Carved head of Charles 1 is on the head of a wine cask that had contained burgundy and which was a present from Mary de Medici, Queen of Henry IV of France to her daughter Henrietta Maria Queen of Charles 1 of England.
On this day in 1649, Kind Charles 1 was executed on scaffolding beside the Banqueting House, Whitehall . It was just before two in the afternoon when the King was finally summoned to the scaffold. He was conveyed through a window onto the platform. The beheading block was a mere eight inches high, so that he would have to lie prostrate at the feet of the executioner, and staples had been hammered in nearby so that he might be tied if he refused to submit to his death.
His final remarks to Bishop Juxon were “I go from a corruptible to an incorruptible crown” and “Remember”, presumably so that his words could be accurately conveyed to the Prince of Wales and others. The King made a last silent prayer, removed his cloak and lay down prone on the block. After a few seconds, he made a sign and the executioner performed his duty with a single blow.
At the Restoration in 1660, Parliament passed an Act for the
Attainder of people involved in the trail and execution of King Charles 1.
Twenty four of them had already died, including Cromwell, John Bradshaw (the Judge
who was President of the Court), and Henry Ireton (Cromwell’s son-in-law). These
three were given a posthumous execution whereby their remains were exhumed,
hanged and beheaded and their bodies cast into a pit below the gallows, their
heads were placed on spikes at the end of Westminster Hall. Several others were
hanged, drawn and quartered, while 19 were imprisoned for life. Property
confiscated from many, and most were barred from holding public office or title
again. Twenty-one of those under threat fled England, mostly settling in the
Netherlands or Switzerland, although three settled in New England.
The headsman and his assistant were unnamed and identified as “those two persons, … who being disguised by frocks and vizors, did appear upon the scaffold erected before Whitehall”. Sidney Lee states in the Dictionary of National Biography (1866) that the headsman may have been Richard Brandon. Richard Brandon was the Common Hangman of London in 1649 and he is frequently noted as the man who executed the death warrant of King Charles I; although the precise identity of the executioner is still unknown. Brandon had been approached and declined to do the job, although he might later have accepted under threat.
A pamphlet purporting to be a confession by Brandon was published posthumously, in which it is stated that he received £30 for performing the execution, which was given to him ‘all in half crowns’. The register of St Mary Matfelon, the parish church of Whitechapel, records “1649. June 2. Richard Brandon, a man out of Rosemary Lane.” And to this is added the following memorandum: “This R. Brandon is supposed to have cut off the head of Charles I”. This Brandon was the son of Gregory Brandon, and claimed the headman’s axe by inheritance – he was even known as “Young Gregory”.
Gregory Brandon was said to be the illegitimate grandson or great grandson of Charles Brandon, 1st Duke of Suffolk. The notoriety of Gregory and “Young Gregory” led
to “the Gregory Tree” becoming a euphemism for the gallows, and was
one of the reasons for the decline in popularity of the name Gregory. The name “Gregory” became a general
nickname for executioners:
More details of the Richard Bardon’s confession can be seen at http://anglicanhistory.org/charles/brandon_confession1649.html
Parliamentary Act of 1660-61 ‘for the Attainder of several persons Guilty of the Horrid Murther of His late Sacred Majesty King Charles the First’
No doubt they’ll soon get well; the shock and
strain
Have caused their stammering, disconnected talk.
Of course they’re ‘longing to go out again,’—
These boys with old, scared faces, learning to walk.
They’ll soon forget their haunted nights; their cowed
Subjection to the ghosts of friends who died,—
Their dreams that drip with murder; and they’ll be proud
Of glorious war that shatter’d all their pride…
Men who went out to battle, grim and glad;
Children, with eyes that hate you, broken and mad.
Shell shock in the First World
War could obliterate the lives of survivors. It is estimated that by the end of
the War over 80,000 cases of shell shock were treated by British Army medical
facilities. The psychological damage inflicted on thousands of young men,
described by Sassoon in his poem Survivors,
can be seen in the recently opened records of St George’s Hospital, Morpeth.
One such case was that of Walter Winn, who enlisted into Royal Marines on the 3rd
August 1915 in Newcastle, aged 17. Walter was an Insurance Clerk, born in
Morpeth 1898. His war record describes a young man of good character and
satisfactory ability. According to his doctor, Walter was a well-developed
youth with dark hair, blue eyes and a fresh complexion.
