] Michals, D., ‘Madam C. J. Walker’, National Women’s History Museum, https://www.womenshistory.org/education-resources/biographies/madam-cj-walker

A ‘Love of Wandering’[i]: The Webb Family Abroad- Guest Post by Harriet Bird


Harriet Bird graduated with an undergraduate degree in History from Nottingham Trent University in 2019 and is currently studying for her master’s in Museum and Heritage Development. After beginning a volunteer position at Newstead Abbey in 2018 she became interested in the history of the Webb family and has begun researching this alongside her studies.  

Scotland, France, Italy, Switzerland, Madeira, Egypt, South Africa, Jerusalem, India, Japan, Australia, New Zealand. The Victorian owners of Newstead Abbey travelled extensively.  

From an early age, William Frederick Webb (1829-1899) was used to travelling to different countries. Although born in England, he was largely raised in France and was known as “the French boy” when he began his education at Eton College.[i] After leaving Eton he became a captain of the 17th Lancers and spent time in Ireland, however, “the monotony of regimental life” did not suit Webb and he resigned his commission and turned his attentions to Africa.[ii] At the age of 22, he landed in South Africa to begin a two-year expedition of the country.[iii] After reluctantly leaving Africa early in 1853, he visited India after hearing so much about the country but found “after the free life of the African wilderness the India of those days failed to attract him” and he returned to England by the end of the year.[iv]

Figure 1: A photograph of five of the Webb children stood in front of Eagle Pond in the gardens of Newstead Abbey. Photograph from Webb Family Photo Album.

In July 1857, Webb married Emilia Jane Goodlake (1835-1889), the daughter of Thomas Mills Goodlake of Wadley at Farringdon in Berkshire (1808-1877).[v] The couple moved to Pepper Hall in Yorkshire where their first three children, Augusta Zelia (1858), Geraldine Katherine (1860), and Wilfred (1861), were born. Shortly after Wilfred was born in spring 1861 the family moved to Newstead Abbey in Nottinghamshire, where four more children followed, Ethel Mary (1862), Mabel Cecilia (1863), Algernon Frederick (1865) and Roderick Beauclerk (1867).

The Webb children’s childhoods were filled with tales of their father’s excursions abroad, in particular, his expedition to Africa, so much so that Augusta later claimed, “Africa played such a familiar part in our childhood’s days as to be almost as real to us as our home surroundings”.[vi] From surviving letters and family photograph albums, we find that William and Emilia continued to travel and often took the children with them. Not only did the family spend their summers in Scotland at Arrochar, but they also travelled abroad to places such as Switzerland, Italy and Egypt.[vii] Emilia managed to fulfil her “great desire” and visited Jerusalem, as Augusta related, “it was a very real and true pilgrimage”, and she was “very proud of her pilgrim’s ring”.[viii]  It is perhaps not surprising that their children continued to travel and may have acquired the same “love of wandering” Augusta describes her father as having.[ix]

Figure 2 : Photograph taken by a member of the Webb family identified as Jerusalem. Photograph from the Webb Family Photo Album.

Three years after her marriage to Philip Affleck Fraser in July 1889, Augusta found herself settling in Jamaica during her husband’s work with the railway.[x] Already an experienced and talented author having published articles and short stories in the periodicals in England, Augusta began her first full-length novel. Inspired by her new surroundings and the stories told to her by the local population, A Study in Colour was published in 1894. A second novel, Lucilla (1895), and a collection of short stories, A Reluctant Evangelist (1896), followed, all published under the pseudonym, Alice Spinner. Augusta’s fourth work, Livingstone and Newstead, was published in 1913 under her married name.

In the 1890s Geraldine and Ethel got the opportunity to accompany their father on a trip to Japan. On their return, inspired by their visit, rooms began to be filled with purchases and souvenirs, the Henry VII bedroom being redecorated to create a Japanese Room. Ethel also took this inspiration out into the gardens and set about designing a Japanese Garden, her sketches and research having survived to be shown to visitors at the Abbey today.

