A year has flashed by and the project to index two of the registers of the Archbishops of York, 1576-1650, will very soon come to an end. However, both registers are now fully indexed and the results are available for searching on line at https://archbishopsregisters.york.ac.uk
What will you discover?
Looking back over the work, it was perhaps a little surprising to find that the majority of the contents of those two registers comprised York Consistory Court wills (but no probate inventories), mostly of clergymen, but also some lay people. Earlier registers, such as those of Archbishop Neville (1374-1388) and Archbishop Lee (1531-1544), for example, appear to record a much greater variety of business.
However, wills have long been known to provide a very valuable source of information on many aspects of daily life in the past, revealing the testator’s material possessions, personal tastes, relationships and place in society. Needless to say, the wills in Registers 31 and 32 have done the same for the sixteenth and seventeenth century clergy and their families, offering a rich seam of interest and, on occasion, entertainment! Who would have thought that anyone would wish to receive a legacy of a chamber pot (Reg. 31, fol. 125 v, entry 3) or a ‘stoole of ease’ (commode) (Reg. 31, fol. 123 v, entry 2)? Who would have thought that cows would have been named ‘Daisy’ as long ago as in 1625 (Reg. 31, fol. 249 r, entry 1)? And would a testator leave his daughter his musical instruments if she were not able to play them or at least keen to learn (Reg. 32, fol. 113 r, entry 4)?
Otherwise, the registers have revealed such other aspects of the archbishops’ business as the technicalities of providing a diocese with a new bishop, following a strictly-laid down ecclesiastical legal procedure still adhered to today, requiring royal assent and formal election. The process of the archbishop’s visitation or periodical inspection of clergy and lay people in the province is also found in the registers, but few details of matters for concern discovered and corrected appear. This omission is explained by the fact that by around this date, a separate series of records for visitations, including visitation court books, had been created (YDA/6, 1567-).
Durham clergy list 1577
Another feature of this type of material was that records of the archbishop’s visitation of the diocese of Durham in 1577 are very detailed in including lists of names of all the clergy in the archdeaconries and deaneries of the diocese summoned to appear before the archbishop with their credentials, together with the names of several churchwardens and others, such as schoolmasters, in each parish (see for example, Reg. 31, fols. 30r-34-v, containing 105 names).
Nevertheless, even the routine business of the archbishops can have its lighter moments. That and other visitations of the diocese of Durham also show the immense difficulties encountered by the archbishops of York in carrying out these inspections. This was particularly true of visitations of the cathedral clergy, who strenuously resisted the process, to the point of excluding the archbishop’s deputy, the Bishop of Durham, also in 1577, from their chapter house by locking him out (Reg. 31, fol. 33v, entry 7). The registers then go on to present the farcical picture of the bishop, sitting on a chair near the entrance doors of the chapter house, attempting to continue the visitation proceedings from outside (Reg. 31, fol. 34 r, entry 2)!
Among the other high points of the project has been the discovery in Register 32 of a seating plan showing the allocation in 1636 of seats or pews in the chapel of Holmfirth in the parish of Kirkburton, in the West Riding of Yorkshire (Reg. 32, fols. 94 A & B). This plan is equally rich in names of local inhabitants, so giving a kind of snapshot of the area at the time, and would prove very useful for any local historians interested in the place in producing a study of the chapelry and its local families, perhaps similar to that created in 1700 by the English author and antiquarian, Richard Gough, who also based his work on such a plan of the church of Myddle, in Shropshire.
Pew plan, Chapelry of Holmfirth, 1636
It was excellent to be able to publicise the registers and discoveries such as these showing potential for research at the ARKDIS conference in Uppsala in Sweden this summer and also present a poster session on the project at the ARA conference in London this month. Next year, a presentation on the project, also showcasing material from the registers, particularly items found in wills, will also be given at the University of Huddersfield’s ‘The Material Culture of Religious Continuity and Change 1400-1600’ conference to be held there.
Going back to wacky names for animals, however, it has also been most enjoyable blogging about the project and revealing that cow’s name to the world!
So, now that the work is almost complete, very many thanks to all at the Borthwick, especially Gary Brannan and also Julie Allinson in IT, for all their help and support during my time on such a fascinating and absorbing project.
Written by Helen Watt, Marc Fitch Project Archivist
As a recent authority states, we have been naming animals for thousands of years; not only did the ancient Egyptians give names to animals, but also the ancient Greeks, for example, Alexander the Great called his horse, Bucephalas (‘ox-head’)1. Apart from horses, other types of animal, particularly farm animals, may be given names for many reasons, predominantly because the animals are seen as individuals and are treated as such among the herd or flock, long before the days of factory farming with large herds and uniform breeds. Otherwise, they might be named according to any distinctive markings or characteristics, apparent to their handlers in everyday work.
Sources for names of animals are often provided by wills and when Canon J. S. Purvis, first Director of the Borthwick, compiled his Classified Subject Index for material held there, he included a section for Agriculture covering names of horses, cows and oxen. Examples for these were taken from various series of York Province ecclesiastical documents such as Probate Registers, Dean and Chapter Probate Registers and the Cause Papers. Only a few references to named animals in one of the registers of the Archbishops of York, Register 28 of Archbishop Lee (1531-1544), are given. However, it is now possible to add many more such references from other registers, thanks to the University of York’s project funded by the Marc Fitch Fund, developing the earlier Archbishops’ Registers Revealed Project funded by the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation. The results of this project are now available on line via https://archbishopsregisters.york.ac.uk/ and provide an index to all the entries in Registers 31 and 32, covering the period 1576 to 1650. In the process of adding keywords to entries for the many wills of clergymen found within, several legacies of horses and farm animals, especially cows, including those mentioned by name have been identified.
