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Today in my post, I would like your understanding and for you to spend a couple of minutes humouring me âŠ
Read the original document below â it is from Great Dunmowâs churchwardensâ accounts of 1530 so is the financial records of a church. Read it aloud, without stopping (donât bother with the Roman numerals for the shillings and pence at the end of each line). Donât make notes but just read it in straight through in one attempt. If you stumble, just carry onto the next line. Everything you are reading is an English word or personâs name still in use today and all lines should make absolute perfect sense as you read it.
Unless you are very experienced in reading Tudor hand writing or you are a palaeography expert, then I suggest you found it very difficult – if not impossible. Not just reading it, but also understanding and remembering it. Did some of the words come in and out of focus â not just literal focus â blurry one minute but clear the next â but also mental focus? One minute you understood something but the next minute you couldnât and its meaning simply vanished into the deepest depths of your mind?
*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*
Thank you for humouring me and walking in my severely dyslexic childâs shoes. The difficulty you had in reading this 500 year old document is exactly the same experience my child has every day of his life reading modern English whether in a book, on a favourite iPad game, or written by hand.
Dyslexia is horrible. Not only do dyslexics have to cope with the difficulties you have just experienced but suffers are called “lazy”, âstupidâ, âacademically challengedâ and âthickâ. And to top it all, many dyslexic children, such as my child(ren), are denied a proper education suitable for their needs.
I should know. I am dyslexic too. And as a dyslexic, I had absolutely no trouble in reading the extract above because I have no pre-conceived ideas about the English language and âspelling rulesâ. Â Much like our Tudor accountant who most certainly didnât know about modern-English spelling â just how many ways can anyone spell âchurchâ! I spotted three different spellings just within that one little sample. Â Also, just look at the last word on second line (before the shillings & pence) and look at our Tudor scribe’s spelling of ‘house’ – ‘hawys’! Â And our Tudor accountant didnât know that correct modern grammar meant he should have written âfromâ or âforâ instead of âofâ!
My child would certainly not make a good Tudor accountant. Heâd be able to add up everything in his head without the need of a paper abacus because heâs a whiz at maths, but wonât be able to write it down in any comprehensible way. Â Oh, and if you think I was mean in displaying the extract in a strange black & white visual, then you may be surprised to know that many dyslexics also suffer from visual perception problems too. My son does. His is called Irlens Syndrome – black ink on bright white paper causes his eyes considerable stress. Not a good syndrome to have when you are also severely dyslexic.
These are  just the problems a dyslexic faces when reading.  There are equally severe problems with writing, which, for my child, is not helped by his dysprexia which makes pen control very difficult.
But for now, until his needs are properly met, thereâs the misery of the school years for him to stagger and lurch through.
Thank you for walking in my sonâs shoes
*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*
Speak roughly to your little boy,
And beat him when he canât read:
He only does it to annoy,
Because he knows he can really
Chorus: Wah! Wah! Wah
I speak severely to my boy,
I beat him when he canât read:
For he can thoroughly enjoy
Reading when he pleases!
Chorus: Wah! Wah! Wah
(Written with tongue firmly in cheek and apologies to Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
but dedicated to everyone everywhere who doesn’t ‘believe in dyslexia’
or thinks that dyslexic children are lazy or ‘aren’t trying’.)
If you are a regular reader of my blog, you will know that I have often published in the past images of medieval animals and creatures – cats, dogs and snails – all from the British Library’s illuminated manuscripts. Today, it’s the turn of the Macclesfield Psalter to yield up its secret feline friends who appear in its folios.
The first two images below are most certainly magnificent micing medieval cats.  But the last two? Are they cats… Or are they bears?
The Macclesfield Psalter – folio 79v
The Macclesfield Psalter – folio 106r
The Macclesfield Psalter – folio 14v
The Macclesfield Psalter – folio 182v.
He seems to be a cat with a beautiful winged hybrid creature in his mouth.
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It’s not often I start a blog with warning from a Shakespearean soothsayer, but today I shall because today is the Ides of March – the 15th day of March. The day on which, in 44BC, Julius Caesar was assassinated by his Roman senators. Apparently 60 senators took part in Caesar’s mass stabbing and over 20 wounds were inflicted on him.
Below are medieval images of Caesar’s murder.  I find it very interesting that in them, Caesar and his senators are depicted as Northern Renaissance wealthy merchants with their rich and ornate clothing, rather than toga and sandal-clad classical Romans.  Could Medieval sensibilities not cope with classical clothes?
Beware the Ides of March!
Caesar being murdered from Bellum Gallicum (Les commentaires de Cesar), (France, N. (Lille) and Netherlands, S. (Bruges?), 1473-1476), shelfmark Royal 16 G VIII f.331v
Murder of Caesar from Les anciennes hystoires rommaines, (Paris, France, Last quarter of the 14th century), shelfmark Royal 16 G VIII f.389
Murder of Caesar from La grant hystoire Cesar, (Netherlands, S. (Bruges), 1479) shelfmark Royal 17 F II f.344
Murder of Caesar from La grant hystoire Cesar, (Netherlands, S. (Bruges), 1479) shelfmark Royal 18 E V f.355v
I can’t resist quoting that immortal line spoken by the late great Kenneth Williams during the film ‘Carry on Cleo’…
Many people use the word âjourneyâ to describe something very personal to them which has been life changing (and possibly life-enhancing). Maybe a âspiritual journeyâ or an âemotional journeyâ on their way to the top as a world-class Olympic champion? My own journey has far less lofty aspirations: mine is to provide my vulnerable child, who has severe learning difficulties, the correct education he so desperately needs. A year ago this month, I decided that we had to do ‘something’ to stop the downward emotional and mental spiral of our small child who was struggling, and failing spectacularly, in mainstream education. So we withdrew him from school and, after failing to convince our local education authority as to the extent of his needs, took to the Courts to get them to provide protection for his educational needs. Sadly, having won the legal battle to convince my local education authority that he requires a Statement of Special Educational Needs, the war continues with the grown-ups still fighting through the courts for the precise education he so desperately needs. In the meantime, my son continues to be âhome educatedâ and so continues the massive spiritual, emotional and physical âjourneyâ for him and me. (It is totally beyond my understanding why I have to go to the law of this land to get the education that my child so desperately needs â isnât that a basic human right in our so-called progressive country?)
