With many thanks to Bill Openshaw for submitting this guest blog where he explores the frustrations and rewards of archival research. Letters held at Northumberland Archives allowed Bill to dig deeper into the personality and motivations of the 2nd Duke of Northumberland.

Delving into archives is very much like archaeology, you think you know what you are looking for but sometimes you can experience serendipity. A discovery made by accident that blows what you thought was true out of the water. This can occur in any avenue of investigation, whether family history or academic research.

I have been looking into the subject of the Percy Tenantry Volunteers, one of seventeen volunteer corps that were raised in Northumberland during the Napoleonic Wars. Embodied by the Duke of Northumberland, the Percy volunteers were the third largest corps in Britain and were composed solely of his own tenants. They were formed in 1798, at the height of a fear of invasion from the French, who were massing troops on the coast of the English Channel. The Duke at the time was the Lord Lieutenant of Northumberland, but in April of that year, just before the Percy Volunteers were formed, he resigned from the position. I had taken for granted that he had done this because the Lord Lieutenant was responsible for the volunteer forces in his county and that there was a conflict of interest if Percy himself was a commander of one of these corps. I was wrong.

After studying the Percy Tenantry at Alnwick Castle, I decided to seek information further afield and found it hidden amongst papers in the Northumberland Archives. While looking for other things (reading through the papers of Sir John E Swinburne of Capheaton) I chanced upon the truth of the episode.

 In April 1798, while the Duke was in Cornwall, recovering from ill health, there was a meeting in Alnwick of the Deputy Lieutenants and local magistrates. With the fear of imminent invasion, the meeting printed their resolutions in the local newspapers. They decided that ‘…unless frequent and speedy communications be had between the Lieutenant of the County & the General commanding the district’… [1] the Government of the county would be greatly impeded. They continued ‘…if His Grace finds it inconvenient to come into the county…’ [1]  it would be of great advantage if three deputies could be given power to act in his absence. 

Four days later, the Duke resigned as Lord Lieutenant citing: 

‘…it is as much my inclination, as it is my duty and my intent to contribute to the utmost of my power towards the defence of this country against invasion of any foreign enemy, I am unwilling to hold for one moment any situation, my continuance in which, instead of aiding, is supposed to impede the necessary measures of Government for that purpose.’[2]  

He concluded by expressing his patriotic zeal and service ‘… in two wars & in different Quarters of the globe.’[2]  Was this the Duke being cantankerous or arrogant with these underlings who questioned his duty and ability to do the job?  

Despite several of the deputies expressing regret over the resolutions and even the officers of the Northumberland Militia [4] and Secretary of State for War himself,[5] asking the Duke to reconsider, he stuck to his guns. At the end of May, he expanded on his reasons for his resignation saying: 

‘ The character of a soldier, Sir, is a subject of as delicate a nature as the virtue of a Lady, and my military Education has taught me neither to give, nor tamely submit to an insult.’  

Here lies the crux of the matter, he did indeed feel insulted and in an age of ‘Sense and Sensibility’ his virtue had been called into question. Being very sensitive to this slight as a gentleman, he had no option but to resign.

It was not until almost a year later that he was able to change his position and two years later he was again appointed Lord Lieutenant for Northumberland. It also transpires that he was not the only Lord Lieutenant to be away from his county, but the others were not asked to return.

References

1. 25^th April 1798 – Extract of the proceedings of the general meeting of Lieutenancy held at Alnwick 25^th April 1798. Papers of Sir J.E. Swinburne. ZSW 593.  Northumberland Archives

2. 1^st May 1798, Duke of Northumberland. to Duke of Portland [Home Secretary]  Papers of Sir J.E. Swinburne. ZSW 593. Northumberland Archives

3. 24^th May 1798 D of Nth’d to Sir John Swinburne. Papers of Sir J.E. Swinburne. ZSW 593.  Northumberland Archives

4. 20^th May 1798 Sir J.E. Swinburne to D of Nth’d.    Papers of Sir J.E. Swinburne. ZSW 593.  Northumberland Archives

5. May 26^th 1798,   D of Nth’d to Henry Dundas        Papers of Sir J.E. Swinburne. ZSW 593. Northumberland Archives

Cures and conspiracy

As all our pubs closed people are currently buying more alcohol for home consumption (come on we have all had a glass of two most nights since lockdown? Haven’t we?) It must have been similar in 1918. Dr Kerr wrote to the Newcastle Journal on 14 November 1918, stating that people shouldn’t share their handkerchiefs. (Do people do that?) But then stated that alcohol was not a protection against an attack of influenza, but very much the reverse.

This did amuse me though as a number of the newspapers I looked at did run advertisements for a product that could save you and one that I wouldn’t imagine! The adverts stated that two or three cups of OXO will help you from getting the flu. As it will increase nutrition and maintain vitality in your system and is an effective resistance to the flu. 

What followed this advert was something that we have all suffered these last few weeks ‘Toilet Roll Gate’ Yes, the panic buying of toilet products and flour and pasta which caused a serious shortage. Back in 1918 the shortage was of beef flavoured drinks such as OXO and Bovril. Things became so bad that in December 1918 Bovril ran two adverts in the newspapers to stop the panic buying. They tried to put the onus of deaths on panic buyers and the military for not releasing soldiers from active service quickly enough. What does strike you when you read their adverts is the number of times they mention their product. A Marketing Executives dream!