‘a cowe called nightegale’
Apart from flower and bird names, such as ‘Primrose’, ‘Marigold’, ‘Nightingale’ (1581, Reg. 31, fol. 94r) and ‘Daisy’ (‘Daze’, 1625, Reg. 31, fol. 249r), names given to cows show many of the characteristics identified by scholars such as Leibring and also Keith Thomas and George Redmonds, particularly with reference to Yorkshire names and including some of those listed by Canon Purvis 2. For instance, ‘praise’ names, such as ‘Lucky’ (1632, Reg. 32, fol. 29r), or names celebrating the animals’ nature, such as ‘Stately’ (1599, Reg. 31, fol. 139r). Others might denote the animal’s physical markings or makeup, such as cows called ‘Brownie’ (1577, Reg. 31, 80v), ‘Great Brownie’ and ‘Young Brownie’ (1588, Reg. 31, fol. 106v), also ‘Great Allblack’ (1609, Reg. 31, fol. 158v).
Other names may seem to be harder to classify, including such names of heifers as ‘Jeliver’ (1594, Reg. 31, fol. 132r), ‘Tymlye’ (1629, Reg. 32, 96v), ‘Flowrell’ (1584, Reg. 31, fol. 97r) or ‘Sternill’ (1625, Reg. 31, fol. 249r). However, some of these appear to be favourites, handed down over the years. For instance, ‘Tymmyll’, perhaps a variant of ‘Tymlye’, occurs nearly a hundred years earlier (1546, Probate Register 13, fol. 171), as does ‘Starneld’, perhaps a variant of ‘Sternill’ (1565, Reg. 30, fol. 24r). One name which seems to have persisted in some form in the York Probate Registers between at least the 15th and 16th centuries is ‘Motherlike’ (‘Moderlybe’, 1441, Probate Register 2, fol. 25; ‘Motherlicke’, 1585, Probate Register 23, fol. 186), which may be of particular interest as it has been compared with similar types of cattle names from Scandinavia, perhaps suggesting an earlier origin, who knows, possibly even from Viking times 3.
This phenomenon is not restricted to Yorkshire, but is found in other areas of the country; evidence from Essex wills also shows the same kind of naming practices, with cows called ‘Gentle’ and ‘Brown Snout’ and even ‘one black cow called Tytt’ 4. Back in Yorkshire, if I had to choose one of these kinds of name, my favourite of all – for a cow difficult to milk, maybe – is Shorte Papps (1588, Reg. 31, fol. 106v)!
‘A cow called shorte papps’
1. Katharina Leibring, ‘Animal Names’, in Carole Hough (ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Names and Naming (Oxford, 2016), Part VII, section 43, 615-627.
2. Keith Thomas, Man and the Natural World (London, 1983), pp. 93-6; George Redmonds, Names and History: People, Places and Things (London, 2004), p.148.
3. Katharina Leibring, ‘Animal Names’, in Carole Hough (ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Names and Naming (Oxford, 2016), Part VII, section 43.3.2.1, Names in Europe’s Traditional Agricultural Societies.
4. F. G. Emmison, Elizabethan Life: Home, Work and Land, Essex Record Office Publication No. 69 (Chelmsford, 1991), p. 52.
Since April, I have been steadily working through the Yorkshire Wildlife Trust’s fascinating and extensive archive. I have now surveyed over half of the records that have been deposited here at the Borthwick Institute – about 84 boxes, or 570 files! – and along the way have rediscovered items that give interesting insights into the history of the Trust. I’m going to release some of these snippets as blog posts, and some of them – like this one – will also be published in Yorkshire Wildlife Trust’s magazine.
One of the first things I came across during my survey of the archive was a volume of press cuttings from 1971. The entry that immediately drew my eye was a handwritten note that read ‘Due to a postal strike, most of the annual reports were delivered by hand in this year. To mark the occasion, our own stamp was produced by the computer in the Biology Department at York University.’ This intrigued me for several reasons – least of all trying to imagine a Biology department with just a single computer!
Stamp from press cuttings, 1971. YWT/A114/2/2
The strike mentioned was Britain’s first national postal strike, and it was to run for seven weeks from 20th January to 7th March 1971. With no postal service available, the February meeting of the Trust’s Executive Committee began to make plans for what was known as Operation Cleft Stick. Overseen by then Executive Officer, Colonel John Newman, the operation saw the delivery of 2,500 copies of the 1970 Annual Report to Trust members.
The Yorkshire Evening Press described the ‘hectic week’ of filling envelopes and transporting them across Yorkshire and beyond to be delivered by Trust volunteers. The report was an important one, marking both the Silver Jubilee of the Trust and the end of European Conservation Year, and including updates on the ongoing threat to Askham Bog from the construction of York’s outer ring road.
As well as capturing an example of how the Trust responded to the impact of national events, this snippet from the archive also represents just one example of a longstanding history of collaboration between the University and the Trust, which continues to this day.
Written by Gaby Davies, archives intern and University of York History undergraduate
I didn’t really know what to expect when I first started interning at the Borthwick; I had never visited the institute before, but as a history student I knew that spending eight weeks surrounded by old papers and documents, in one of the UK’s biggest and most well-respected archives, would be heaven. My role for the past two months has been digitising the finding aids of several archives and putting them on the Borthcat website, making them more easily accessible so people know what archives the Borthwick has without having to call up and ask for a list. I have also been contributing to Facebook and Twitter posts whenever I find something interesting, and I wrote a blog post about medicinal alcohol, a subject which I wanted to investigate after puzzling over a ‘wine and spirits book’ found in the York Medical Society catalogue. I was given a lot of freedom to write about anything I thought was interesting, and I love the way that everyone working in accessions with me was encouraged to do personal research into what really interests them, as it leads to impassioned blogs and social media posts that are well-researched and great for drawing people in and inspiring them through our collection.
