In 1484 the bodily remains of Henry VI were removed from Chertsey Abbey, where they had lain since his death in 1471, and were relocated to St George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle, apparently on the orders of Richard III.  The motive for this action remains unclear. Professor Ralph Griffiths suggests that the move to Windsor may have offered a chance to keep under closer supervision the grave of the saintly king which had become a centre of pilgrimage.* However, an alternative view may be offered – that, at this stage in his reign, Richard was considering burial at Windsor for himself and his wife, Anne, in the Chapel constructed by his brother, Edward IV. Interment in proximity to the sacred bones of Henry VI would have been seen as advantageous to their souls, a sentiment later shared by Henry VII.

Traditionally, Richard III is believed to have had little connection with Windsor, which he visited only infrequently both before and after he became King. However, documents in the St George’s Chapel Archives suggest that, as Duke of Gloucester, Richard favoured the Chapel.**  The first, dated 1478, is a covenant between Richard and the Dean and Canons of Windsor, concerning the grant of manors of Bentfield Bury, Essex, Knapton, Norfolk,  and Chelsworth, Suffolk, to fund an annual obit for Richard, Duke of York, and masses for Richard, Duke of Gloucester, and his wife Anne, during their lives and after their deaths. This is followed by a conveyance of the lands in 1480. The third, a licence from Edward IV to his ‘most beloved brother ‘, Richard, and his wife to grant the advowson of the Parish Church of Olney, Buckinghamshire, to the Dean and Canons of Windsor is dated 1482 and  is followed by the conveyance in the form a final concord in 1483. If Richard was planning to set up a chantry at Windsor, for his father, himself and his wife, might he not also have been intending to be buried there?

However, even if this were the case, Richard had clearly changed his mind by March 1485 when, on the death of his wife Anne, he arranged for her interment not at Windsor but at Westminster Abbey. Moreover, both the conveyances proved ineffectual, with the Dean and Canons failing to gain possession of the lands in Essex and East Anglia and the advowson of Olney which had been promised to them.  It appears that by 1485, in the words of Professor Griffiths, ‘Richard wanted to have as little to do with Windsor as he could’.   

Clare Rider, Archivist & Chapter Librarian

*Ralph Griffiths ‘The burials  of King Henry VI at Chertsey and Windsor’ in Nigel Saul and Tim Tatton-Brown(eds.) St George’s Chapel, Windsor: History and Heritage (Dovecote Press, 2010) pp.104-105

** SGC XI.P.7, 9, 11 &12

Here lyes interred ye body

of BAPTIST  MAY Esq. Privy

Purse to his Ma..tie KING CHARLES

the second, who departed

this life ye second of March

1696 Aged 69.

The large black marble ledger on the pavement of the Rutland Chantry in St George’s Chapel marks the last resting place of one of the most fascinating personalities of the Restoration era.

Baptist May, the son of a privy councillor, first entered royal service in 1648 as one of the Duke of York’s pages and from 1662 to 1665 was a groom in the Duke’s bedchamber. At the Restoration he was part of the libertine element at Charles II’s court. His appointment in 1665 to the office of Keeper of the Privy Purse, an office he was to hold for the rest of Charles II’s reign, was probably due to the influence of Barbara Villiers, Countess of Castlemaine, who had an interest in ensuring payments should reliably be paid to her.

May was a trusted servant who enjoyed Charles II’s friendship. The king found him amusing although May’s tactless comments, as for instance when he welcomed the Great Fire as making the City easier to control, shocked even the king. May also meddled in high politics. In 1670, having been elected MP for Midhurst, he tried to introduce a bill to enable the king to divorce his childless wife. Eleven years later he supported a bill to exclude from the succession James, Duke of York, who had become a Roman Catholic, and, shortly before Charles II’s  death in 1685, he plotted with Louise de Keroualle, Duchess of Portsmouth, and with York’s other enemies at court to have the Duke sent back to Scotland.

Bishop Burnet, whose History of my own time is a major source for this period, wrote that May had

    “……the greatest and largest share in the King’s secret confidence of any man in that time, for it was never broken off though often shaken, he being against everything that the King was for, both France, popery, and arbitrary government, but a particular sympathy of temper, and his serving the King in his vices created a confidence much envied and often attempted to be broke, but never with any success beyond a short coldness.”