In the medical case notes from St George’s Hospital, it states that Walter’s ‘physiological attack’ has been caused by the shock of witnessing the sinking of the HMS Vanguard. On 9 July 1917, after a day on exercise at Scapa Flow, the Vanguard was sunk almost immediately by a series of internal explosions. Only three men on-board survived the initial blast. One of the injured men, Lieutenant Commander Duke, later died of his wounds. 843 men died in the explosion which remains the worst accident in the Royal Navy’s wartime history. One witness, Ernest ‘Mick’ Moroney, wrote in his notebook that a ‘trawler which was close by got smothered in blood and pieces of human flesh, and afterwards picked up half the body of a marine’.
The trauma of the experience had a profound effect on Walter and his case notes from St George’s Hospital paint a harrowing picture of his condition. His doctor wrote that Walter is deluded and ‘wildly excited’. He hears paranormal voices in the walls that give him electric shocks. He mutters to himself about ships and boats. The doctor notes that Mrs Winn, Walter’s mother, ‘says the lad has been sleeping badly, has threatened to commit suicide on several occasions, has tried to cut his throat with a table knife, which he had concealed up his sleeve, being prevented on one occasion by a sister.’
During the First World War many
men, like Walter, found themselves reliving their war and combat experiences
long after they had left the battlefield. The physical manifestation of shell
shock could include a broad range of symptoms affecting each man differently:
anxiety, paralysis, limping or jerking, blindness and deafness, nightmares,
heart palpitations, depression and disorientation. Such symptoms of shock were clearly
understood by the doctors at St George’s who noted that while Walter is
‘nervous’ and ‘abnormally quiet’ (except in his mutterings to imagined people),
his knee jerks, gait and speech are normal. In his notes the doctor appears
happy with the progress Walter is making, writing that he is ‘brightening
up’ and that he is ‘mentally much
improved’ in August 1917. By the end of September, however, he has relapsed,
possibly caused by being attacked by a fellow patient. Despite this setback, in
the October of 1917 Walter begins to make good progress again and by the 15th
April 1918 is he well enough to leave the Hospital. The final entry in the case
notes simply read ‘Discharged – Recovered’.
He had been at the Hospital for almost nine months. Walter’s war record states that he was discharged
from the military on the 19th March 1918, the reasons given as
‘Invalided – Insanity’. There is no mention of the sinking of the Vanguard or Walter’s mental shock. It
seems however, the Walter never fully recovered from his war time experiences.
In the 1939 Register records Walter as a patient at Newcastle City Mental
Hospital. Walter died, aged 76, in the care of Newcastle City Mental Hospital
and was buried at All Saints, Gosforth 7 May 1975.
The records of St Georges Hospital give a fascinating and often tragic insight into the lives of the victims of shell shock in our region.
I’m Teresa Maley, Cataloguing Archivist for the Twixt Thistle and Rose project. I’ll be working in Berwick over the next year, primarily, to create an electronic catalogue of the Borough records. My first job, back in 1981, was with the Northumberland Record Office. In those days the Record Office sent an archivist to Berwick once a week to open the Borough Archives to the public. That was my first encounter with these records and the people who used them.
Day one on the project
MANAGING THE RECORDS
Linda Bankier – who is also an Archivist by profession – leads the Berwick Record Office team and has worked here since the 1980’s. The Record Office is based in the Library building in Walkergate. Largely through her efforts, the service has grown from a minimal presence to a full time Record Office for Berwick and North Northumberland. The collections have grown too. Linda is assisted, for part of the week, by Carole Pringle and Martha Andrews. The team prepare and run the busy search room on Wednesdays and Thursdays throughout the year as well as delivering a full programme of events and outreach activities.
Researchers and Volunteers in the Archives
Activities include working with local schools, delivering talks to a variety of groups in the area, taking part in Heritage Open Days and other events and festivals in Berwick and North Northumberland. The Berwick Record Office is part of Northumberland Archives at Woodhorn so Linda and the team are also involved in projects organised further afield.