My own âjourneyâ is to be my childâs legal advocate, educational tutor and mentor. Me? Someone with nearly 30 years of experience of the hustle and bustle of the corporate IT world but zero experience of teaching children. Me: now tasked with organising the legal battle, along with personally tutoring one small vulnerable child, and, more importantly, arranging much more competent specialist tutoring than myself. Â But there are some considerable pluses to this âjourneyâ. Now, my eyes and ears are more alert and more receptive to the sights and sounds of life. Mine are the ears and eyes which are the conduit to teach my child about life and the universe: anything and everything.
In the first week of March, during a beautiful balmy English Spring-time, my ‘journey’ became one that is physical as we once more headed for the hills and arrived in Cornwall for a week of rest, relaxation and tuition. Last term, our quest was to search out Romans at Hadrianâs Wall in Northumberland. This term, our quest is to search out the dark ages and then onto medieval kings and queens. Our appetite was already wetted with watching every single programme on the recent discovery of the mortal remains of Richard III. Â We came to Cornwall expecting to find the far distant voices of King Arthur at Tintagel but didnât expect the echoes of Richard III and Henry VII in the furthest tips of Cornwall.
Our journey across this, one of the most beautiful counties of England, included early-modern stories of smugglers, Revenue Men, and Wreckers, along with modern-day stories of the sacrifice of the heroic lifeboat men of Penlee and Mousehole. It therefore seemed appropriate that we spent Tuesday 5th March 2013, St Piranâs Day, the patron Saint of Cornwall, walking through that most iconic of Cornish lands, St Michaelâs Mount.
5 March 2013, the Cornish flag on St Piran’s Day, St Michael’s Mount
What can be more enticing to a small child who can barely read and write then the legends and stories of this magical isle? Tales of seven foot giant skeletons found buried under the churchâs staircase⊠The legend of Jack the giant killer: the giant whose heart still vigorously beats in the chests of todayâs young children who pause for a moment to tread on his  heart which is buried within the very pathway to the top of the MountâŠ
And there on the foreshore of St Michaelâs Mount and the causeway to the island was lurking the Tudor story of Perkin Warbeck. Â The second of the Tudor Pretenders.
Perkin Warbeck, the second Tudor Pretender, born circa 1474, executed 1499
Perkin Warkbeck who pretended to be one of the Princes in the Tower. Â The long-dead brother of the long-since murdered Edward V, in 1490 Perkin Warbeck proclaimed himself to be Richard of Shrewsbury, Duke of York: the Yorkist king of England, Richard IV. Â A claim that was championed by no less than Margaret of Burgundy, the sister of Edward IV and Richard III, and, therefore, aunt to the real Princes in the Tower: Edward V and Richard. Â After much adventuring and political championing throughout the Continent, Perkin Warbeck finally landed by sea in Cornwall in September 1497 and took occupation of St Michael’s Mount. After refortifying the Mount’s castle, he left his beautiful wife, Lady Catherine Gordon, on the Mount for safety. From St Michael’s Mount, he and his army of west-country rebels marched through Cornwall and the south-west of England in his attempt to seize the English throne: an attempt which ended in failure and his capture at Beaulieu Abbey in Hampshire. Henry VII reached Taunton on 4 October 1497 when the Cornish rebels and Perkins’army surrendered. Perkin Warbeck finally met his maker and an unceremonious end on 23 November 1499 at the end of a rope on the gallows of Tyburn, London.
And the fate of Warbeck’s wife, Lady Catherine Gordon?  She suffered a very lenient fate at the hands of Henry VII.  She was the daughter of the Scottish George Gordon, 2nd Earl of Huntly.  For political reasons, it had suited the Scottish king, James IV, to believe that Warbeck was indeed Richard, Duke of York.  Therefore Warbeck was encouraged to marry the daughter of a Scottish nobleman.  Warbeck and Lady Catherine had a grand and lavish wedding in Edinburgh.  Calling herself the ‘Duchess of York’, Lady Catherine was finally captured by Henry VII’s forces at St Michael’s Mount, Cornwall in September or October 1497.  She was brought back to London. Surprisingly Henry VII treated her very kindly and she became a much favoured (and favourite) lady-in-waiting to his wife, Elizabeth of York.  Henry VII arranged for Lady Catherine to have a pension, paid for by him, and he also settled her expenses for her clothes.  The favours continued when Lady Catherine attended her Scottish king, James IV’s, 1503 marriage to Henry VII’s daughter, Margaret and the same year, she was the Chief Mourner at Elizabeth of York’s funeral.  Lady Catherine’s fate at the hands of Henry VII was remarkably kind and generous, especially considering that if Warbeck really had been Richard, Duke of York, then Elizabeth of York would have been her sister-in-law.  Perhaps Henry VII decided that it was better to keep your (innocent) enemies close to you rather then have them holed up on a far-distant Cornish island? Lady Catherine went on to marry a further three husbands and died a peaceful death in 1537 – many many years after her adventures with the Tudor Pretender, Perkin Warbeck.