May ceased to be Keeper of the Privy Purse at the accession of James II but continued to be Ranger of Windsor Great Park, an office he had held since 1671, and he continued to use as his main country seat the Great Lodge now known as Cumberland Lodge. He was MP for Thetford  in the first parliament of William and Mary’s reign and died in 1697.

Jill Hume, Archives Volunteer

In the spring of 1675, the dean of Windsor, Bruno Ryves (c.1596-1677) summoned thirty men and women (presumably resident in the castle precincts) to appear before him to answer to certain allegations made against them.  Their offences were not specified, but if they were unable to clear their names, then sentence of excommunication would follow.  This makes it fairly clear they were neglecting to take the sacraments of the Church of England, and were possibly leaning towards Rome.  In the England of Charles II this was still a serious matter, if not such a desperate one as had been the case under Elizabeth I.

The names of the thirty “miscreants” are recorded in the Register of Wills, 1662-1735, contained in the St George’s Chapel archives, and further entries shed light on the treatment of those bold enough to proclaim allegiance to Roman Catholicism.  As far as we can tell from the record, most of those summoned were able to clear their names.  However, one lady, Jane Greene, wife of Matthew Greene, refused to appear before the dean on the appointed day.  Bruno Ryves’ response was to pronounce sentence of excommunication against her on 23 April 1675.  Jane then petitioned the dean to be absolved from the sentence, and agreed to answer the charges made against her.  He duly absolved her in August. 

The matter was not over however.  In October 1675, Jane was again summoned by the dean “ to answere unto severall Articles which were objected against her.”   Furthermore, she was ordered to receive the holy sacrament or else face another sentence of excommunication.  In brief, she refused to comply, and as the register entry puts it, “ the said Jane Greene is revolted from the Church of England over to the Church of Roome [Rome].”  And so Bruno Ryves pronounced the sentence of excommunication against her on 10 December 1675.  After this we learn no more about her, but her subsequent life is likely to have been one of some difficulty and social ostracism.

What kind of man was Dean Bruno Ryves?  He emerges from the records as a churchman of authority, whose experiences in the civil war probably served to forge a tough-minded nature.  A strong royalist, he enjoyed steady career advancement until 1642, becoming a Lent preacher at court and then a royal chaplain.  But after joining the royalist army when the war began, he had his livings sequestrated.  Later in the war, he turned to journalism, becoming founding editor of Mercurius Rusticus, a royalist chronicle of the “barbarous outrages” committed by the parliamentarians.  He became dean of Windsor in 1660, remaining there until his death in 1677 (he is buried in the south aisle of the chapel).  His last will and testament runs to six pages of the will register, and shows him to be a man of great wealth.  This is reinforced by his probate inventory, which values his goods and chattels at over £950, a huge sum at the time.  Three of his grandchildren were also christened Bruno (and another was christened Ryves), a testament to his paterfamilias status.  Clearly this was not a man to be trifled with, and the people of the St George’s community whom he summoned in 1675 may well have trembled in his presence.

The case of Jane Greene illustrates how difficult things could be for religious dissidents (those who could not accept the Church of England’s teaching) in the late 17^th century.  They did not face the prospect of torture or death (short of committing an act of treason), but their status in society was very much a second-class one until well into the 19^th century.

Simon Harrison (Archives volunteer)

In recent years efforts have been made to improve the acoustics in the chapel by introducing new, state of the art systems. Apart from regular services including choral music, the chapel holds numerous concerts and lectures throughout the year. It is important therefore that the acoustic properties are to a high standard.

It would seem that it was a recurring problem for large churches and cathedrals, as they installed sounding boards over the pulpit in order to capture the voice of the preacher and so containing the spoken word within the area that the congregation were gathered. More modern methods of electric amplifiers and microphones have replaced the need for sounding boards.

During the Middle Ages this problem was duly considered and steps were taken during the building of churches to improve the acoustics of ecclesiastical buildings where singing was an important part of daily life. Whilst it has been noted that round red earthenware pots have been found built into the existing east wall face of some churches, there is not a great deal of evidence existing to suggest that these were a generally accepted device. Pots have not survived in any great numbers; however they may have been damaged or removed during the remodelling or conservation works.