VOLUNTEERS, FRIENDS AND RESEARCHERS
The team has supported a number of local and national history projects that have revealed the richness and variety of the Berwick records – such as Peregrini, Berwick 900, Flodden 1513, Waite and Sea and and From Cholera to Comic. Many of the participants in those projects were keen to volunteer on subsequent projects or support the general work of the Berwick Record Office by transcribing, cataloguing or indexing records.
Over the last couple of weeks I have been meeting volunteers and have been impressed by the skill and dedication they bring to the tasks they undertake. Almost everyone seems to have had some experience of carrying out research before they volunteered – be it genealogical or historical. However, they are given training in palaeography and other aspects of archival practice by Linda to help them to read the records, understand and conserve them.
A list of work undertaken by volunteers would be very long so here is a flavour of what they do:
Indexing local newspapers extracting references to: nineteenth century Coroners reports (to fill gaps in the record series), Ships in and out of Berwick and their cargoes from the early 1800’s, Visitors to the seaside resort of Spittal in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries – recording it’s changing character over those years and reports about the lives of local soldiers on home leave during World War I
Indexing and transcribing Board of Guardians records for Berwick, Glendale and Belford – opening up records about poverty and public health
Summarizing, indexing and typing up the Guild correspondence, enrolment books and minutes so that the early history, fabric and governance of the Town is better known
Creating a searchable database of Freeman’s Admissions as part of the Berwick Families element of the Berwick 900 project
Indexing, transcribing and cataloguing the records of the Quarter and Petty Sessions – a mine of information for social historians
Creating a database of the Town Council Planning registers – full of details about major and minor building works – built or not built!
Conserving and cataloguing the music cards of the Kings Own Scottish Borderers Band – providing an insight into popular and military musical taste in the twentieth century
Cataloguing and conserving the Berwick Photo Centre archive – a huge task but unlocking a wonderful resource for anyone interested in a visual record of Berwick, North Northumberland and the Scottish Borders from the 1950’s
A history, in it’s many guises, of the Berwick Corn Exchange
and, more recently, a database created from the card index of Holy Island residents compiled by Professor Sheddick which was a part of the Peregrini project.
Peregrini logo
I was interested to hear the reasons why people volunteer – one person wants to keep up their touch-typing skills now they have retired, another told me it was the joy of handling original documents and others described the thrill of the chase when following a single story through several sources. I also met several people who have carried out their own research – long term projects such as the history of the salmon fisheries on the Tweed or studies of individual buildings and people of the area.
Some of the work the volunteers have done is destined to be included in the new catalogue as it is within the scope of the project and, personally, I’m very pleased that my task will be much easier with such knowledgeable and friendly people on hand!
RECORD KEEPERS OF OLD
Berwick is particularly lucky to have a full and almost unbroken series of records from the sixteenth century onward. It is clear that, from earliest times, protection of their records was of high importance to the Guild and Town. I have started to look at the some of the earliest Guild Books (more about them next time) and was heartened, as an archivist, to see such a robust record keeping system documented, monitored and practiced. When a Head Guild met, the clerk noted down first those present but the next item of business was usually a list of charters and other writings of the town that were securely held in the “Town Chist”. The clerk recorded when a document was removed (the reason why and to whom given) and when it was put back.
A sixteenth century security measure
This prompted me to
think about another group of people that should be mentioned here and who are relevant
to this project – those writers and keepers of the records that set a precedent
for the custodians of today.
The series of records Berwick has inherited would not be so complete had the Guild been less vigilant in the protection of its rights. From earliest times, the Guild knew that the key to a solid defence of those rights was the existence of authentic, written records and so ensured they protected and were in possession of their archives at all times.
However, the clerks who penned the town records must have tired of copying sometimes and this week, as if to remind me they shouldn’t be forgotten, I came across some of their less formal writings and doodles.
“Vox audita perit, sed Litera scripta manet”
I was also intrigued by this little pencil sketch
Marginalia in Draft Guild Book 1784-1793 (B2/8)
It reminded me of the
sign manual that Scottish notaries were obliged to place on the instruments
they wrote as one part of authenticating the document. The sign manual was a pen
and ink seal unique to them. Alternatively, the doodle has the look of a coat
of arms or it might just have been added later by someone reading rather than
writing the records.