Was Warbeck Richard, Duke of York?… Â Who knows! Â But who-ever he was, my husband, child and I thoroughly enjoyed our trip to St Michael’s Mount on St Piran’s Day.
The Castle on St Michael’s Mount
The perilous staircase up to the castle on St Michael’s Mount.
Whenever the castle was besieged throughout the centuries,
the poor troops had to run up these stairs to storm the castle!
The view from the top of St Michael’s Mount’s castle
One of the early-modern canons, now (strangely!)
trained on the amphibious boat used to transport modern-day
residents and visitors to the island
Looking down the canon into the bay
The canons on St Michael’s Mount
The ancient causeway totally under the water of high-tide
but visible from the top of St Michael’s Mount
Medieval stained glass windows from Bruges in the
Chevy Chase room, St Michael’s Mount
The medieval church of St Michael’s Mount
Medieval stained glass in the church of St Michael’s Mount
A medieval religious object within the church of St Michael’s Mount
Re-enacting Perkin Warbeck leaving St Michael’s Mount? Or King Canute trying to drive back the waves?
Postscript
Home educating a year on, it is somewhat strange that I have ended up teaching my special educational needs child about life and the universe in the very area where the controversial councillor, Collin Brewer, proclaimed that special educational needs children need âputting downâ. Mr Brewer, if you are reading this, come spend a day (or two) with me and my child whilst I home educate him, and tell my child to his face that he needs putting down. Or alternatively, do some good by showing my child (and me) that you lofty councillors do care about some of the most vulnerable people in our society. Mr Brewer, come listen to the story of my child and my fight for him to have a basic human right: a school education. I promise you, our story will make you weep.
Can you believe that it’s finally March?  The days for us in Britain are getting longer and the snow has hopefully gone once and for all. Is Spring just peaking around that elusive corner?
To celebrate, here is the calender page for March from the Macclesfield Psalter.
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How is your mental maths? When doing your household budgeting, can you quickly and easily add together pounds and pence (or dollars and cents)? In this modern day and age, the task is relatively easy â especially when using calculators or spreadsheets.
But what if you had to balance your books using pounds, shillings and pence without modern technology? As every-good English Tudor scribe knew, there was
– 240 pennies in every pound
– 12 pennies in every shilling
– 20 shillings in every pound
Then, of course, thereâs also half-pennies, half-groats, groat, half angels and angels.
Look at the image above. Would you be able to quickly run down this page mentally summing it up correctly to get the total at the bottom?
Our invisible but ever present Tudor scribe within Great Dunmow couldnât either! Every few pages within Great Dunmowâs churchwardensâ accounts there are very faint seemingly unintelligible scratchings on the page. These are our Tudor scribeâs âworkings-outâ of his sums – rough calculations before he wrote down his totals.
You may have to zoom in at a high percentage to see the markings â but they are there and they are definitely accountancy âworkings-outâ!
Great Dunmow’s churchwardens’ accounts: folio 7r, 1527-1529
Great Dunmow’s churchwardens’ accounts: folio 7r, 1527-1529
Great Dunmow’s churchwardens’ accounts: folio 19v, 1532-1533
Henry VIII Testoon (shilling) from 1544-1547
Notes Great Dunmow’s original churchwarden accounts (1526-1621) are in Essex Record Office (E.R.O.), Chelmsford, Essex, D/P 11/5/1. All digital images of the accounts within this blog appear by courtesy of Essex Record Office and may not be reproduced.  Examining these records from this Essex parish gives the modern reader a remarkable view into the lives and times of some of Henry VIIIâs subjects and provides an interpretation into the local history of Tudor Great Dunmow.
If you want to read more  from my blog about a life in a Tudor Essex town, please do subscribe either by using the Subscribe via Email button top right of my blog, or the button at the very bottom.  If you’ve enjoyed reading this post, then please do Like it with the Facebook button below.
There were many human pawns and casualties in the conflict now known to history as ‘The War of the Roses’.  As the dynastic feud raged furiously between the Royal houses of Lancaster and York, many died a brutal death.  The most brutal, perhaps, was that of the death of King Richard III – killed in battle at Bosworth in August 1485.  Last week, current news and history were  alive with the news that the body of Richard III had been found under a car park in Leicester.  Since the announcement, much has been discussed about the discovery of his mortal remains and what it means to our understanding of his reign.  I still maintain my original position that it doesn’t change much about our understanding of Richard III, nor our understanding of his life and times.  (See my post Richard lyth buryed at Leicester.)