Acoustic pot found under the Quire

The discovery in 1953 of acoustic pots under the floor boards in the quire of St George’s Chapel raises yet another method of improving the acoustics. The two pots were both found on the south side of the quire. The first one lying with its open mouth facing south under the Minor Canon’s stall, the second pot was mortared into position below the joist with its open mouth facing north.

The construction of St George’s Chapel chancel is more elaborate than a parish church. Pots built into the eastern walls would not necessarily have aided the acoustics in the quire. We cannot therefore be sure that the pots found under the thick floorboards would have had the desired effect.

The largest of the pots measuring fifteen and half inches tall and made of a quite fine red pottery was complete apart from the handle being broken off and a piece out of the neck. The smaller pot more clearly ribbed with a slightly decorated base rim measured eleven inches with some of the top broken off.

The pots were dated to a fifteenth-sixteenth century type, with rounded bases and may have been made for standing in a rack to hold liquid. If they were discarded by the workmen why was one mortared into position and the other placed on a joist cut to fit around the pot.

They were of great archaeological interest at the time as each pot contained a variety of objects. Animal bones, a nut, an oyster, snail shells, wood shavings and dried up flower heads. Examination of the bones by Dr. W E Swinton of the Natural History Museum dated most of them to be of modern generation, whereas others were possibly left by the original workmen. Were the contents placed in the pots with the idea that they would further improve the acoustics properties or were they introduced by unwanted small animals?

Enid Davies, Assistant Archivist

In the early years of the reign of King Henry VIII, Nicholas West, Dean of Windsor [1509-1515], sent two letters to the Canons back in Windsor, concerning his visit to the King and the King’s Council [SGC II.J.7/1-2]. Henry VIII had promised to donate some lands in his will to the Dean and Canons for a number of charitable purposes; principally to support the Poor Knights of Windsor. During his absence from Windsor, the Dean spoke with the King and attended the King’s Council in order to obtain a patent establishing a future claim to the properties, to be conveyed to the Dean and Canons after Henry VIII’s death. They were to become known as the lands of the ‘New Dotation’.

In his second letter, Dean West informed the Canons that he had sent them not only the patent concerning the lands but also a sword that had been given to the Dean and Canons. The gift of this sword is of particular interest since it was believed to have belonged to Henry VI, the saintly King whose remains lay buried in St George’s Chapel, Windsor, having been moved there from Chertsey Abbey in 1484. According to the Dean, the sword had been acquired by a man called ‘Garnyston’ from another man named ‘Stone of Westminster’ who had confirmed it to be the sword of good King Harry. This man Stone had apparently already given to the Dean and Canons a hat and spurs allegedly belonging to Henry VI and appears to have been considered a credible source. In sending the sword to Windsor, Dean West suggested that the Canons cover it with some old velvet or cloth of gold and set it on an altar, presumably beside the burial place of Henry VI:     

‘I have also sent you a sword gevyn us by garnyst[o]n which as he credebely afermyth was King Harys And so on[e] stone off Westmynster that gave us as he sayth the hatte and the spurrs[,] gave hym the same swerd as the swerd off the sayd good kyng Wher for it may lyke you to cov[er] it wt su[m] old velevett or su[m] old cloth off gold and sett it on alt[ar] I suppose it shall be well done.’ [SGC II.J.7/2]

According to contemporary accounts, the hat or cap was made available to pilgrims visiting Henry VI’s shrine at Windsor and was thought, when placed of the head of sufferers, to offer a cure for headaches. Visitors to the shrine also venerated the spurs, to the distress of commentators such as Testwood: ‘who beheld the pilgrims, specially from Devonshire and Cornwall how they came by plumps, with candles and images of waxe in their hands, to offer good King Henry of Windsor, as they called him, it pitied his heart to see such great idolatorie committed, and how vainely the people had spent their goods in coming so far to kiss a spur, and to have an old hat set upon their heads’ [from Foxe’s Book of Martyrs]. Dean West’s letter mentioned that the hat and spurs were obtained from the same man as the sword, suggesting that they were also acquired in the early sixteenth century. King Henry VI’s tomb remains in St George’s Chapel, to the south of the High Altar. However, the associated relics were removed and destroyed or sold during the Reformation.     