Death also haunted trips abroad. In 1889, Emilia became “hopelessly ill” and the “South African climate had been recommended to her”.[xi] Accompanied only by her husband, she travelled to South Africa where the weather did “allay much of her suffering” but in December she passed away just two months after arriving.[xii]  Two years later, a visit to Madeira was extended for some time on account of Mabel’s “delicate health” and her “suffering from the effects of a severe fall”.[xiii] When she eventually returned to England in July it was decided for her to undergo an operation, however, shortly after chloroform had been administered Mabel “sank rapidly” and died from a complication with her heart.[xiv] In 1898, Webb, like his wife, had travelled abroad for declining health.[xv] Suffering from acute laryngitis, Webb spent his last months in Egypt, passing away in February 1899 potentially from heart failure.[xvi]

Figure 3: Photograph of a sphinx taken in Egypt. Photograph from the Webb Family Photo Album.

In December the same year, Geraldine married Sir Herbert Charles Chermside (1850-1929) in a quickly arranged and quiet ceremony on account of Chermside’s departure for South Africa on active service on 4 January 1900, both Geraldine and Ethel later joined him.[xvii] Following his appointment as the 9th Governor of Queensland, a post he held between 1902 and 1904, the couple relocated to Australia.[xviii]  Whilst there, Geraldine visited New Zealand in October 1903, her husband joined her for Christmas before they both returned to Australia at the end of January 1904.[xix] Like her parents, when her health was failing she travelled abroad to Switzerland for improvement but died in June 1910.[xx]

The youngest Webb sibling, Roderick, also found himself in Australia. Likely leaving England after being examined by a bankruptcy court in 1896 for debts of over £11,000, Roderick is reportedly to have taken up mining, farming and “dairying” in Australia.[xxi] Like his father, Roderick had begun a military career after leaving school, a career he retained in Australia after taking the position of aide-de-camp to his brother-in-law, Chermside.[xxii] During the war, he was ordered to East Africa where he died from heart failure in 1916.[xxiii]

With Newstead Abbey as their base, the Webb’s travelled extensively for exploration, enjoyment, employment and easing of illness. Their combined “love of wandering” led them to places as far away as Australia and Japan and their travels often coincided with important landmarks in their lives making it almost impossible to tell their story without reference to them.   

Photographs from the Webb Family Photo Album used with kind permission from Simon Brown, Curator of Newstead Abbey.


[i] Fraser, A.Z. 1913. Livingstone and Newstead, London: John Murray, p.3.

[ii] Ibid, pp.1-2.

[iii] Ibid, pp. 2-6. See Chapters 2-6 for an account of his time in Africa and meeting with Dr Livingstone.

[iv] Ibid.

[v] Ibid, pp. 41-42.

[vi] ‘Marriage in the High Life’, Morning Post, Thursday, 16 July 1857, p.5. ; Fraser, Livingstone, pp. 64-65.

[vii] Fraser, Livingstone, p.33.

[viii] A copy of the Webb family photograph album is available for visitors to look through at Newstead Abbey and some of the letters are also on display.

[ix] Fraser, Livingstone, p.170.

[x] Ibid, p.3.

[xi] Bryan, P. (2000), The Jamaican People, 1880-1902: Race, Class, and Social Control, University of West Indies Press, p.40, 199.  

[xii] Fraser, Livingstone, pp. 248-251.

[xiii] Ibid.

[xiv] ‘Sad Death of the Daughter of Mr Webb, of Newstead Abbey’, Mansfield Reporter, Friday, 3 July 1891, p.8.

[xv] Ibid.

[xvi] ‘Mr W. F. Webb’, Nottingham Evening Post, Saturday, 25 Feb 1899, p.4.

[xvii] Ibid. ; ‘Stray Pellets’, Sporting Gazette: The County Gentleman, Saturday, 18 March 1899, p.345.

[xviii] ‘Major-General Sir H. Chermside and Miss Geraldine Webb’, Nottingham Journal, Thursday, 28 Dec 1899, p.6. ; ‘Major-Gen. Sir H. Chermside, G.C.M.G., C.B., to Miss G. K. Webb’, Gentlewoman, Saturday, 13 Jan 1900, p.56.

[xix] ‘Queensland’s New Governor’, Pall Mall Gazette, Wednesday, 1 Jan 1902, p.8. ; ‘Army Personal’, Army and Navy Gazette, Saturday, 11 Jan 1902, p.28. ; ‘Sir H. Chermside Resigns’, The Telegraph (Brisbane, Qld: 1872-1947), Friday, 30 Sep 1904, p.4.