My post today is about the most important pawn of all in that power struggle: Elizabeth of York.  By 1483, the time of her father Edward IV’s death, Elizabeth was 17 years old.  With her brothers locked away in the Tower of London and her uncle declaring himself to be king, Elizabeth’s position was very precarious.  She became even more vulnerable when in March 1485, Anne Neville, Richard III’s queen, died and rumours spread that Richard intended to marry Elizabeth, his own niece.  The historian Anne Crawford, in her 2007 book ‘The Yorkists: The history of a Dynasty’ comments:
‘… rumours that the king [Richard III] was planning to marry Elizabeth himself. Â While a union between uncle and niece was not strictly forbidden by the church, provided dispensation was obtained (and it was later not unknown in European royal circles), the idea caused revulsion among his councillors, Richard was warned by Ratcliffe and Catesby, the men he trusted most, that, unless he abandoned the idea and publicly denied any such intention, his northern supports would rise against him for causing the death of Warwick’s daughter [his dead wife, Anne Neville] in order to enter into an incestuous marriage to his niece. Â There is no reason to believe the charge that Richard murdered his wife, but the fact that people, even his loyal northerners, believed it possible indicates the air of unease and suspicion surrounding him. Â The threat of their revolt was enough to bring the king to a humiliating position of making the public denial demanded of him.’Â (page 146-7)
Elizabeth was most certainly a prize – daughter of the dead Edward IV and sister of the missing Edward V.  A prize that was too much for the victor of Bosworth Field, the new Henry VII, to ignore.  Henry Tudor made his intentions towards Elizabeth very clear even before that fatal day in August 1485 when Richard III was dispatched to meet his maker.  By marrying Elizabeth, Henry Tudor, at one stroke, would pacify both the house of Lancaster and the house of York.  Moreover, any child of theirs would automatically be the heirs to the throne – a fact that could not be disputed by either dynastic house.  In a cunning and an astute move, Henry VII, determined that he was to be king by conquest rather then by the birth-rights of a mere woman, did not marry Elizabeth until January 1486. The marriage took place a few months after his own coronation the previous year on 30 October.  Clever Henry VII! By marrying after his own coronation, he reinforced the point that it was he who was the anointed king: Elizabeth was merely his consort.
Contemporary documents from the period suggest that Henry VII had a loving relationship with his wife.  At her death, he did appear to grieve for her and he did spend his money on a lavish funeral for her.  She also seems to have cared for the education of her own children – very unusual for a high born medieval woman.  The historian, David Starkey, in his 2008 book ‘Henry Virtuous Prince’ strongly argues the case that Elizabeth was an exceptionally well educated woman and it was she who taught her own daughters and her young second son literacy (page 119-120), and therefore to read and write.  That second son, of course, went on to be the highly educated and intelligent Henry VIII.
Elizabeth of York, that pawn of medieval and Tudor history who aided the end of the bloody War of the Roses, was born in the Palace of Westminster on 11 February 1466 and died exactly 37 years later at the Tower of London, nine days after giving birth to her seventh and final child (who had died the previous day).
So on the anniversary of her birth and death, below are some images of Elizabeth of York. Elizabeth Woodville, queen of Edward IV, and their five daughters (left to right) Elizabeth, Cecily, Anne, Catherine, and Mary. Royal Window, Northwest Transept, Canterbury Cathedral.
Cigarette card from Ogden’s Guinea Gold series, published 1903.
Cigarette card from Player’s Kings and Queens, published 1935.
Margaret Beaufort (born 1443, died 1509) was the mother of Henry VII. Â Below is an image for February from her Book of Hours. Â This Book was made between 1430 and 1443 and owned firstly by Margaret’s mother, Margaret Beauchamp (born 1405/6, died 1482), and then by Margaret. Â Margaret appeared to use her Book of Hours as a calendar to record significant events in the lives of her son and grandchildren. Â Thus, she used August to record her son’s landing at Milford Haven and the death of Richard III; and February for the death of Elizabeth of York (we do not know if this is her hand or if a scribe wrote the entries for her).
‘February’ from The Beaufort/Beauchamp Hours (England, S. E. (London), c. 1430, before 1443)
shelfmark Royal 2 A XVIII f. 28v.
The first left margin note in black reads
This day wher[e] decessed Quene Elizabeth i[n] the tower of london
Chapel of Henry VII and his queen, Elizabeth of York
Elizabeth of York: daughter of Edward IV, niece of Richard III, sister of Edward V, wife of Henry VII, mother of Henry VIII, grandmother of Edward VI, Mary I and Elizabeth I.
What do you think about Elizabeth of York? Please do leave your thoughts in the Comments box below.
Todayâs post is about the contents of Tudor wills and how they can be used to inform the modern-day reader about religion during the turbulent reigns of Henry VIII and his three children. The text below formed one of the chapters within my dissertation Religion and Society in Great Dunmow, Essex, c.1520 to c.1560 from my Cambridge University’s Masters of Studies in Local and Regional history awarded to me in January 2012. The text here is in its entirety from my dissertation so reads more as an academic essay rather than a blog post. For this blog post, I have included headings (to break up the text) and images, my original was both heading-less and image-less. If you are wondering why my introduction and conclusion are so short, remember that this is just one chapter in a very lengthy 100 page dissertation and I had a very strict word count to adhere to. The dissertation’s overall introduction and conclusion was far more comprehensive. I have also had to re-arrange the two tables on this post from their original positions within my dissertations – so Table 2 now comes before Table 1. The research of wills I undertook for my dissertation is very different to my normal genealogical research. For genealogical research, I am normally sifting through the personal bequests so to find evidence of family relationships. But for my dissertation, I had to totally ignore family relationships and go for the ‘other bequests’.
St Mary the Virgin, the Parish church of Great Dunmow, circa 1910-20.
Introduction
Historians have studied the wills of many English parishes to gain understanding about the impact of the Reformation. Eamon Duffy examined the wills of the Yorkshire village of Otley(1) and Caroline Litzenberger, in her analysis of the Reformation Gloucestershire, studied the wills of approximately 8,000 testators(2). Therefore, the analysis of wills is a significant methodology employed by historians to provide evidence for the acceptance (or non-acceptance) of religious changes during the Reformation.
Methodology
The methodology used for this article has been to locate, transcribe and analyse all wills for Great Dunmow for the period 1517 to 1565: 40 wills in total.(3) Litzenberger divided her Gloucestershire wills into elite and non-elite wills, but this division is not possible for Great Dunmowâs much smaller sample. Table 1 and Table 2 displays the results from this analysis and this article examines those results.