Clare Rider, Archivist and Chapter Librarian

Monument to Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk

It is easy to fail to notice in the floor of the south quire aisle of St Georges Chapel the ledger stone marking the burial place of Charles Brandon, Duke of  Suffolk, one of the most flamboyant and influential personalities of Henry VIII’s reign.

Brandon’s father, standard bearer for Henry Tudor, was killed in the Battle of Bosworth Field. Brandon was bought up at Henry VII’s court, a great favourite of the king and a childhood friend of the king’s second son.  In 1515 Henry VIII sent Brandon to France to escort back to England the king’s sister, Mary, whose husband Louis XII had died. Henry wanted the return of the huge sum of money plus the jewels and plate given to Mary as her dowry and Thomas Wolsey had negotiated that all the dowry be delivered to Brandon. Brandon carried out this task but, by the time of his return to England, he had married the young widow, a month after the French king’s death.

Once Henry’s anger had subsided Brandon’s star was again in the ascendant. In 1513 he had become Master of Horse and took part in Henry’s successful French campaign. He was present at the meeting of Henry and Francois I of France at the Field of Cloth of Gold in 1520. In 1523 Brandon commanded English forces in an attack on Calais and in 1544 he led another invasion of France. At home, he was High Steward at the wedding of Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn in 1533 and several years later acquired a large amount of land at the Dissolution.

When Brandon died in 1544 he was buried in St George’s Chapel at the king’s expense. The historian Pote (d. 1715) wrote of Brandon’s burial that “nothing remains to distinguish the Grave of this noble Duke but a rude brick pavement and the remainder of his Atchievements affixed to the Pillar above”.  In fact, the helm now mounted on the 4^th bay of the south quire aisle has been identified as a jousting helm,  not a funerary helm and since between c 1790 and c 1840 many helms were removed from the Chapel, a connection of this helm with Brandon is unlikely.

An 1787 entry in Chapter Acts states:  “Ordered that leave be given to lay a stone above the grave of Charles Brandon Duke of Suffolk, according to His Majesties directions”. The resulting ledger was put in place by Henry Emlyn during his repaving of the quire aisles and nave. The inscription on the ledger states that Charles Brandon “married Mary, daughter of Henry VII,  widow of Louis XII of France”.  (She was the third of Brandon’s 4 wives).  It is recorded in Chapter Acts 1947-8 that the arms of Charles Brandon and his wife Mary Tudor were added to the inscriptions on the ledger stone.

Jill Hume, Archives Volunteer

Richard Beauchamp was a younger son of Sir Walter de Beauchamp, a distinguished soldier and lawyer, and Elizabeth daughter of Sir John Roche.

He was Archdeacon of Suffolk in 1448 and installed as Bishop of Hereford in 1449 finally being translated by papal Bull in 1450 to the See of Salisbury.

From 1452 he appears to have acted upon occasions as Chaplain to the Order of the Garter and in 1475 was appointed by Edward IV as the first Chancellor of the Order with official lodgings in the precincts of Windsor Castle.  Beauchamp was made Master and Surveyor of ‘works to be newly constructed’, and by October 1475 work had begun and careful accounts for years 1477-9 kept by the Bishop on the building of the new Chapel for the Order of the Garter.   He was installed as Dean of Windsor in March 1478 and obtained a Bull from Sixtus IV authorising the removal of the body of John Schorn, Rector of Great Marsden, to the new Chapel.

The snails of Bishop Beauchamp

The arms of Bishop Beauchamp can be seen below a recess in the south wall of the south aisle, together with the arms of Beauchamp of Warwick and Beauchamp of Holt. The wood carving in the quire of St George’s Chapel also contains the arms and badge, a snail, of Richard Beauchamp.  The snail appears on numerous misericords and also desk fronts with mitres and Garter motto. 

Opposite the recess in the south aisle is an inscription which refers to Bishop Beauchamp and prayers to be said next to the Holy Cross, represented by the Cross Gneth overhead.  The carved stone ceiling boss at the eastern end of the south aisle, King Edward IV and the Bishop are kneeling on either side of a Cross.  This represents the Cross Gneth which was believed to contain a fragment of the true Cross. 

Richard Beauchamp was Bishop of Salisbury for over 30 years and is buried in Salisbury Cathedral.  He was succeeded by Lionel Woodville, brother of Elizabeth Woodville, Queen Consort of Edward IV.