[xx] ‘Lady Chermside’s Departure’, The Queensland Times, Ipswich Herald and General Advertiser (Qld: 1861-1908), Tuesday, 6 Oct 1903, p.12. ; ‘Governor Gone’, The Telegraph (Brisbane, Qld: 1872-1947), Wednesday, 16 Dec 1903, p.7.

[xxi] ‘Death of Lady Chermside’, Nottingham Evening Post, Thursday, 23 June 1910, p.6.

[xxii] ‘The Affairs of Roderick B. Webb, of Cowton, Yorks, and Newstead Abbey, Notts’, The Freemans Journal, Thursday, 12 Nov, 1896, p.7. ‘Obituary: Major R. B. Webb’, Warwick Examiner and Times (Qld: 1867-1919), Wednesday, 9 Aug 1916, p.1.  

[xxiii] ‘Obituary’, Warwick Examiner, 1916, p.1.

[xxiv] Ibid.

Robbery of Edward I’s Treasures from Westminster Abbey

Westminster Abbey has had a long history of royal ceremony and patronage, ever since its rebuilding between 1042 and 1052 by Edward the Confessor. The Westminster Abbey that we know of today was again rebuilt by Henry III in the 13th Century, and it was this rebuilding that has made it a place of safety for the crown jewels. A vaulted chamber known as the Pyx Chamber was used to house the royal treasures, including the crown jewels, alongside others belonging to the monks who called the abbey home. This chamber was considered the best place to house the treasury as it was a medieval equivalent of a high security bank vault.[1] With the monks in protection of these precious items, along with many keys to the strong vault doors, it’s easy to see why this site was chosen.

Chamber of the Pyx, Westminster Abbey, London (2012), Wikimedia Commons

However, in 1303, the unthinkable happened; the treasury was robbed and in a most miraculous and somewhat laughable way. The man responsible was Richard Podlicote or Pudlicote, he was a merchant who had previously been working in Flanders before returning to England. He clearly had motive as he had previously been arrested and forced to pay £14 (nearly £10,000 in today’s money) towards King Edward I’s debts in Bruges.[2] Whilst this may sound harsh to us, it was a common right of medieval kings to force Englishmen living abroad to help pay debts.

In his confession, Pudlicote revealed how he had managed to do the robbery. It took him 98 days (roughly 3 months), between Christmas and just after Easter, to dig a tunnel under the abbey grounds.[3] He said he knew where he was going because he had done a smaller scale robbery before, taking silver dishes and drinking vessels.[4] After getting through to the chamber, he spent a whole day deciding what he wanted to take. The items were more than he could carry and so, on his way out under the cover of darkness, he left some of it under a nearby bush, which he came back for the following night.[5]

With the passage of time, we’re not entirely sure just how many things Pudlicote stole, but we do know some of the higher status items he did and did not steal. The crown jewels themselves were left alone, probably because they were too high profile.[6] One item which was possibly stolen as it was missing and has never been found is a crown taken from the dead body of the Welsh Prince, Llywelyn ap Gruffydd after his death at the Battle of Builth in 1982.[7] It was claimed after the crown had passed into English hands that this crown had once belonged to King Arthur, who the Welsh royals claimed as their ancestor.[8]

Contemporary image of Llywelyn ap Gruffydd wearing his crown during a ceremony of him paying tribute to Henry III (1267), Wikimedia Commons

Amazingly, the crime wasn’t discovered until early June as on the 6th, Edward I ordered an investigation into the robbery.[9] Perhaps it wouldn’t have been discovered for a lot longer if it hadn’t had been for the pawnshops and brothels the treasures ended up in. The pawnshops in their desperation to be rid of the stolen goods, offered them to nobles and others of high standing. These men were among those who knew the truth what these goods were and where they had come from.[10] The reality of what had happened in Westminster Abbey began to unravel and it led to Pudlicot, who was found with between £2,000-£2,200 (around £1.5 million pounds in today’s money) worth of stolen goods on him.