Great Dunmowâs 1523-4 Lay Subsidy assessments listed 139 tax-payers and 1525-6 church steeple collection listed 165 donations. From these figures, it can be deduced many wills have not survived. Those that have are
thirty-seven wills proved in the archdeaconsâ court of the Commissary of the Bishop of London (originals held by the Essex Record Office in Chelmsford);
two proved in the London Consistory Court (official copies held by the London Metropolitan Archive in London); and,
one proved in the Prerogative Court of Canterbury (official copy held by The National Archives in Kew).
The discovery of only two wills proved in the London Consistory Court is particularly disappointing. However, this has been caused because the registers from 1521 to 1539 are missing.(5) Moreover, the first surviving Great Dunmow will that was proved in this court, is from 1559. This demonstrates there are other inconsistencies within the surviving registers from the 1540s and 1550s with the wills for Great Dunmow almost totally missing. Great Dunmow was in the archdeaconry of Middlesex but many nearby towns and villages (for example, Maldon and Chelmsford) were in the archdeaconry of Essex. Any testator with land in only one archdeaconry had their will proved in that archdeaconâs court (and therefore, now their original wills are held by Essex Record Office). However, testators with land in more than one archdeaconry had theirs proved in the London Consistory Court (i.e. the official copies of their wills will be held by the London Metropolitan Archives in London). Therefore, many wills for the years 1520 to 1559 are missing for parishioners who were the âmiddling sortâ or elite (i.e. they owned land/property in both Great Dunmow and neighbouring villages or towns). The missing registers almost exactly span the offices of two incumbents of the bishopric of London: Cuthbert Tunstall, bishop 1522 to 1530(6) ; and John Stokesley, bishop 1530 to 1539(7). It could be speculated that the missing volumes were lost not long after these dates, perhaps handed over to the Elizabethan martyrologist, John Foxe, for his examination of early martyrs within the diocese of London.(8)
There is evidence within Great Dunmowâs Henrician churchwardensâ accounts which can also be used for will analysis. These accounts document six gifts of money from named parishioners to the church, but the wills from these people have not survived. However, as these donations were likely to have originated from wills, they have been included within this analysis. For example, vicar Robert Sturtonâs missing will would undoubtedly contain a bequest to the church, as there is a 1528 churchwardensâ accounts entry âof[f] wylyem sturton of ye gyfte of M[aster] Sturton sumtyme vycar of thys chyrche…liijs iiijd [53s 4d]â(9). The churchwardens were diligent in recording bequests and gifts to the church in their accounts. This can be detected from John Skyltonâs will of 1533 in which he left a bequest of 13s 4d to the church. This exact amount duly appeared in that yearâs churchwardensâ accounts, given to the churchwardens by his wife.(10) Therefore, there is credibility to include gifts recorded within the churchwardensâ accounts within this analysis of wills.
Above, Great Dunmow’s churchwardens’ accounts (folio 9r) showing the gift from the former vicar. ‘Ite[m] Rec[ieved] of wylyem sturton of ye gyfe of M[aster] Sturton sumtyme vycar of thys chyrche liijs iiijd (53s 4d)‘.
Will of John Skylton of Great Dunmow (January 1533), Essex Record Office D/ABW 8/28. The Tudor scribe who wrote the will (above) couldnât write in straight lines! The request to the church starts on the third line⊠âhie awter [high altar â this is the end of Skyltonâs tithe bequest] of the church â xxd [20d] also to the rep[er]ations [repairs] of the church of Du[n]mowe xiijs iiijd [13s 4d] also to the church of powles iiijd [4d â this is the bequest to St Paulâs cathedral in London]‘.
And here’s the entry in Great Dunmow’s churchwardens’ accounts showing that his widow had duly handed over the bequest to the church ‘Ite[m] Rc [Received] of Jone [Joan] Skylton of the gyfte of John Skylton – xiijs iiijd [13s 4d]’.
Analysis of Soul Bequests [The table below for soul bequests was originally on an A3 sheet of paper. I have had to shrink it so that it fits this blog post. Click it to display it within a new window and then use your zoom facility to increase the size of the text. The wills for Elizabeth’s reign are only up until 1565 as this is the point my dissertation ended.]
Soul bequests within preambles of wills have been used by historians of Reformation England to ascertain religious changes. A Catholic preamble would include words similar to âalmyghtie god & to our blyssed lady saynt mary the virgyn & to all the holy company of heavenâ(11). An evangelical or Protestant might include words such as âAlmighty God and his only Son our Lord Jesus Christ, by whose previous death and passion I hope only to be savedâ(12). Somewhere in between would be other types of soul bequests. Litzenberger divided her wills into three major categories: âTraditionalâ [i.e. Catholic], âAmbiguousâ, and âProtestantâ, and within these categories, wills were further sub-divided. Litzenbergerâs categories have been used as a framework for the analysis of soul bequests for Great Dunmowâs wills; as demonstrated in Table 2. Categorising soul bequests have to be handled with caution. Wills were only ambiguous if there were no other bequests indicating that they were traditional. Some wills contain either a final stipulation to the executors to provide for the wealth/health of the testatorâs soul, or the bequest for âtithes forgottenâ. The existence of either clause, it can be argued, was the sign of a traditional will, as discussed below. Moreover, ambiguity might have been a defence employed by traditionalists against an increasingly hostile environment.(13) This strategy of ambiguity by traditionalists might account for the eight ambiguous Edwardian wills made during evangelical vicar Geoffrey Crispâs time. Furthermore, a Protestant was unlikely to use an ambiguous soul bequest and would almost certainly proclaim their religion in unmistakable language.(14) Table 2 demonstrates there were no unquestionably Protestant soul bequests within the surviving wills of Great Dunmow.