Questionable medical advice in The Retreat Archive,
I have especially loved digitising the finding aid for the Miscellaneous Documents archive; the collection is so eclectic, and from such a diverse range of sources and time periods, that without being able to access the listing online people had no idea of the amazing and often surprising things hidden within the archive. Items in MDs can range from an early 13th century charter, to a 1930s album of Nestle-produced stamps, and from beautiful 18th century family photographs to a euphemism-laden medical pamphlet for teenagers from the early 1900s entitled ‘The Dawn of Womanhood’ (side note: this is a very entertaining read).
A letter from the poet W. B. Yeats in the MacCarthy Foulds Archive
The whole process of digitising the archive included linking accession records and writing authority records associated with the items, which involved a lot of research, and I also photographed many of them to use the most interesting on social media. The social media I was particularly excited about, as I wanted to photograph the documents that would inspire people to take an interest in this seemingly random collection. (There will be tweets about the MDs soon, by the way; look out for the hashtag #miscdocuments!). I feel like this is a significant mark I have been able to make on the Borthwick online catalogue, and it has been incredibly enjoyable being able to go through these items and research more about them. I was, however, very worried about breaking something priceless and for the first few weeks found myself constantly asking ‘Are you sure I’m allowed to touch this? Absolutely sure?! I might just leave it there…’
Commemorating the launch of the new National Health Service in this 1948 magazine from the York County Hospital Archive
I have also learned so much about the process of archiving collections, various archival schools of thought and the importance of archives to academia as a whole. My wonderful colleagues Sally and Lydia showed me how an archive goes from being deposited to being catalogued, the importance of organisation and thoroughness in all aspects of the archive, the correct way of handling documents and some very important research skills, as well as being encouraging and friendly throughout. They’ve also given some very useful advice on how to work towards a career in archives. The people who work at the Borthwick make it such a welcoming and exciting environment to work in; ask any Borthwickian what they have been doing that day, you are guaranteed to receive an interesting story about a document they found that morning, or a snippet of historical information they’ve been researching. Some of the most interesting bits of history I’ve learned about during the internship have been completely unrelated to the documents I’ve been looking at, and have just been things I stumbled upon whilst researching authority records or talking to others. Did you know, for instance, that in late 16th century East Sussex puritans often baptised their children with strange, devoutly Christian names, such as in the case of ‘If-Christ-had-not-died-for-thee-thou-hadst-been-damned Barebone’ and our own Archbishop of York ‘Accepted Frewen’? Or that in the 16th century it was assumed that if you were born through caesarean section you would have a lifelong fear of women?
One of the many hidden gems of the Miscellaneous Documents collection
Interning here has made me want to rush out and remind all of my fellow history students at York about the amazing resource that we have, sitting in the library packed to the brim with incredible documents that you can look at for free. I will definitely be using the archives for future history projects, or maybe just if I have a spare hour next time I’m in the library and I want to look at some old editions of the student newspaper. I want to thank everyone at the Borthwick for making my internship so enjoyable and for teaching me so much, I’m going to miss working here and it has inspired me to consider a career in archives, as it seems like a job in which you can take immense personal pride in your achievements, is interesting and varied and you can always be intricately involved with the subject that you love, and surrounded by people who love it as much as you do.
Our Conservation department is pleased to report that we have a number of archives and special collections that will be going on loan this year. Loaning archival material, especially for the purpose of display, is an exciting way to increase access to the archives. It is an excellent opportunity to raise awareness of our collections, and to build up context and associations for our archives, giving them greater depth.
Our largest loan request this year was from Fairfax House in York. Fairfax House has asked to borrow 4 books and 1 pamphlet from the University of York Special Collections and 4 objects from the Retreat Archive at the Borthwick Institute, to be displayed in their exhibition In Pursuit of Pleasure: The Polite and Impolite World of Georgian Entertainment, which runs from Friday 29th July to Saturday 31st December 2016.
The conservator’s role in the loans process is to reduce the risks that the archives might face while away from home. This can take various forms.
Fig. 1 Sample page from UKRG Facilities Report
Initially we need to gather details about the loan that could impact on the safety of the archives. We want to ensure that security has been fully considered at all stages of the loan, including transport, storage, access and display. We would request information about the environment that the archives will be stored and/or displayed in, which would take into account aspects such as temperature and humidity, light levels and exposure, and fluctuations in these environmental factors. We would also want to know what materials the display cases, mounts or supports will be made from, to check that they are appropriate and there will not be anything that might damage the archival materials.
Often facilities reports will be filled in and returned to us, which provide most of the information outlined above (fig.1). Fairfax House sent us a facility report along with 2 supplementary reports – one on security and one on display cases – which addressed almost all of our questions very quickly. Any extra enquiries can then be easily answered.
If there are any concerns with the information that we have gathered, our first response is to look for solutions to problems and ways to work around any issues. If we can be helpful, we are keen to provide advice and support to the people and/or organisation that will be responsible for the archives while they are on loan.
There were no obstacles to the Fairfax House loan, but as they will be providing their own mounts and supports we were able to offer advice and suggestions on these aspects from our condition reports (see below). Previous loans to other organisations have included the additional loan of equipment such as display cases, book rests or weights, as well as environmental monitoring equipment such as data loggers to record temperature and humidity, blue wool samples to monitor light exposure or simple Oddy testing materials to check for off-gassing.
Each item requested for loan is condition assessed to confirm that it is in adequate condition for the purpose of the loan. We will undertake written and photographic documentation of each item, which should effectively communicate the structure and materials of the item and the condition of these different aspects (fig.2).
Accurately recording the condition of items before they leave the building is also the only way in which we can monitor any changes that may occur while they are away. The vast majority of loans are made to people who are careful with the archives, but there have been occasions where carelessness or lack of knowledge has led to damage. If we are aware of what has happened then we can prepare for it better next time.
Fig.2 Photographic documentation
Assessment also gives us the opportunity to highlight any specific advice or cautions with regard to individual items and the purpose of the loan. If a volume requested for exhibition is very large or has a restricted opening and extra thought will be needed regarding a book rest, this can be passed on. If the item has been requested for access but the materials are too unstable to be handled, we can discuss what the options are.