Despite being a previous offender, and how long it took him to dig, as well as being in or around the scene of the crime, Pudlicote claimed the monks were not involved and didn’t know of his endeavours.[11] I’m not sure that really adds up, especially as 48 monks were arrested and imprisoned in the Tower of London for a brief stay, but they were never formally punished after they were released on Edward I’s orders.[12] It seems to be a large coincidence, so there must have been some form of insider help. Whatever the truth, Pudlicote was sentenced to death in November 1303.

Painting in Westminster Abbey thought to be Edward I (2019), Wikimedia Commons

The theft changed how the crown jewels were kept, something which can be seen right up until the present day. The remaining treasure was briefly placed in the Tower of London whilst the Pyx Chamber was reinforced.[13] In the later 1300s, a new and more permanent home was built in the Tower of London specifically built to house the jewels, although this is not the building currently used for that purpose, as that has long been lost.

The debts of Edward I which were a major motive for the crime were long reaching. On his death in 1307, they amounted to £200,000, nearly £142 million in today’s money. It is certainly a phenomenal amount which is virtually unthinkable. Considering this, it’s no doubt that the vast amount of these debts were still unpaid by the time of Edward II, son of Edward I, 20 years after.


[1] Ross, D., ‘Westminster Abbey Chapter House and Pyx Chamber’, Britain Express, https://www.britainexpress.com/attractions.htm?attraction=4723; ‘Pyx Chamber’, Westminster Abbey,  https://www.westminster-abbey.org/about-the-abbey/history/pyx-chamber

[2] Rouse, R. and Rushton, C., The Medieval Quest for Arthur (Stroud: The History Press, 2016), p. 101.

[3] Rouse, R. and Rushton, C., The Medieval Quest for Arthur, p. 101.

[4] Ashbee, J., ‘Robbery of the King’s Treasure at Westminster Abbey’, English Heritage, https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/chapter-house-and-pyx-chamber/history-treasure-at-westminster/

[5] Ashbee, J., ‘Robbery of the King’s Treasure at Westminster Abbey’, English Heritage, https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/chapter-house-and-pyx-chamber/history-treasure-at-westminster/

[6] Rouse, R. and Rushton, C., The Medieval Quest for Arthur, p. 101.

[7] Rouse, R. and Rushton, C., The Medieval Quest for Arthur, pp. 91-92.

[8] Rouse, R. and Rushton, C., The Medieval Quest for Arthur, pp. 91-92.

[9] Ashbee, J., ‘Robbery of the King’s Treasure at Westminster Abbey’, English Heritage, https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/chapter-house-and-pyx-chamber/history-treasure-at-westminster/

[10] Rouse, R. and Rushton, C., The Medieval Quest for Arthur, p. 101.

[11] Ashbee, J., ‘Robbery of the King’s Treasure at Westminster Abbey’, English Heritage, https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/chapter-house-and-pyx-chamber/history-treasure-at-westminster/

[12] Rouse, R. and Rushton, C., The Medieval Quest for Arthur, p. 101; Keegan, V., ‘Vic Keegan’s Lost London 139: The great royal jewels heist of 1303’, On London, 13 April 2020, https://www.onlondon.co.uk/vic-keegans-lost-london-139-the-great-royal-jewel-heist-of-1303/

[13] Keegan, V., ‘Vic Keegan’s Lost London 139: The great royal jewels heist of 1303’, On London, 13 April 2020, https://www.onlondon.co.uk/vic-keegans-lost-london-139-the-great-royal-jewel-heist-of-1303/

Audley End- Aristocrats, Avenues and Espionage: a Guest Post by Laura Adkins

This guest post has kindly been written by Laura Adkins, the creator of the For The Love of History Blog, which I have been able to do a few guests posts for myself. She has worked at many historical sites and mainly posts about ones found in Essex, her home county. Do check her blog out if you can, I promise you it’s a very enjoyable read.

One of the grandest houses in England, Audley End stands proudly in the countryside of Saffron Walden. Its origins date back to the 10th Century, where it began life as Walden Abbey, given to Thomas, Lord Audley, by Henry VIII, who converted the monastery into a house. 

The rooms are high and hung with beautiful tapestries: the beds amply decorated with golden velvet and silk bed hangings and covers.’