Analysis of other bequests (not family)
There are other limitations when using wills for the analysis of religious belief. Duffy comments âwills tell us more about the external constraints on testators than they do about shifting private belief.â(15) External constraints could be the religious policy imposed by the monarch, for example, the Edwardian denouncement of purgatory, trentals and masses.(16) There were other constraints, including the scribe who wrote the will and the testatorâs witnesses. Margaret Spufford, in her work on sixteenth and seventeenth century wills was the first historian to observe a will could be written by a scribe.(17) She stated
A man lying on his death bed must have been much in the hands of the scribe writing his will. He must have been asked specific questions about his temporal bequests, but unless he had strong religious convictions, the clause bequeathing the soul may well have reflected the opinion of the scribe or the formulary book the latter was using, rather than those of the testator. (18)
Some wills indisputably demonstrate the testator had not been influenced by a scribe or witness. Great Dunmowâs Marian will of Thomas Baker contains a traditional soul bequest along with bequests for tithes forgotten; and, even more revealingly, an obit and a solemnly sang dirge.
A priest providing Extreme Unction (the Last Rites) to a man in bed, from Pontifical; Tabula (England, 1st quarter of the 15th century), British Library’s shelfmark Lansdowne 451 f.234.
There is evidence of a Henrician scribe who was active in two 1520s wills from Great Dunmow, and he possibly used a book containing standard formulaic clauses. This type of precedent book was not unusual during the Tudor period.(19) The will of widow Clemens Bowyer, dated February 1526, almost exactly mimics the earlier will of John Wakrell (October 1525). Both wills have the same soul bequests (Catholic, as would be expected from this period); along with bequests to the high altar, to Saint Johnâs gild, to the churchâ torches, and to the âmoder holy chyrch of polye [St Paulâs] in Londonâ. Both wills have a bequest for an âhonest prest to synge a tryntall [trental] for my sol & all crysten solls yn ye p[ar]rsche churcheâ. However this is crossed out in Bowyerâs will. It is possible the scribe copied the wording from his precedent book, and Bowyer made him cross it out. Trentals were a series of 30 Masses performed within one year, with three Masses on each of the ten major feast-days of Christ and Mary; the priest also had to perform other liturgical duties throughout the year.(20) This was a substantial undertaking, as demonstrated by Wakrellâs bequest of 10s for his trental. Maybe Bowyer did not have sufficient funds, and so made the scribe delete the bequest. This scribe was probably the parish priest, Sir William Wree who was witness to these and one other will. Also witness to Wakrellâs will was former vicar, Robert Sturton, described as âp[ar]rsche prestâ. Sturton had resigned as vicar in 1523, so he was still performing some of his previous clerical duties.
Will of John Wakrell of Great Dunmow (October 1525), Essex Record Office D/ABW 39/7. The trental bequest reads (from the second word): ‘It[e]m I be q[u]esthe [bequeath] unto an honest prest to synge a tryntall [trental] for my sol [soul] & all crysten [Christian] solls [souls] yn ye p[ar]iche chyrch \of D[u]nmowe a fore sayde xs [10s]’.
Will of Clemens Boywer [Bowyer] of Great Dunmow (February 1526), Essex Record Office D/ABW 3/8. The first crossing out is the trental: ‘It[e]m I bequethe to han [sic] honest prest to sy [n] ge [sing] a try[n]tall [trental] yn ye p[ar]rshe of myche [Much i.e. âGreatâ] D[u]nmow aforsad’. (Were pre-Reformation priests anything other than ‘honest’?)
Old St Paul’s Cathedral – the ‘moder[mother] holy chyrch of polye [Paul] in London’ mentioned by 7 testators of Tudor Great Dunmow. St Paul’s was the mother church of the Diocese of London, and this diocese included the parish of Great Dunmow. The cathedral was the largest church in England and had the tallest spire in England. The spire was struck by lightning in 1561 and not replaced. St Paul’s was destroyed in 1666 – a casualty of the Great Fire of London. Sir Christopher Wren designed the new cathedral – one of the iconic images of today’s London.
Witnesses to Wills The vicars and priests of the parish were witnesses to many wills. However, the decline in priests as witnesses demonstrates fewer priests were within the parish after Henry VIIIâs break with Rome. Sir Edmund Clarke was witness to three traditional wills in the 1530s. Evangelical vicar Crisp, was witness to two Edwardian wills in 1551 and 1553; both with ambiguous soul bequests to âalmighty god, my maker and redeemerâ. Catholic vicar John Bird was witness to one traditional Marian will. The vicars must have witnessed many wills and surely influenced some testators by imposing their own beliefs on their dying parishioners. However, Elizabethan vicar, Richard Rogers, a former Protestant exile who spent Maryâs reign in Frankfurt,(21) did not enforce his beliefs on the wills of his parishioners. Seven Elizabethan wills were written during his tenure, although he was not witness to any of them. None of these wills were unequivocally and unmistakably Protestant: indeed the 1563 will of Gilbert Cooke had a traditional soul bequest including âthe blesyd company of heavneâ.
Priest administering last rites
from The Dunois Hours (Paris, c. 1440 – c. 1450 (after 1436))
British Library’s shelfmark Yates Thompson 3 f.211 .