As Fairfax House had decided to provide their own book supports, our condition reports allowed us to make recommendations as to the maximum angle of safe opening for display on books that have a restricted opening or damaged joints. It also gave us the opportunity to highlight any particular damage or weaknesses – forewarned is forearmed!
Fig.3 Page requested for display is detached
Once we have assessed the items conservators can also undertake any treatments to ensure that the items are as stable as possible for the loan.
One of the volumes requested for the Fairfax House exhibition had several detached pages, one of which was the page selected for display (fig.3). The volume does not open freely, and straps will be required to keep the book open at this page; therefore the loose, protruding pages could be at risk of damage from both handling and the straps. All detached pages were reattached to the volume.
This book also had a detached back board. It was decided that it was not necessary to reattach the board for the exhibition. As long as the board is carefully positioned on the book support, it will still be able to provide the necessary support for the textblock while the volume is on display. The damage has been noted, and this information will be stored on our Work Required database, to be addressed in the future.
Fig.4 Packaging objects for loan
Finally, conservators package loan items to ensure that they are transported safely. Usually this will include: individual packaging for each item; a box for easy transfer; padding within the box to stop the items moving around and to provide an environmental buffer for the items; and a plastic covering for the box in case it rains!
Sometimes packaging for loans needs to be more extensive. Fairfax House has requested a number of un-accessioned objects from the Retreat archives, including various manacles and restraints. It was necessary to rethink their packaging, to ensure that the items were secure during transit. Layers of Plastazote were built up to create a mould for each item, and these were slotted together in a box (fig.4). The mould for each item is still separate, and so items can be stored in individual boxes on their return to the archive.
The exhibition at Fairfax House opens on Friday 29th July, and we are excited to see the items on display. If you get a chance to attend, see if you can spot the items that have come from the Borthwick and the University Special Collections!
For more information on the Fairfax House exhibition In Pursuit of Pleasure: The Polite and Impolite World of Georgian Entertainment, please see our news page.
Written by Sally-Anne Shearn, Genesis Project Archivist, with thanks to Major Graeme Green of the York Army Museum for his invaluable help and advice.
In 1860 Major Alexander Elliot exhibited a new painting in London. Entitled ‘The Charge of the Heavy Brigade, Balaklava, Ukraine’, it commemorated a remarkable but often overlooked action of the Crimean War which saw the British heavy cavalry repel an unexpected attack by a mounted Russian force – despite charging uphill against superior numbers, and led by a commander nearing retirement who was short-sighted and who had seen no military action in his career until he reached the Crimea. The charge took place on 25 October 1854 during what came to be known as the Battle of Balaclava. The day would be remembered for a very different charge, that of the Light Brigade into the ‘valley of Death’ immortalised by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, just six weeks later. However it was the Charge of the Heavy Brigade earlier in the day that would be praised by a French General at the time as a notable British victory and ‘the most glorious thing’ he ever saw.
‘The Charge of the Heavy Brigade, Balaklava, Ukraine, 1854’ by Alexander Elliot. Reproduced with kind permission of the Defence Academy of the United Kingdom.
The painting, which today hangs in the Defence Academy of the United Kingdom, shows a view of the charge from the British side looking uphill towards the advancing Russian cavalry and the Causeway Heights above the Balaclava Plain. Gun smoke hangs in the air above the mass of red and blue-grey uniforms and in the foreground horses and riders are hampered by the white tents of the Light Brigade camp and the trampled remains of an adjoining vineyard as they try to quickly turn to face the enemy. The scene is chaotic but in the clear space just to the right of centre a few British officers are shown more clearly, leading a large group, their uniforms identifying them as the 5th Dragoon Guards entering the fray in support of the 2nd Dragoons, known as the Greys.
Elliot’s work has attracted little notice in modern accounts of the Crimean War. However a recently discovered letter in the Halifax Family and Estate Archive, the archive of the Earls of Halifax held here at the Borthwick Institute, sheds new light not only on the history of the painting, but also on the actions and reputation of several of key players in that morning’s charge.
The letter was written in December 1860 by an unlikely investigator, William Montagu, 7th Duke of Manchester, and loses no time in setting out the issue at hand. ‘On the 29th or 30th October 1860 I met Lord Lucan in Curzon Street and asked him if the picture which Major Al[ex] Elliott had painted of the Heavy Cavalry charge at Balaclava & had given to Sir James Y. Scarlett, was correct,’ the Duke wrote to his unknown correspondent.
The opening of the letter between the Duke and his unknown correspondent. Borthwick Institute, HALIFAX/Derby Papers/Box 2
Lord Lucan was George Bingham, 3rd Earl of Lucan and commander of the Cavalry Division at the Battle of Balaclava. Lucan immediately denied the accuracy of the painting ‘in strong language’ and went on to give his account of events, which the Duke carefully records in his letter. According to Lucan, on that morning the British cavalry (consisting of the Heavy Brigade and the Light Brigade) was positioned under the heights on the west of the Balaclava Plain. Having been ordered to send help to the town of Balaclava Lucan dispatched most of the Heavy Brigade east – 2 squadrons each from the 1st, 2nd and 6th Dragoons and the 5th Dragoon Guards, with only the 2 squadrons of the 4th Dragoon Guards held back.
It was ‘after they had started, when they had got to the other side of an Orchard’ that he received word that a large force of Russian Cavalry, 2000 strong, were descending the hill and would certainly intercept them. He ‘gallopped off’ to warn the men, managing to stop some of the 2nd Dragoons (the Scots Greys) and the 6th Dragoons (the Inniskillings) and bring them into formation before ordering them to ‘charge the head of the Column of Russian Cavalry’ who were approaching downhill in two columns with wings. As the British squadrons met the Russians at barely a trot the two wings closed in, trapping them until Lucan ordered the 4th Dragoon Guards to charge their flank, breaking through the enemy line. It was, in Lucan’s opinion, a victory for the 4th Dragoon Guards, declaring to the Duke that the 5th Dragoon Guards ‘did nothing’ and that ‘the 4th won the battle.’ The Russians were put to flight and the Heavy Brigade, despite being outnumbered 5 to 1, were victorious. The whole action took less than 10 minutes.