From the account of the visit of Johann Ernst, Duke of Saxe-Weimar, to Audley End, September 1613

In this post, I will be exploring three parts of Audley’s history, those who lived there – the Howards, its beautiful gardens designed by the one and only Capability Brown and its role in WW2 and the polish resistance.

Aristocrats:

The creator of the current structure of Audley End was Thomas Howard, part of the infamous Howard family. He inherited the House in 1605 and set about transforming the site into a country estate fit enough for royalty as he wanted to show off his wealth. Unfortunately, not much survives of his transformations and what we know from his estate comes from archives and documentary evidence. We know work began in 1605 and completed around 1614. Along with his uncle Henry Howard and Bernard Janssen, a Flemish mason, the three set about creating one of the greatest houses in Jacobean England.[1] Audley End had all the parts one expects in a Jacobean Mansion including symmetrical inner court, lodgings for his guests, including one for both the King and a separate one for the Queen for when they would stay. Today the house is only half the size of what it once was.

Thomas Howard, 1st Earl of Suffolk by Unknown Artist, National Portrait Gallery

The Howard family’s rise to power began in 1483, when King Richard III created John Howard the Duke of Norfolk. This was the third time that the Title of Duke of Norfolk had been used, and John had blood links to the first ever Duke of Norfolk – Thomas Mowbray (made 1st Duke of Norfolk in 1397). The head of the Howards would not only hold the title of Duke of Norfolk, but that of Earl of Arundel, Earl of Surrey, and Earl of Norfolk in addition to holding six baronies. They were a powerful family, who in the reign of the Tudors were ones to watch out for. Thomas Howard, son of John would be successful in defeating the Scots at the Battle of Flodden with two of his nieces – Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard being married to King Henry VIII. Charles Howard, 1st Earl of Nottingham, would hold the title of Lord Admiral and lead the English against the invasion of the Spanish Armada in 1588. For more on this infamous family, I suggest reading House of Treason by Robert Hutchinson.

In 1751, after the 10th Earl’s death, Elizabeth, Countess of Portsmouth brought Audley End which in turn would be inherited by her nephew, Sir John Griffin Whitwell, on the agreement that he took the surname of Griffin. John was a retired soldier and MP for Andover. He had fought and was wounded at the Battle of Kloster Kampen in 1760 during the Seven Years War.

Sir John, who became Lord Howard, would make more transformations to Audley End, most of which is what we can see today. He hired the architect Robert Adam to transform the house and Capability Brown the landscape. Adam’s work can be seen in the ground floor reception rooms on the south front today. Over time, Sir John started to pick up the architectural bug and his second wife, Katherine the decor. They both, respectively, became amateur architect and decorator and thus set about making many of their own changes to the house. The central range was rebuilt to reconnect the two wings of the house, along with a unique service gallery and detached service wing, all under the eye of Sir John.

Audley End would be one of the first houses to have a flushing water closet (installed in 1775) along with a bell system for the family of the house to call their domestic staff. Today, much of what can be seen at Audley End is a result of Richard Neville, who in the 1820s remodelled the house taking it back to its Jacobean roots.

Audley End, Wikimedia Commons

Avenues:

The beginnings of formal gardens at Audley End were started during the conversion of the monastery into house. It would be Elizabeth, Countess of Portsmouth, who would begin the transformation of the gardens into a more formal landscape. However, the landscape that we see today was mostly the result of one Capability Brown.

I mentioned above that in 1763, Griffin hired John Adam to assist with the interior development, he had Capability Brown do the same with the estate. Brown’s brief was to widen the river running through the estate, building a ha-ha and transforming the overall look of the gardens into Brown’s ‘naturalistic style’. He would create new roads towards the house, including one with a bridge, which was designed by Adam’s and is a Grade I listed structure. Brown was to be paid £660 (around £1,150,000 today) for his work in three payments, the last being on completion.

The two would eventually fall out with the result being Griffin dismissing Brown and getting the unknown Joseph Hicks to finish the work. However, the elements of Brown’s work are there for all to see and appreciate, including sweeps of grass, water flowing towards the house, long curving drives with stunning views for visitors and wooded areas to hide service buildings.

Espionage:

When I visited Audley End many years ago, I did not really pay much attention to a monument within the estate, remembering fallen soldiers from WW2. It was not until planning this post that Danielle mentioned the Polish secret missions that made me go back and re look at Audley End’s history in the 20th Century.