The limitations of using wills to determine religious belief Wills do not always accurately reflect the complete representation of a testatorâs religious beliefs. In an investigation of late Medieval wills for All Saints, Bristol, the author of the study found the wills of some of the elite did not include bequests to the parish church.(22) However, the parishâs Church Books demonstrate that during these testatorsâs lifetime, substantial gifts, such as gilding of the Lady altar, and the refurbishment of the rood loft, had been made to the church. Furthermore, a wife often made donations after her husbandâs death but during her lifetime, on behalf of them both. This generosity would most likely not have appeared in either the husband’s or his widow’s wills. This discrepancy between a testatorâs will and the gifts made during their lifetime is also true within Great Dunmow. For example, Miles Docleyeâs Edwardian will of 1551 has an ambiguous soul bequest and only bequests to his family; there are no religious bequests. It would appear his will was ambiguous but conforming to Edwardâs Protestantism. However, Docleye, who must have been at least in his 50s when he died, had given money to each of the parishâs seven collections for traditional religious items during the 1520s and 1530s. It is impossible to determine if his beliefs had changed or if his will was conforming to Edwardian policy. It was probably the latter. This one example demonstrates that the analysis of wills for religious beliefs has its limitations. The laity of Great Dunmow had been investing in traditional religious artefacts throughout the 1520s and 1530s, but these donations are not apparent from their wills.
The importance of ‘tithes negligently forgotten’ The bequest to the high altar for âtithes negligently forgottenâ clause was an important part of pre-Reformation wills; and all ten Henrician wills have this bequest. One of the duties of the parish priest was to pronounce the Great Excommunication or General Sentence to his parishioners four times a year.(23) This proclaimed transgressions against the church; and debts (including unpaid tithes) were such transgressions. The bequest ensured the testator cleared his or her debt to the church and so their soul could benefit from prayers. Furthermore, unpaid debts meant the testatorâs soul would be longer in purgatory, so this was an important bequest for traditional religion. Henry VIII banned the reading of the General Sentence in parish churches because it was vehemently against those who appropriated Church property or contested the authority of the Church(24), and, of course, Henry VIII had unquestionable contested the Pope’s authority in England.
This prohibition, along with the Edwardian theological retreat from the concept of purgatory,(25) was perhaps the reason why none of Great Dunmowâs Edwardian wills have the tithes to the high altar bequest. Moreover, the Great Dunmow’s high altar had been destroyed on the orders of Edward VI.(26) However, four Marian wills do have the clause; of these, three also have a traditional soul bequest. These four wills were written in 1557 and 1558; so it is possible this bequest was not included in earlier Marian wills because Great Dunmow’s high altar was still to be rebuilt after Catholic Mary came to the throne of England. In Elizabethâs reign, Elizabeth Dygbeyâs will written in December 1558 (i.e. one month after Maryâs death), also had a traditional soul bequest, along with the tithes clause. This was before the Marian high altar was taken down sometime between 1559 and 1561.(27) In 1564, John Byckner used a variation of the tithes bequest for a will which was otherwise ambiguous; the high altar had again been destroyed, so he left his money for ‘tithes forgotten’ to the âcurateâ. Bycknerâs will is unusual because, apart from Dygbeyâs will written shortly after Maryâs death, no other early Elizabethan will contains the tithes bequest. If this John Byckner, a wax chandler, was the same John Byckner, who lived in the High Street in 1525-6,(28) he would have been at least in his 60s and so perhaps had some of the old, traditional habits. This confirms the remark, âWills were made usually by the old, who were generally less open to new ideas than the young or middle aged.â(29)
A priest excommunicating a group of people by raising a candle
from Omne Bonum (Ebrietas-Humanus) (London, England, c.1360-c.1375)
British Library’s shelfmark Royal 6 E VII f.75v.
Conclusion
The analysis within this articles has demonstrated that bequests within wills alone cannot substantially confirm the religious faith of a testator. However, it is clear that collectively the wills of Great Dunmow do demonstrate significant changes over time. Bequests to the church almost totally stopped after Henry VIIIâs reign, in all probability because his attack on traditional religious artefacts made parishioners cautious. Not a single Edwardian testator made an unequivocally Protestant will, even with evangelical vicar Crisp present. Maryâs reign demonstrated a shift back towards traditional religion, with bequests to the high altar, and obits. The early years of Elizabethâs reign demonstrate that wills had once again started to move away from traditional bequests. However, external factors could influence a testatorâs will, for example, religious changes enforced by the monarch, local vicars, scribes and witnesses, and the age of the testator. Therefore wills cannot provide the complete account of the parishioners of Great Dunmowâs changing beliefs. Moreover, Henrician and Marian anti-Catholic events did take place in the parish with the 1546 re-enactment of the murder of Cardinal Beaton, and Thomas Bowyerâs disobedience to the re-established Catholic Church. Therefore, wills can provide only a limited narrative regarding the changes experienced by this parish during the Reformation.
Details of a funeral
from Book of Hours, Use of Sarum
(England, S. E. (Suffolk, Bury St Edmunds?), 2nd or 3rd quarter of the 15th century)
British Library’s shelfmark Arundel 302 f.77v.
Church End, Great Dunmow, postcard circa 1910-20.
Footnotes
(1) Eamon Duffy, The Stripping of the Altars: Traditional Religion in England 1400-1580 (2nd edn., 2005), pp.515-21.
(2) Caroline Litzenberger, The English Reformation and the Laity: Gloucestershire, 1540-1580 (Cambridge, 1997), pp.168-178.
(3) (n/a to this blog)
(4) This includes six monetary gifts, as documented in Great Dunmowâs churchwardensâ accounts, but a corresponding will has not survived.