“No, they did nothing – the 4th won the battle” – Lord Lucan’s judgement of the Charge of the Heavy Brigade. Borthwick Institute, HALIFAX/Derby Papers/Box 2
Evidently not content with this single view of events however, the Duke then sought the opinion of the artist himself. Major Alexander Elliot could claim equal authority as a witness, having been at the head of the charge as aide de camp to the commanding officer of the Heavy Brigade, the then 55 year old General James York Scarlett. Elliot told the Duke that he ‘had heard that Lucan said it was in correct’ but defended his work, claiming to have consulted ‘several officers who had been present who said his sketches were quite correct’. His own account of events, again recorded carefully by the Duke, offers yet more detail and a second eyewitness account of that morning.
For Elliot the day began before first light when the cavalry had been sent to the foot of the Causeway Heights that divided the plains of Balaclava and Chernaya. Reconnaissance had noted nothing beyond the higher ground, but already some amateur scouts had reported seeing Russian forces massing behind the Turkish redoubts on the Heights. At 6am the Russians attacked and the Turks fled, ceding the advantageous higher ground to the enemy who soon opened fire on the British cavalry, forcing them to take cover and eventually to retreat towards the Light Brigade camp to the west, next to an abandoned vineyard. It was as they reached the camp that Elliot states they were ordered to return to assist Sir Colin Campbell in his defence of Balaclava.
Cavalry camp near Balaclava, 1855. Photograph taken in the Crimea by Roger Fenton. Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division [LC-USZC4-9117 (color film copy transparency)]
It is at this point that Elliot’s account begins to differ from Lucan’s. According to Lucan it was he who received reports that the Russians were approaching, causing him to gallop after the Heavy Brigade and pull back enough men to mount a charge. In Lucan’s own words, General Scarlett ‘was at the head of the Column and did not see what was going on’ and only belatedly formed his squadrons into a second line. Elliot however claimed that the Heavy Brigade had scarcely changed direction to return to Balaclava when he himself alerted Scarlett to the Russian Cavalry who had suddenly appeared over the hill to the North and were advancing towards them at a trot. Scarlett doubted it at first ‘but with the glass saw that it was so’ and immediately turned the 2nd and 6th Dragoons to face the enemy.
‘They had scarcely changed their front when Elliott pointed our to Sir J. Scarlett that Russian Cavalry was coming over the hill to the north.’ Borthwick Institute, HALIFAX/Derby Papers/Box 2
A first-hand account of the charge by Sergeant Major Henry Franks gives a slightly different description, claiming that the alert was given by a member of Lucan’s staff who called out to Scarlett to ‘look to your left!’ as the mass of Russian cavalry suddenly came into sight, just a few hundred yards away and mere moments after the Heavy Brigade had been ordered to return to support Campbell. The result however was the same. ‘As soon as General Scarlett saw the position’, Frank wrote, ‘he gave the order ‘Wheel into line, charge’ and like a true Briton, which he was, he placed himself in front of the Troops and led them.’
This agrees with Elliot’s account, which claims that far from being unaware of what was going on, Scarlett rode out ahead of his rapidly manoeuvring line of men, Elliot at his side, ‘hollering to them to come on’ before he charged uphill towards the Russians who, ‘quite astonished’ according to a Lieutenant who was present, slowed to a walk and then a halt. Another officer, Sergeant Major Gowing, wrote that ‘how ever that gallant officer [Scarlett] escaped was a miracle, for he led some thirty yards right into the jaws of death and came off without a scratch.’
The fighting was fierce, with Elliot and Scarlett quickly surrounded by the enemy and separated in the crowd. So sudden was the attack, in fact, that soldiers fought partly amongst the tents and debris of the Light Brigade’s camp, causing Cornet Grey Neville’s horse to stumble over a picket rope and throw him to the ground where he was stabbed to death. Elliot himself received a ‘bad cut across the back of the head’ and fourteen sabre wounds in total, and Scarlett was reported to have received five sabre cuts and a dented helmet.
The fate of Cornet Grey Neville, son of Lord Braybrook, who was ‘speared’ on the ground, after falling from his horse, and killed. Borthwick Institute, HALIFAX/Derby Papers/Box 2
Crucially Elliot claims that it was the 5th Dragoon Guards, and not the 4th, that ‘came up the rear of the greys’ (the 2nd Dragoons) in support, attacking the flank of the Russian Cavalry, and it is this moment that he captures in his 1860 painting. Moreover Elliot was keen to impress upon the Duke that it was Scarlett, not Lucan, who deserved credit for the successful charge, asserting positively ‘that Lucan was in the rear of the heavy Cavalry – and gave them no orders. The whole thing was done by Scarlett’.
‘Elliott asserts positively that Lucan was in the rear of the heavy Cavalry – and gave them no orders. The whole thing was done by Scarlett.’ Borthwick Institute, HALIFAX/Derby Papers/Box 2
What can we make of these conflicting accounts? Contemporary and modern interpretations of the Battle of Balaclava attribute the Heavy Brigade’s victory to Scarlett and it was Scarlett who was personally commended by the Commander of British forces in the Crimea, Lord Raglan, for the action. Both Franks and Elliot place him at the front of the charge and even the Duke of Manchester seems sceptical of Lucan’s claim that Scarlett did not know what was going on, adding an exclamation mark in parentheses after his remark.