In 1941, like a number of other country estates, Audley End was requisitioned by the Army to be used as a training facility. By 1943, those who trained there was exclusively Polish Soldiers. They were undergoing training to assist them when they were secretly returned to German occupied Poland and assist the Polish resistance.

WWII Reenactment at Audley End

Code named station 43 (overseen by the Special Operations Executive), the Polish agents, under the command of Captain Alfons Mackowiak (Alan Mack). They would undergo various training in guerrilla warfare which included close combat, assignation, forgery, planting booby traps and of course learning how to parachute out of a plane. In total 527 soldiers passed the training and were sent into Poland. Sadly, 108 of these were either killed in action or at concentration camps and are remembered on the memorial I mentioned above. The soldiers would be known as the Cichociemni (the silent and Unseen). They would be involved in many missions, including recovering a German V2 rocket and smuggling into England.

‘Between 1942 and 1944 Polish members of the Special Operations Executive trained in this house for missions in their homeland. This memorial commemorates those who parachuted into enemy occupied Poland and gave their lives for the freedom of this and their own country.’ Listed Grade II © Historic England Archive PLB/K030323

In 1948, the house was handed over to the nation. Today it is managed by English Heritage, and accessible to the public, for more information on visiting times, exhibitions and events head to https://www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/audley-end-house-and-gardens/

[1] Drury, P (…) English Heritage Guidebooks – Audley End

Sources:

Borger, J (2016) Honouring ‘silent and unseen’ fighters who led Polish resistance. Available from: https://www.theguardian.com/world/2016/jun/10/honouring-poland-silent-unseen-fighters-resistance-nazi-british [Accessed 04.08/20]

English Heritage (2020) Audley End House and Gardens. Available from:  www.english-heritage.org.uk/visit/places/audley-end-house-and-gardens/ [Accessed 25/07/20]

Historic England (2020) Audley End. Available from: historicengland.org.uk/listing/the-list/list-entry/1000312 [Accessed 25/07/20]

Historic England (2019) The Secret War: Resistance in Britain During the Second World War. Avalbne from: https://heritagecalling.com/2019/11/05/the-secret-war-resistance-in-britain-during-the-second-world-war/ [Accessed 05/08/20] Landscape Institute(2016) About Capability Brown. Available from:  http://www.capabilitybrown.org/  [Accessed 4/8/20]

Brushy Bill Roberts: Billy the Kid or Imposter?

After catching the last part of the film Young Guns recently, I suddenly realised I didn’t know the end of Billy the Kid’s life. Being English, I assumed that this was because we have our own outlaws, rather than the cowboys of the American West. However, after being to do a little research, some parallels with English outlaws emerged. Most notably that fictionalisation of his life has been a large part of Billy’s life. This was easy to do as there are little established facts and most of the knowledge known about his life has been taken from rumours and speculation found in newspapers and fictionalised accounts at the time.[1] Yet one thing stood out to me as utterly fascinating: in 1950, a man known as Brushy Bill Roberts applied for a pardon for Billy the Kid. Who was this Brushy Bill Roberts, and why was he asking for a pardon for Billy the Kid, real name Henry McCarty, nearly 70 years after the death of the outlaw?

Photograph of Brushy Bill Roberts

Brushy Bill Roberts, real name William Henry Roberts, first came to the attention of a paralegal, William V. Morrison, in 1948 whilst he was helping to settle an estate.[2] He had heard rumours that Roberts knew the true fate of Billy the Kid and wanted to investigate more. Little did he know exactly what he’d find. After some interviews, Roberts admitted he was Billy the Kid and that he was sick of hiding his identity. Morrison was initially unsure as to the truth of the claims, but quickly began to believe them as some of the activities of Billy the Kid and the Lincoln County War in which he was involved, were too in depth not to be true.[3] Despite these findings, when the story was released to the press, experts on the American outlaw were utterly unconvinced and instead they continued to believe that it was Billy the Kid who had been shot by Pat Garrett in the early hours of 14 July 1881.[4]

Billy the Kid, Wikimedia Commons

There are many loopholes in the story of Billy the Kid’s death, and therefore left an opportunity not just for Roberts, but a man name John Miller, who died in 1937, were able to claim to be the outlaw who died young. Garrett had shot a man who had been speaking Spanish in a darkened room of the ranch house of Pete Maxwell, a friend of Billy the Kid. The two deputies who were waiting outside the house, John W. Poe and Thomas McKinney, hadn’t met the outlaw before, so they didn’t know what he looked like. After the incident, Poe is noted to not believe the man who had been shot dead was Billy, insisting that it was the wrong man.[5] This, alongside rumours spread by locals to the ranch, meant some had begun to believe that it was someone else who had been killed that day.