Enid Davies, Assistant Archivist

This December sees the 200th anniversary of the birth of Charles John Canning, first viceroy of India, and all too briefly a Knight of the Garter. Charles was born on 14 December 1812 at Gloucester Lodge, an Italian-style villa situated between Kensington and Brompton, and was one of four children of the politician George Canning (1770-1827) and his wife, Joan, nee Scott (c.1776-1837).  His father was twice foreign secretary, and then prime minister for just four months in 1827 before dying in office.  George and William, his elder brothers, both died as young men, one from consumption, the other by drowning.

Charles began his education at a private school in Putney then spent four years at Eton College.  After several months at another private school, he went up to Christ Church, Oxford, where his contemporaries included the future prime minister William Ewart Gladstone.  Unlike some young men from privileged backgrounds who went up to Oxford, he actually worked hard, achieving a first in classics and a second in mathematics, an interesting combination of subjects.  In 1835, two years after graduating, he married Charlotte Stuart (1817-61), elder daughter of Lord Stuart de Rothesay.  Their marriage was to be happy, but childless.

In 1836, he entered the Commons as tory MP for Warwick, but in 1837 had to move to the Lords having succeeded to the title Viscount Canning of Kilbrahan, county Kilkenny.  As an intelligent, well-connected young man from a political family, he had every prospect of a successful career in British politics.  His first big break came in 1841 when Sir Robert Peel formed a tory government and appointed him under-secretary of state for foreign affairs.  After Peel’s ministry collapsed in 1846 he was without political office for nearly seven years, but in 1853, joined Lord Aberdeen’s coalition government as postmaster-general.  By all accounts he made a great success of the job and further promotion seemed likely.  Then, Aberdeen’s coalition fell in 1855 during the Crimean War, and the more tough-minded Viscount Palmerston became prime minister.  Impressed by Charles Canning’s administrative qualities and his judicious, reflective nature, he nominated him to be the next governor-general of India in succession to Lord Dalhousie.

At this time, India was still run, to a large extent, by the East India Company, not directly by the British government, though this was soon to change.  Before embarking on the long voyage out, Charles attended a banquet at which the Company’s directors were present.  It seems he had a premonition of the explosive events to come as he spoke these words to those present:

  …in the sky of India, serene as it is, a cloud may arise, at first no
  bigger than a man’s hand, but which growing larger and larger, may      
  at last threaten to burst, and overwhelm us with ruin.

After a leisurely three-month voyage, Charles arrived in Calcutta (then the seat of government) in February 1856.  During his first year in office, rumbling discontent was growing amongst the sepoys of the Bengal army over a range of issues, and in the spring of 1857, the storm broke.  The garrison at Meerut rose up and murdered its officers then marched on Delhi and massacred the city’s European residents.  Within weeks most of the Bengal army had joined the mutiny.  This was a full-scale challenge to  British authority, made worse by a general state of anarchy in the affected areas, which allowed princes, peasants and landholders to settle old scores and grievances by violent means.

How was Charles Canning to respond to the grave situation?  India’s British residents, gripped by fear and near panic, demanded swift and savage action  to crush the rebels, especially after the Cawnpore massacre in which English women were slaughtered.  But Charles favoured a more measured response to the crisis, one which tempered firmness with mercy.  Bloody revenge, he felt, would only make it harder to restore order, and was likely to sow seeds of further trouble.  This did not go down well with the British press (especially The Times and Punch), who dubbed him “Clemency” Canning for his leniency towards the rebel Indian soldiers.

Eventually, the tide turned in favour of the British, the mutiny ended in the summer of 1858, and Charles Canning’s calm handling of the crisis was seen to be vindicated.  His nickname “Clemency”, once negative and derisory, now assumed a more positive aura.  But the way India was run had to change, so out went the East India Company, and the country was placed under the direct governance of the British crown.  Charles now became the first viceroy of British India and was raised to an earldom in 1859.  Two years later, the Star of India, a new order of knighthood, was created to strengthen ties between the queen and her Indian subjects.