Lucan certainly had reason to want to present his role in the charge in a favourable light. It was he who received the ambiguous order from Raglan later that day and instructed Lord Cardigan to lead the Light Brigade down the North Valley, leading to the most infamous blunder of the war. Raglan personally blamed Lucan for the error, publicly declaring that Lucan had ‘lost the Light Brigade’ and censuring him in official dispatches for not exercising his discretion by questioning the command. Lucan was subsequently recalled to England in March 1855 and despite his later exoneration his less than glorious part in the Battle of Balaclava must have rankled.
However it is also possible that the truth lies somewhere in between the two accounts. That Lucan was indeed ‘at the rear’ of the Heavy Brigade and gave no orders directly to Scarlett, but still rallied men of the 2nd and 6th Dragoons to charge and brought the 4th Dragoon Guards in to attack the Russian flank – and that Scarlett also saw what was happening and personally led the main part of the brigade in a charge. Modern historians agree that there was some discrepancy over who exactly had ordered the action. Situated as they were, at the head and rear of 300 men on horseback, amongst tents and other debris and facing the sudden appearance of 2000 enemy cavalrymen, confusion over exactly what happened and when is perhaps understandable. The 4th Dragoon Guards came in from the west to attack the right flank of the Russian cavalry, but the 5th Dragoon Guards supported the 2nd Dragoons, the Greys, coming up to attack the right flank of the Russians as it closed in behind them. ‘In a moment the Greys were surrounded and hemmed completely in,’ Godman wrote, but ‘as soon as we saw it, the 5th advanced and in they charged.’
For his services that day General Scarlett was promoted to Major-General and knighted the following year. He remained popular with the men under his command, a Light Brigade officer describing him as a ‘good kind old fellow…[the men] will follow him anywhere.’ He retired in 1870 and died in 1871 at the age of 72.
Lieutenant General, the Honourable Sir James Yorke Scarlett, K.C.B. Photograph taken in the Crimea by Roger Fenton. Library of Congress, Prints & Photographs Division [LC-USZC4-9303 (color film copy transparency)]
Elliot was recommended for his part in the Charge and was promoted to Brevet-Major in 1855, ending his career as a Major-General and Commander in Chief of the British forces in Scotland. Lucan’s career quickly recovered from the ignominy of Balaclava. He was promoted to Lieutenant General in 1858, General in 1865, and Field Marshal in 1887, dying in 1888 at the age of 88.
Whilst the disastrous Charge of the Light Brigade would go on to be memorialised in verse, music and film, the Charge of the Heavy Brigade has received far less notice and many are unaware that it too was commemorated in verse by Lord Tennyson, albeit some thirty years later. Unfortunately for Lucan, it is with ‘Scarlett and Scarlett’s three hundred’ that the poem is concerned, drawing the charge to a triumphant close.
For our men gallopt up with a cheer and a shout, And the foeman surged, and waver’d, and reel’d Up the hill, up the hill, up the hill, out of the field, And over the brow and away. Glory to each and to all, and the charge that they made! Glory to all the three hundred, and all the Brigade!
Bibliography
Roy Dutton, ‘Forgotten Heroes: The Charge of the Heavy Brigade’ (Wirral, 2008)
Sergt, Major Henry Franks, ‘Leaves from a Soldier’s Notebook’ (Doncaster, 2016)
Donald Richards, ‘Conflict in the Crimea: British Redcoats on Russian Soil’ (2006)
Philip Warner, ‘A Cavalryman in the Crimea: The Letters of Temple Godman, 5th Dragoon Guards’ (2009)
Written by Gaby Davies, Borthwick Summer Intern (and York history student).
Whilst looking through the York Medical Society records, it was interesting to find the York County Hospital ‘Wines and Spirits book’ 1861-1865. The pages contain lists of names of doctors, rooms and incidents, and the corresponding number of servings of port, sherry, brandy or gin that was needed. Doctors seem to be doling out spirits and wines on a daily basis to their patients, and giving more for particularly bad events; September 29th 1861 required 20 servings of brandy due to the ‘Lendal Bridge accident yesterday’, and on 9th January 1861 8 servings of port were needed due to a ‘railway accident’. This seems to make it clear that this is medicinal alcohol, rather than that beverages ordered by patients (and not doctors getting through a particularly difficult shift).
BI, YMS/5/1/2
This reliance on alcohol seems startling from a contemporary viewpoint, but in the early- to mid-19th century, Victorian doctors relied on alcohol heavily for quite general medical purposes, although towards the late 19th century medical opinion did start to turn against alcohol as a catch-all solution to ailments, and it started to be seen harmful and addictive. Before this point, however, alcohol was prescribed liberally both as a stimulant and a sedative. Brandy was used to ‘stimulate circulation’, to resuscitate the unconscious much like smelling salts, and in emergencies, especially outdoor pursuits such as hiking and skiing. In hospitals it was often given intravenously or even (wince) rectally. Even in 1920, physician William Hale White espoused its virtues, primarily as ‘A pleasant depressant, peculiarly efficacious in inhibiting peripheral impulses, such as pain here, and discomfort there, that it diminishes those trivial worries which bother the sick. In larger doses it has the advantage of inducing sleep.’ This rather unscientific viewpoint may have been the reason the alcohol in this book seems to have been given to patients so regularly; for lack of other drugs it was a quick solution to mild pain or lack of sleep, and was an easy way to improve a patient’s comfort. It was even used for children when teething or colicky, and many ‘tonics’ sold by unlicensed practitioners for babies could be up to 50% alcohol. The fact that it was ‘opium free’ was often enough to convince mothers that the tonic was safe.
Victorian doctors also used alcohol enthusiastically as a painkiller for the dying, along with ether and opium. Combinations of ether, brandy and port wine were often used as a stimulant for a weak heart and to promote circulation, and brandy was additionally favoured for its aid to the digestive process. Doctor William Munk recommended that for those with a terminal illness, small quantities of alcohol should be given frequently, favouring port and sherry over champagne as the latter tended to wear off quickly.