Photograph of Pat Garrett as a Sherriff in the Lincoln County Police, Wikimedia Commons

On the day after the shooting, a Coroner’s inquest ruled that the body was that of Billy the Kid and that Garrett had shot him as a justifiable homicide.[6] The body was buried that same day and was fully intact, despite later claims by various people to have kept body parts as relics.[7] It was purposefully buried alongside Billy’s mother and the graves have since been washed away in flooding, so no one knows if the remains are still there. A more recent stone marker has been placed in the graveyard but it’s uncertain whether it lies anywhere near the original grave location.[8] This has meant that any calls for DNA evidence to be analysed has been impossible.

I have purposefully not gone into the full ins and outs of the case for Brushy Bill Roberts either being or not being Billy the Kid, in the hopes that you will investigate it and make up your own mind. I would suggest that as it’s a fascinating topic. However, for me, there is one strange coincidence in the timing of Roberts coming forward as Billy the Kid. Roberts and his wife decided to retire to Texas after moving around between many different southern states because of the low cost of living there. Roberts was on a small state pension and this had to be supplemented by his elderly wife taking on laundry to bring in a relatively small income.[9] He also died of a heart attack in December 1950 after his attempt of a pardon was unsuccessful.

Photograph of Brushy Bill’s Grave, Wikimedia Commons

There is no way to definitively prove or disprove Roberts claims of being the infamous outlaw, but there is no denying that the case has helped perpetuate the outlaw in American history. This started within a year of the Kid’s supposed death after Pat Garrett published a biography on his victim. However, the book was more like a traditional dime novel, which often featured cowboy figures. It was based on entertaining fiction rather than hard facts.[10] Hico in Texas, where Roberts retired to openly admits his claims were true and has a Billy the Kid Museum to explain this. Whatever your own believes on the matter, it’s true that the outlaw does have continuing appeal and fascination. In terms of Brushy Bill, as has been said, if he wasn’t Billy the Kid, then who was he and how did he know so much about the outlaw and the Lincoln County War?[11] It is possible that even if he wasn’t Billy, Roberts would have known him well and had himself participated in the Lincoln County War.[12]


[1] Kiger, P. J., ‘How Did Billy the Kid Die?’, History, 14 May 2020, https://www.history.com/news/billy-the-kid-death-theories

[2] Jameson, W. C., Billy the Kid: Beyond the Grave (Lanham, Maryland: Taylor Trade Publishers, 2005), pp. 1-2.

[3] Jameson, W. C., Billy the Kid: Beyond the Grave, pp. 5 and 20.

[4] Prassel, F. R., The Great American Outlaw: A Legacy of Fact and Fiction (Norman, Oklahoma: University of Oklahoma Press, 1996), p. 152.

[5] Jameson, W. C., Billy the Kid: Beyond the Grave, p. XII.

[6] Kiger, P. J., ‘How Did Billy the Kid Die?’, History, 14 May 2020, https://www.history.com/news/billy-the-kid-death-theories

[7] Kiger, P. J., ‘How Did Billy the Kid Die?’, History, 14 May 2020, https://www.history.com/news/billy-the-kid-death-theories

[8] Prassel, F. R., The Great American Outlaw, p. 152.

[9] Jameson, W. C., Billy the Kid: Beyond the Grave, pp. 15-16.

[10] Jameson, W. C., Billy the Kid: Beyond the Grave, p. 7.

[11] ‘Patrolling the Bandit Belt’, T. F. Dawson Scrapbooks cited in Prassel, F. R., The Great American Outlaw, p. 152.

[12] Jameson, W. C., Billy the Kid: Beyond the Grave, p. 20.