(5) London Metropolitan Archives, Diocese of London Consistory Court Wills index (2011), (At the time of writing my dissertation, these indexes were in pdf file format and online at http://www.cityoflondon.gov.uk. However they do not appear to be there at present.)
(6) D. Newcombe, âTunstal, Cuthbertâ, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (Online Edition, May 2011), http://www.oxforddnb.com
(7) Andrew Chibi, âStokesley, Johnâ, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (Online Edition, May 2011), http://www.oxforddnb.com
(8) Personal correspondence, Richard Rex, Cambridge, March 2011.
(9) Great Dunmowâs churchwardensâ accounts, fo.7r.
(10) Great Dunmowâs churchwardensâ accounts, fol.18v.
(11) Will of Katherine Smythe (1558), Essex Record Office, D/ABW/33/335.
(12) Margaret Spufford, âThe Scribes of Villagersâ Wills in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries and their influenceâ, Local Population Studies (1972), pp.28-43 at 29.
(13) Correspondence, Rex.
(14) Correspondence, Rex.
(15) Eamon Duffy, Stripping the Altars, p.508.
(16) Eamon Duffy, Stripping the Altars, p.505.
(17) Margaret Spufford, Scribes of Villagersâ Wills, pp.28-43.
(18) Margaret Spufford, Scribes of Villagersâ Wills, p30.
(19) Correspondence, Rex.
(20) Eamon Duffy, Stripping the Altars, pp.370-371.
(21) Christina Hallowell Garrett, The Marian Exiles (Cambridge, 1966), p.273.
(22) Clive Burgess, ââBy Quick and by Deadâ: Wills and Pious Provision in Late Medieval Bristolâ, The English Historical Review, 102 (October 1987), pp.837-858 at p.842.
(23) Eamon Duffy, Stripping the Altars, pp.356-7.
(24) Eamon Duffy, Stripping the Altars, pp.356-7.
(25) Eamon Duffy, Stripping the Altars, pp.504.
(26) Great Dunmowâs churchwardensâ accounts, fo.40v.
(27) Great Dunmowâs churchwardensâ accounts, fo.44v.
(28) Great Dunmowâs churchwardensâ accounts, fo.2v.
(29) Robert Whiting, Local Responses to the English Reformation (Basingstoke, 1998), p.130.
(30) The first two columns of Table 2 have been taken from Caroline Litzenberger, The English Reformation and the Laity: Gloucestershire, 1540-1580 p.172
Notes Great Dunmow’s original churchwarden accounts (1526-1621) are in Essex Record Office (E.R.O.), Chelmsford, Essex, D/P 11/5/1. All digital images of the accounts within this blog appear by courtesy of Essex Record Office and may not be reproduced. Examining these records from this Essex parish gives the modern reader a remarkable view into the lives and times of some of Henry VIIIâs subjects and provides an interpretation into the local history of Tudor Great Dunmow.
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‘April’ folio 3v from The Macclesfield Psalter,
The Macclesfield Psalter – folio 79v
The Macclesfield Psalter – folio 106r
The Macclesfield Psalter – folio 14v
The Macclesfield Psalter – folio 182v.
5 March 2013, the Cornish flag on St Piran’s Day, St Michael’s Mount
Perkin Warbeck, the second Tudor Pretender, born circa 1474, executed 1499
The Castle on St Michael’s Mount
The perilous staircase up to the castle on St Michael’s Mount.
The view from the top of St Michael’s Mount’s castle
One of the early-modern canons, now (strangely!)
Looking down the canon into the bay
The canons on St Michael’s Mount
The ancient causeway totally under the water of high-tide
Medieval stained glass windows from Bruges in the
The medieval church of St Michael’s Mount
Medieval stained glass in the church of St Michael’s Mount
A medieval religious object within the church of St Michael’s Mount
Re-enacting Perkin Warbeck leaving St Michael’s Mount? 
Henry VIII Testoon (shilling) from 1544-1547
Elizabeth Woodville, queen of Edward IV, and their five daughters (left to right) Elizabeth, Cecily, Anne, Catherine, and Mary. Royal Window, Northwest Transept, Canterbury Cathedral.
Cigarette card from Ogden’s Guinea Gold series, published 1903.
Cigarette card from Player’s Kings and Queens, published 1935.
Postcard of the 
Funeral effigy of Elizabeth (plate from 1914)
Chapel of Henry VII and his queen, Elizabeth of York
St Mary the Virgin, the Parish church of Great Dunmow, circa 1910-20.
Above, Great Dunmow’s churchwardens’ accounts (folio 9r) showing the gift from the former vicar. ‘Ite[m] Rec[ieved] of wylyem sturton of ye gyfe of M[aster] Sturton sumtyme vycar of thys chyrche liijs iiijd (53s 4d)‘.
Will of John Skylton of Great Dunmow (January 1533), Essex Record Office D/ABW 8/28. The Tudor scribe who wrote the will (above) couldnât write in straight lines! The request to the church starts on the third line⊠âhie awter [high altar â this is the end of Skyltonâs tithe bequest] of the church â xxd [20d] also to the rep[er]ations [repairs] of the church of Du[n]mowe xiijs iiijd [13s 4d] also to the church of powles iiijd [4d â this is the bequest to St Paulâs cathedral in London]‘.
And here’s the entry in Great Dunmow’s churchwardens’ accounts showing that his widow had duly handed over the bequest to the church ‘Ite[m] Rc [Received] of Jone [Joan] Skylton of the gyfte of John Skylton – xiijs iiijd [13s 4d]’.
Church End, Great Dunmow, postcard circa 1910-20.