Choosing the right alcohol for the right patients. BI, YMS/5/1/2
It was not just in England that this culture of medicinal alcohol was prevalent; in America during Prohibition, doctors could prescribe spirits to their patients and there was even a medical beer campaign, which congress had shut down by 1921 for fear that, as the New York Times put it, ‘druggists become bartenders and the drug store a saloon.’
Looking through The Retreat documents we find similar evidence of this general use of alcohol by doctors. One 1860s circular advertising ‘cheap light wines’ has two full pages of doctors’ recommendations, published in the Medical Times, of how wine can be used as an aid to breastfeeding (unless you are working class, in which case beer will do), a cure for acidity which would ‘add ten years to your patient’s life’, a drink to ‘fill the veins with pure healthy blood’ and as a healthier substitute to tea.
BI, RET/4/8/2/134
Several articles also recommend that wines are ‘admirably adapted for children’, and that for children ‘puncheons of cod-liver oil might be spared at the age of 16-20, if, at the age of 7-10…the physician had said, ‘give her some kind of light, clean tasting, sub-acid wine…so that it might tempt her to relish her mutton’. The document is an advertisement so these articles have clearly been cherry-picked, but the fact that they were published at all despite medical opinion beginning to turn at this point is an insight into the respect given to various quasi-scientific opinions of individual doctors, and the resulting effect that this had on patients.
Pure clean claret for nursing mothers? BI, RET/4/8/2/134
‘Medical alcohol’ would clearly have worked, to a certain extent, in dulling pain and making patients fall asleep. It can only have been a relief for mothers when, after hours of crying, their teething babies would finally drift off thanks to some ‘medicinal’ tonic which was basically the equivalent of giving them a shot of vodka. However, developments in the mid-to-late-19th century led to medicinal alcohol slowly declining as a cure. A better understanding of the pharmacology of alcohol came about, improved alternative treatments were developed, anaesthetics such as chloroform and nitrous oxide became more widespread, alcoholism and its dangers to the human body became better understood and the temperance movement became more prominent. Brandy was still occasionally recommended even in the 1930s as a general sedative, a food for those finding it hard to take in physical nutrition and up until the 1940s there were still debates as to whether it could help in cases of pneumonia. This ‘wine and spirits’ book is a fascinating relic of a time where the virtues of alcohol were widely accepted and recommended by doctors, and can give us an insight into the lack of alternative, effective medicines at this time.
And on a purely curious note, it leaves us wondering why the laundry maid regularly checked out 3 servings of port!
Beverly Gage, ‘Just What the Doctor Ordered’ in Smithsonian Magazine (http://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/just-what-the-doctor-ordered-80480921/?page=2&no-ist)
Henry Guly, ‘Medicinal Brandy’ in Resuscitation (July, 2011).
Patricia Jalland, Death in the Victorian Family (Oxford, 1996).
R. H. Kinsey, ‘An Address on Alcohol and on Drainage’ in The British Medical Journal (1883).
The Rose Melnick Medical Museum, ‘Medicinal alcohol and Prohibition’ (https://melnickmedicalmuseum.com/2010/04/07/medicinal-alcohol-and-prohibition/)
Written by Helen Watts, Marc Fitch Fund Project Archivist
Our Marc Fitch Fund Project Archivist, Helen Watt, gives us some thoughts and reflections following the completion of initial work in indexing one of our Archbishops’ Registers and attempts to answer an old indexers’ question – can you ever really be sure when using a previous index?
Having worked on the pilot for ‘York’s Archbishops’ Registers Revealed’ in 2012, generously funded by the Andrew W. Mellon Foundation, it is excellent to be able to put the theory devised during that pilot into practice. Thanks to funding from the Marc Fitch Fund, since October 2015, work has been underway on Registers 31 and 32 using the newly-developed indexing tool. This period covers 1576-1650 and includes the tenures of Archbishops Edwin Sandys (1577-1588), John Piers (1589-1594), Matthew Hutton (1595-1606) in Register 31; and the archiepiscopates of Archbishops Samuel Harsnett (1619-1631), Richard Neile (1632-1640) and John Williams (1641-1650) in Register 32.
Since the examination of Register 31 was completed last month, it is now possible to reflect on the process of indexing a register of the Archbishops of York of this date and, crucially, the kind of material found within it. To put them into some context, none of the registers for this period have been subject to any previous indexing work – unlike their medieval predecessors where various published and indexed versions have been created since the 19th century.
First of all, the quality of images of the registers produced during the Mellon project is excellent, especially for remote use, The images may also be greatly enlarged, so that even the smallest, faintest penstrokes may be read with ease.
Thanks to the quality of the images, we were able to discern this date as being the ‘xvth day of febuarie’ (Reg 31 f 76v)
The schema of subject headings compiled during the pilot has been integral to indexing subjects found in register entries, although some amendments have had to be made to cater for the post-reformation matters found in this register, as well as for matters to do with probate and archbishops’ visitations.
When indexing persons, there are two methods of dealing with personal names in the tool, either by inputting details of an individual straight into an entry, or by populating the Persons List with details before indexing. Using the second method, it was possible to draw on the work of several other projects, such as the Clergy of the Church of England Database, Fasti Ecclesiae Anglicanae (via British History Online), the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, particularly for parish and higher clergy, to build up the required information and so streamline input of persons.
Similarly, to speed up the indexing of places, not only could the project draw on lists of places compiled during the Borthwick Institute’s previous work on the Cause Papers, but also automatically harvest place-names from the Digital Exposure of English Place-names (DEEP) and the online Ordnance Survey.
As regards the contents of the register, these have mainly comprised probate of wills and grants of administrations, confirmations of elections of bishops and archbishops’ visitations, and guides to the procedures involved in all of these topics will be made available shortly. Wills copied into the register are mostly those of clergymen and although there is an existing index in the Yorkshire Archaeological Society Record Series vol. 93 (1937), comparison between this index and the original wills has allowed small errors to be corrected, mostly concerning dates of wills and probate – understandable when you consider the quality of the images we are working with now!