Unselfishness

There is a simple way of helping others during the present influenza epidemic. 

It is to refrain from buying Bovril if you have a stock in the house which will carry you on even for a month.

In this way you will leave available Bovril in the shops for those who have the illness at home.

Bovril Ltd. recognising that those who are deprived of the body building power of Bovril may easily fall victims to the epidemic. We are doing our utmost to increase supplies. 

But the lack of bottles seriously hampers their efforts and it is hoped that men will soon be released for the bottle factories so that there may be once again Bovril for all.

AND

On Behalf of Invalids

It is deeply to be regretted that the influenza epidemic coincides with a shortage of Bovril.

On behalf of the invalids, Bovril Ltd. wish to thank all those who refrain from buying Bovril during this period. The unselfish action of those consumers allows the available supplies to go to those who stand in great need of Bovril.

More bottles of Bovril will be available early in the New Year. 

Another product doing the rounds to help people after the flu was called Ker-Nak. They advertised this as follows:-

After Flu comes that nervous disability, that loss of appetite, loss of sleep and energy. To really get well and strong this spring make up your mind now and try KER-NAK. The new wonderful twin medicine – the tonic and laxative in one. So tone up and repair with KER-NAK.

Whilst searching the newspapers for these blogs I also came across the usual conspiracy theories. 

A member of the Local Food Vigilance Committee was reported in the newspapers of 25 November 1918: “… the influenza was caused by bad bacon and added a local doctor had treated 400 patients for swine flu and not influenza.”

Whereas Alan Wilson MD from Argyllshire had a letter published in the Newcastle Journal 7 November 1918: “The current outbreak of influenza may have been caused by enormous amount of nitrogen gas set free by 1000’s of tonnes of explosives used in the war.” He claimed that as it is a chief component in explosives, nitrogen could cause irritation of the mucous membranes of air passages and also of the nervous system. He signs with his name and that he is in his 80^th year and convalescing from an attack of flu. 

I could go on but hope you have enjoyed this glimpse back to 1918 and can see the similarities to 2020 and the strange situation we are all finding ourselves in.

Lost chambers beneath a castle, treasures protected by magical guardians and a choice which reveals the hero’s purity of character. The story of Sir Guy the Seeker’s supernatural experiences at
Dunstanburgh Castle occupies similar thematic territory to the tale of Walter and the wizard in the
caves beneath Tynemouth Castle and variations exist from all around the United Kingdom. The
Dunstanburgh story, however, has a very different ending suggesting a moral and literary influence.
Sir Guy the Seeker was first published in verse as part of Matthew Lewis’ Romantic Tales (1808).
Lewis was famous for his pioneering gothic horror novel The Monk and so was no stranger to
complex themes.

The castle at Dunstanburgh makes impressive use of its topography, clinging to a dramatic cliff edge
along two sides and once protected by a system of lakes around the inland curtain walls. The
remains of the original gatehouse are especially imposing given the structure’s age, comparative
short occupation and abandonment since at least the 1520s.

In the story Sir Guy is travelling in the area when he finds himself caught in a storm and urgently
seeks shelter, riding towards the only visible structure, the castle ruins. Every entrance was blocked
so Guy shelters in an entranceway by a single yew tree and waits for the storm to end.
At midnight lightning strikes and the door behind him opens revealing a mysterious vault and
ancient wizard who leads Guy inside, promising reward for the right, true-hearted hero or ruin for
any who fails. The pair walk the twisting passages and staircases beneath the castle encountering
unearthly sounds and visions until they finally reach an opulent vault containing a crystal tomb at its
centre and sleeping warriors all around. Inside the tomb was a beautiful enchanted lady, suspended
in sleep. To either side were the giant skeletons of ancient kings, one holding a sword and the other
a shield. Both would be required to awaken the lady and free her from her crystal encasement but
which to use first? Guy lays his hand upon the hilt of the sword but second-guesses himself and lifts the horn and sounds a note. Immediately the light disappears from the room and the voices of the awakening
warriors mock Guy for his choice from all around, advancing upon him with swords and spears. The
wizard becomes frightening, saying:

“Now shame on the coward who sounded a horn,
 When he might have unsheathed a sword!”

As a poisonous vapour permeates the air Guy passes out and wakes up stiff with cold back at the
closed doorway by the yew. He experiences visions of the sleeping beauty and the vault’s treasures,
compelling him to try again. Guy spends the rest of his life exploring the castle, trying to find a way back to the vault and after his death his spirit continues the search.

But still he seeks, and aye he seeks,
And seeks, and seeks in vain;
And still he repeats to all he meets,
 —”Could I find the sword again!—”
Which words he follows with a groan,
As if his heart would break;
And oh! that groan, has so strange a tone,
It makes all hearers quake!

Both Sir Guy and Walter of Tynemouth act with pure hearts and make the decision to sound an
ancient horn at the climax of their quests but the circumstances and outcomes are very different.
Walter is forced to act on impulse and triumphs while Guy’s indecision is the implied cause of his
failure.

A version of Sir Guy the Seeker’s exploits was written by Robert Owen of North Shields who also
collected the Tynemouth story although it is unclear whether this unpublished work predates Lewis’
version. Owen was a Northumberland folklore enthusiast but abandoned work on his table-book
when his health deteriorated. He was said to have moved to “distant climes” later in life.