The mutiny was a stern test of Charles Canning’s mettle and henceforth much of his time as viceroy was spent grappling with financial issues.  Typically, he worked a fifteen-hour day, which reinforced an impression of natural aloofness.  Unlike later viceroys, he was unable to make regular trips to the cooling hills of Simla in the summer months and most of his time was spent in the hot plains.  This took a severe toll on his health, and in November 1861 Lady Canning died of malaria.  Towards the end of his viceroyalty in March 1862, he was a broken, sick man, “pale, wan, toilworn, and grief-stricken” according to an observer at the time.

Soon after returning to London he fell ill with an abscess of the liver.  In May 1862, he was installed a Knight of the Garter by dispensation, but enjoyed the honour for a mere few weeks.  On 17 June he died at his home in Grosvenor Square, aged just forty-nine.  As befitted an unswerving servant of the empire he was buried in Westminster Abbey, close to his father George. His statue in the Abbey’s north transept bears an inscription, which refers to his once derogatory nickname:

     …during the perilous crisis of the Sepoy mutiny, he displayed
     with entire success such fortitude, judgment and wise
     clemency as proved him worthy of his illustrious father,
     and justly entitled him to the lasting gratitude of his country.

Had Lord Palmerston not sent him to India in 1855, Charles Canning would probably have risen to the top in British politics and would surely have lived much longer.  As it was, he spent six gruelling years running a country of dazzling complexity and mighty challenges.  Few men can have done more to earn the award of the Garter.

Simon Harrison (Archives volunteer)

With a history going back hundreds of years, Windsor Castle has its fair share of paranormal activity, with many past members of the Royal Family reluctant to leave. Not to be outdone, the College of St George is also no strangers to ghosts and ghouls, including some very famous ones.

The ghost of Henry VIII is purported to walk through the cloisters, dragging his ulcerated legs and groaning from the pain. Perhaps he is on his way to meet Anne Boleyn, who is also claimed to haunt the cloisters, her ghostly form peering out from a window overlooking the Dean’s Cloister. Elizabeth I has also been seen at the same window. Charles I, beheaded and buried in an almost forgotten grave, is said to walk through Canons’ Cloister, looking very much intact.

However there are many other places that are supposedly haunted by these Royals, so what about the ghosts of ordinary people?

Horseshoe Cloister has several supernatural residents, including a horse and groom, a white lady and a little girl dressed in blue. The groom leads the horse through a wall in the kitchen, while the little girl has been seen standing by a Christmas tree [SGC CL 480].

The Deanery is alleged to house the ghost of a small boy, who doesn’t “want to go riding today”, footsteps can be heard in the passageways, and various sightings are reported of the ghost of a woman in grey near the north door of the Deanery.

Ghostly footsteps have also been heard on the staircase in the Curfew Tower, the basement of which was formerly a dungeon.

In all, Windsor is one of the most haunted castles in the country, if not the world.

Eleanor Cracknell, Assistant Archivist

From its very early days, St George’s Chapel possessed an extensive range of treasures, in the form of lavishly embroidered and jeweled vestments, relics and their elaborate containers, altar vessels in rich gold and silver, and many other jewels and ornaments to be displayed on the altar on grand occasions. Many of these were given by the Garter Knights to honour their connection to the home of the Order of the Garter.

In an inventory of plate and goods belonging to the Chapel taken in 1641 there is the following entry:

New plate Given (since 12 Dec: 1638) By the King Prince & other Knights of the ordr

One Common prayer booke of the same cover & worke, wth the Angell of incense on the one side, & the King Healing, & the mannor of or preaching & Christening engraven on the other;

From the Middle Ages onwards, it was believed that the touch of the Sovereign had healing powers granted by God, and by laying their hands on the afflicted, the King had the power to cure disease, in particular scrofula, a form of tuberculosis also known as the King’s Evil. From 1633, the act of touching for the King’s Evil was included in the Book of Common Prayer and grand ceremonies would be held where hundreds of those afflicted would kneel before the monarch for the traditional laying on of hands. The practice continued in Britain until the reign of George I, and continued in France until the mid nineteenth century.

Sadly, the year after this inventory was taken, the chapel was plundered by soldiers pretending to act by order of the King, and many of these items were lost. This book is not listed in the inventories of 1643 or 1667, suggesting that it was one of the items taken during the chaos of the Civil War.

Eleanor Cracknell, Assistant Archivist