Even though these wills are well-known through that index, the new indexing tool has made it possible for them to be searched and explored online, making them so much more widely accessible and available and opening up their contents for research, so that many aspects of clerical life could now be studied.
For instance, the pious preambles of wills, often not simply formulaic in nature, but long and involved, together with the titles of books left as bequests, may reflect the doctrinal inclinations and learning of these clergymen. We might also see the clergyman as farmer, and father of his family as well as shepherd of his flock. We can sometimes see far-reaching connections with the Universities, with court, members of London Livery Companies, and relationships with gentry and noble patrons.
On 2nd May 1946, Yorkshire Wildlife Trust, then called Yorkshire Naturalists’ Trust, was legally incorporated. Founded in a post-war context, where the Government was keen to provide a ‘vision of a brighter Britain’1, the Trust’s first objective was “to protect places and objects of natural beauty or of ornithological, botanical, geological, zoological or scientific interest from injury, ill-treatment or destruction.”
The Trust was established to receive the gift of two plots of land at Askham Bog, a remnant of ancient Yorkshire fenland to the south of York. The bog was considered of particular interest due to the survival of many original species of flora and fauna. Indeed, it was later described as being “as uniquely interesting to the botanist and entomologist as is any archaeological treasure to the historian or antiquarian.”2 The plots had been purchased two years earlier, in 1944, by keen naturalists and confectioners Sir Francis Terry and Arnold Rowntree. These plots, along with the plot of land entrusted by Mr Lycett Green, made up the Trust’s first reserve.3
Vegetation Map of Askham Bog, 1933. BIA/YWT/A182
At its formation the Trust had a Council of eleven members, including President Sir Francis Terry and Vice President A.S. Rowntree, and five aristocratic patrons – the Duke of Devonshire, the Marquess of Zetland, the Earl of Feversham, the Earl of Halifax and Lord Middleton.
Individuals could become Ordinary members of the Trust upon application and a subsequent annual payment of 10 shillings, or a Life Member for £10.
In 1946, the aims of the Trust were already clear – a letter to the Society for the Promotion of Nature Reserves, written by Sir Francis Terry in that year, stated that ‘the acquisition of this Sanctuary is regarded as a first step only, as it is hoped that other suitable areas in Yorkshire will come into the hands of the Trust’.4 In the seventy years since that letter was written, the Trust has certainly fulfilled this early vision and now cares for over 100 reserves across Yorkshire, as well as campaigning for wildlife on a regional and national level.
The archive itself, even at this early stage of the project, has been fascinating to work through. With documents ranging from minutes of the first meetings to detailed site reports, from correspondence with local members to relationships with national organisations, it presents a unique and vital record of the important work of the Trust both in 1946 and in 2016.
Box count: 32.5 boxes surveyed…
Sources:
1. Sands, Tim. Wildlife In Trust (2012) p.19
2. Report on Askham Bog (BIA/YWT/A177/5)
3. Correspondence on Askham Bog 1966-1973. (BIA/YWT/A177/5)
4. Letter from Francis Terry, August 1946 (BIA/YWT/A108/2)
Written by Helen Watt, Marc Fitch Project Archivist
When David Cressy examined aspects of marriage in Tudor and Stuart times, he asked whether or not love played a part in courtship and marriage then (1). Unlike other historians, such as Laurence Stone, he considered that love was fundamental to marriage in that era and in support of his argument cited one Stuart source which stated that ‘to the end that marriages may be perpetual, loving and delightful betwixt the parties, there must and ought to be knitting of hearts before striking of hands’(2).
So is it possible to discover the affection in which an Elizabethan testator held his wife from the wording of his will? Perhaps, judging from wills being examined in the ‘York’s Archbishops’ Registers Revealed’ project. A project generously supported by the Marc Fitch Fund is currently indexing the Archbishops’ Registers for the period 1576-1650, and much of the content for this period consists of probate records, largely for beneficed clergy.
Take, for instance, the will of Charles Daintith (1557-1595), vicar of Kirk Ella, 1591-5, made shortly before his death (3). He mentioned his wife Isabel several times in strikingly loving terms, which do not seem to be merely formulaic, as ‘Isabell Jepson my beloved freind and my true and lawfull wief now by the lawes of this Realme established’ and ‘Isabell Jepson my welbeloved wief’.
‘my beloved freind’
He left the residue of his estate to his ‘beloved wief’ and made her his executrix on one condition, which was ‘desiring as there was ever true love betwixt her and me … that she will not forgett at hir ending if she keep hir so long unmaried my brother Gabriell and his children and my sisters children’.
Was this the same experience for all? Perhaps not, and the will of Barnabie Shepherd (d. 1588) may be a case in point (4) This was a nuncupative will, spoken before witnesses who recalled:
‘Memorandum that the Fyftenthe day of Februarie in the yeare of our Lorde God one thowsande, fyve hundrethe eightie seven, accordinge to the course and computacioun of the churche of Englande Barnabie Shepperde, bachelour of devynytye and parson of Bulmer, of the dyoces of Yorke being of perfecte mynde and memorye, and being asked and desyred to knowe to whome he woulde dispose or gyve his goodes, whether to his Wyfe, (meanynge Brygett Shepperde then his Wyfe) or not Annswered and sayd, yea to his wyfe, or the like wordes in effecte, in the presence of Fraunces Layton and Josias Fawether.’
So was he in pain or just bad-tempered or were relations between him and his wife less than loving?
‘yea to his wyfe’
We will never know!
Are these just two examples at either end of the spectrum of marital affection or are there many others waiting to be discovered as work progresses? Watch this space!
(1) David Cressy, Birth, Marriage, and Death: Ritual, Religion, and the Life-Cycle in Tudor and Stuart England (Oxford, 1997), pp. 260-3.
(2) Ibid., p. 262, citing from John Dod and Robert Cleaver, A Godly Forme of Houshold Government (1630).
